Break For Him (Volkov Crime Family 2)

She met my gaze and I couldn’t read her expression.

“Are things about to get really bad?”

I reached out and touched her cheek. “Not for you. Now come on. Let’s go back to the house and relax for the day. What do you say?”

She shrugged and turned her head away from me. She looked out the window and stared at the sidewalk.

Poor little diamond. Trapped in my house, stuck in a war she didn’t want.

And yearning for a man she probably hated.

I started the car and drove back home.8LeighI spent the rest of the day hiding away in my room. I heard Owain bang around downstairs and while I was tempted to go see what he was doing, I kept myself locked away.

I felt like I still had the smell of smoke in my hair.

But after a few boring hours I finally pulled on something clothes and wandered down the steps. It was night out, just past eight, and I found Owain sitting on the couch with a glass of something brown in one hand and his feet up on the coffee table. A football game played on the TV. He glanced toward me and a small smile registered at the corner of his lips.

“There she is. Thought you might’ve died.”

“Still alive.” I took a few steps toward him then stopped. “You’ve been here all day?”

“Even gangsters need a day off.”

“Right.” I looked at the TV awkwardly, not sure why I felt like I needed to linger. Eventually I walked past him and into the kitchen. He said nothing, but I felt his eyes on my body as I passed.

I made some dinner and took it out to the dining room table. I could see the game from the far seat and eat as quietly as I could.

“You don’t have to hide.” He craned his neck to look at me. “I know you’re living here.”

“Living here? Or being kept captive here?”

He gestured, palms up. “Not much difference.”

I looked away. “I’m just trying to be a good guest.”

He barked a laugh and got up. I watched him walk past me and into the kitchen. He returned with a full glass a moment later and slid it across the table.

I stared at it and looked back at him.

“What’s this?”

“Whisky. Drink up.”

“No, thanks.” I pushed it away. “I’m not in the mood.”

“So you’re going to make me drink alone?”

“Nobody’s making you do a thing.”

He rubbed his face and pulled out the chair across from me. It groaned over the hard wood and creaked as he dropped his weight into it.

“I got a call from the boys earlier I thought you might be interested in.”

I sat up straighter. “The store?”

“Not ruined.”

I felt a strange flood of relief. “But there has to be damage.”

“There’s definitely damage. We need to do some serious work, and all your stock’s got to go. So you’d better start brainstorming some new ideas.”

I nodded slowly and tried to keep the anguish from my face. “What else?”

“It’s mostly smoke damage. Though the fire fucked up the floors, so they’ll have to come. They’re going to redo the whole front, put up new drywall, rip out anything remotely messed up. You can have as much say in that process as you want.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Make it as nice as you want. Don’t worry about the cost.”

I gave him a look. “That seems a little much.”

“I feel bad you almost got killed on your first fucking day, so I thought I’d try and make up for it.”

“How about you let me go? That’d make things even.”

He grinned at me, head tilted, and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “You don’t want that, little diamond. Come on now.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

He leaned over the table. “Because you’re hard and beautiful. Even if you don’t know just how much you sparkle.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck.

“Good line.”

He bowed his head. “Thank you.”

“I guess I’ll come up with some new ideas for the store. How long do you think it’ll take?”

“Month, probably. In the meantime, I got another spot you can work.”

I sat very still and stared. “Excuse me?”

He looked toward the football game. The announcers sounded excited.

“I got another store. It’s a little piece of shit bodega, but you can work out the back.”

“You almost got me killed and you’re still going to make me sell drugs?”

“You won’t be selling anything. That’s not the job.”

I threw my hands up. “What the hell is the job, then?”

“You’re going to sit in the back room and watch TV all day until the Jackals come. Then you’re going to call me.”

I dropped my hands and leaned back in my chair staring at him. I could barely understand what he was saying. My ears started ringing.

“You want… me to be bait?”

“Pretty much.”