Torrid (Sordid 2)

I trembled as I lifted my arms and shut my eyes, but otherwise I stood as still as possible. I didn’t even breathe.

I wore a long-sleeved wraparound dress made of wool, and thin leggings beneath, so nearly every inch of my body was covered, but it didn’t matter. Goran’s hands started at my shoulders, and I could feel them through the fabric as if his palms were made of sandpaper. They dragged and scraped over my body, lingering in all the same places Ilia’s had, and I was only a hair’s breadth from a nervous breakdown.

It’s almost over. Just hang on.

I stepped back at the same moment he seemed to finish, and air poured back into my lungs. Goran looked at me with curiosity, not sure what to make of me.

“I’m sorry,” I said between hurried breaths. “Strangers make me nervous. Could we . . . be alone?”

He acted like it was the greatest idea ever. “Have a good night, Filip.”

“Should I tell Clive he can go, too?” Filip asked. “It’s Christmas.”

Once more, he earned a dirty look from his boss. Goran didn’t want me knowing there was someone else in the house. But he gave me a discerning pass, and must have decided he was safe with me. He withdrew his phone from his back pocket, and thumbed out a message. “I’ve let him know.”

I didn’t wait for Filip to leave before I blurted it out. “Vasilije said your library has a map painted on the ceiling. Can we start there?”

Goran’s black eyes lit with amusement, like I was a silly girl he’d humor. “Why not? It’s this way.”

I varied the length of my stride as we went like I’d done years ago, making it difficult for the predator beside me to get too close. I knew from experience that if he caught me, we might not make it to the library. Goran didn’t seem to be in a rush to move on me, though. He likely thought he’d have all night to fuck me.

Too bad, I was about to fuck him.

He pushed open a door and flipped on the light. Bookcases lined the walls and were full of picture-perfect books, spines in a variety of colors and heights. The room was classic, like a library set from a movie. My gaze went up to the large antique map on the ceiling, painted in earthy gold colors. It was beautiful, and my eyes flitted over Russia, finding the place where I’d grown up, before I knew anything about Sergey Petrov or the Markovics.

While I found the room comforting, Goran did not. He pulled up short as he discovered a young man half-sitting, half-leaning against the desk, a gun in hand and an eyebrow arched upward into a sharp point.

38

Vasilije

I’d worn my favorite black suit for the occasion, but my uncle didn’t seem to notice. His gaze was locked onto my gun.

“Sit,” I said, flicking the barrel to the brown leather wingback chair.

He didn’t move. “Be careful, Vasilije. I can take everything away from you. She isn’t worth this.”

The dumb fuck thought I was throwing a tantrum about her being stolen from me. He was wrong on so many levels. I stood and my expression hardened. “Sit. The. Fuck. Down.”

He rolled his eyes, and lowered into the chair like he was humoring me.

I motioned to the gold colored couch for Oksana to sit, and I plopped my ass down beside her. I wanted her close. If things went sideways, I could protect her better this way.

The lighting in the room was soft and everything was designed to make you feel comfortable. It was a space where you wouldn’t mind to stay and read. But the air in the library was warm. Too warm for me. It pressed down on my skin, making me feel sluggish when I wanted to be on my motherfucking toes.

“When we’re done here,” he said, “I’m going to kill your whore. Or maybe I’ll just cut up that pretty face she has.”

“You aren’t going to do shit, and don’t call her that again. This isn’t about her.”

“Oh? Then why’s she here?”

“Because we don’t keep secrets from each other.” He looked at me critically, but I didn’t let him get in a word. It was my show now. “Not like the way you and I work. Lots of skeletons in both our closets.”

“Fuck,” he said in Serbian. “Stop being so dramatic.”

I stayed in English. “You used to have a bodyguard named David. What happened to him?”

He stiffened. Then he had the balls to act resigned. “I don’t know if your father told you boys the story. He always tried to protect you from the negative stuff, especially when it came to your mother.”

Was he fucking joking? My dad had done nothing to hide his shit.

“When I found out your mother was fucking David on the side, I had him killed.”