Midnight Lies (Tasarov Bratva 2)

ADRIK

When I wake up in the morning, it’s to a warm hand pawing at my chest.

“Did you not get enough last night?” My voice is raspy with sleep and smoke. I feel the acute burn in my lungs worse today than I did yesterday. But in every other way, I feel rejuvenated.

A night of good fucking can cover a multitude of sins.

“Never.” Emery presses a kiss to my bare chest. “But I’m actually just hungry. I was going to see if you wanted anything.”

“I could eat a horse.”

“What do you want?” she asks.

“I just told you.”

She smacks me in the chest as she rolls her eyes, but her hand lingers afterwards, stroking her fingers over my ribs. I love that she can’t stop touching me.

“On second thought, though, I’d rather eat you.”

Suddenly, I roll over and slide down her body. Before Emery can even gasp in surprise, I’m between her legs, hooking her knees over my shoulders and licking up the inside of her thigh.

“Oh no, no, no,” she protests, though her face is split in a wide smile. “Not a chance in hell. I’m spent, Adrik. You wore me out.”

“Then just lie back,” I say, smoothing a hand up her stomach, settling my fingers between her breasts. “Let me take care of you.”

She laughs, but her laugh morphs into a moan as I drag my tongue up her thigh.

“I really did just want breakfast,” she mumbles, burying her hand in my hair.

“You’ll get it. After.”

She sighs contentedly and then nods in agreement. “After.”

I kiss my way up her thigh and around her stomach. I’m about to lap my tongue over her center when my burner phone rings.

Emery stiffens. “Is it Stefan?”

I roll off of her and snatch the phone from the bedside table. Usually, I’d be annoyed to be interrupted. But if he’s calling the burner, I know it’s serious.

“What?” I bark.

“You’re still alive,” Stefan says. “Great.”

“Am I not supposed to be?”

“Eh,” he says, making a noncommittal noise. “Just given the last twenty-four hours, you never know. Aren’t you glad I’m alive?”

I roll my eyes. “In this exact second? No. Not unless you have something important to tell me.”

“Did I interrupt something?” he asks. “Were you and the wifey celebrating with a little early morning delight?”

“Stefan,” I warn.

He sighs. “Sorry. Just trying to add some levity.”

“To what?”

“To the fact the police are after you,” he says. “They were just here, maybe half an hour ago?”

I sit up. “It took you half an hour to call?”

“I wanted to make sure they weren’t listening in on me.”

“Were they?”

“Not yet,” he says. “But they didn’t seem to buy that I haven’t seen you in the last few days. They’ll be back.”

Emery is sitting up in bed, watching me. She’s still naked, but doesn’t seem bothered by that at all. Any other day, I’d smash this burner phone against the wall and throw her back beneath the blankets. But today…

“Did they tell you anything?”

“They found Pietro’s body, but they haven’t identified it. They even think it might be you.”

For half a second, I let myself imagine staging my own death. Emery, Isabella, the baby, and I could disappear. Start over. It would be like living at the cabin, but better. Absolute new beginning.

But I shove the idea away. I meant what I’ve said to Emery again and again: there is no path to normal for us. It is this life or nothing.

“They’ll realize it’s not me soon enough.”

“I’ll keep my ear to the ground. I’ll call if there’s any news.”

We hang up and Emery wraps her hand around my bicep. “Is everything okay?”

“The police are starting to sniff around.”

Her eyes widen. “Do you have a plan?”

“I have options,” I tell her. “But we don’t need to talk about it now.”

“You can talk to me, Adrik.”

“I could, but I won’t. The less you know, the better.”

She sighs. “I know everything already. And it’s not like I’d ever rat you out.”

“Maybe not on purpose.”

“No, never,” she insists. “Nothing would ever make me turn on you.”

I look back at her and I can see in her face that she believes that. Slowly, I curl my fingers into her blonde hair. It’s still mussed from last night, so it’s easy to get my hand tangled. Then a single clench of my fingers and Emery is at my mercy.

“Ow!” she yelps, swatting at my arm. “Adrik, let me go!”

I ignore her. “You’ve never been tortured,” I say, gently tugging her by the hair to the end of the bed. “You don’t know all the many different ways the human body can be made to feel pain.”

She clutches at my wrist. “They can kill me if they want. I wouldn’t tell them a thing.”

“You’ll wish you were dead,” I say, leaning in close.

Fear flickers across her face, but it isn’t enough. Not nearly enough. She has to understand what’s at stake. I grip her throat in both of my hands and angle her head back. “One slight twist and I’d break your neck.”

She swallows. “You said they wouldn’t kill me.”