Billie and the Russian Beast - 50 Loving States, South Carolina - Quarantales - Page 29

I silently curse. How had I forgotten that I called her this morning and left a message? That Cheslav is one hell of a distraction.

“Also, why’s it so noisy?” she demands.

“Oh, sorry, it’s the ocean. Here, let me step inside.”

I turn the phone downwards so that Cynda won’t be able to see anything but the floor as I tell Cheslav, “I have to go inside to take this. It’s my friend, and she can’t hear me.”

Both of Cheslav’s eyebrows come up. “Your friend? Same friend who got you in trouble? Perhaps it is time for introduction.”

“Okaygoinginsidenowbye.” I open the balcony door and leap through it before Cheslav says anything else Cynda will definitely ask me to explain.

I lock myself up in the ensuite bathroom in my bedroom and sit down on the toilet before flipping the phone back around.

“Hey, what’s up?” Cynda immediately demands. “Who was that? And why are you at the ocean?”

“Long story,” I answer. “And that’s not why I called. Tommy came by my condo a few days ago. He was demanding to know where Gina was. Like I was hiding her from him or something. The conversation got weird and threatening.”

“What?” Cynda’s expression immediately goes from suspicious to worried. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” I assure her. “Don’t worry.”

“Is that why you’re staying near the ocean now?” she asks, her tone a little less interrogating now.

“Yeah, sort of. Like I said, it’s a long story. But I’m safe. I’m just worried about Gina.”

Cynda, who was never Tommy’s biggest fan in the first place, narrows her eyes. “You didn’t tell him about the email, did you?”

“No, of course, I didn’t tell him she went to Canada. Even with the border closed, he might go looking for her there. But Cynda…” I fret my lip. “Do you think that’s where she really is?”

Cynda looks down, like she’s feeling sick to her stomach, just like me.

“I don’t know,” she answers quietly. “I mean she hasn’t gotten in contact like she said she would. Also, I didn’t know she had an aunt in Canada. Did you?”

I shake my head, feeling even sicker with worry. “I think we need to try to find her. Make sure she’s safe.”

“Me too. But how? Like, hire a detective?” Her eyes suddenly widen. “Wait, could you ask your mysterious Russian with the beach house right on the ocean to help us?”

Now I narrow my eyes suspiciously. “How did you know he’s Russian? And has a beach house on the ocean?”

“Girl, I am from small town Missouri,” she answers, sucking her teeth. “We don’t even have to sip the tea. We get all of it with just a whiff. Now, are you going to tell me this long story or what?”

I grimace and look away. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“You are so obviously lying!” Cynda shouts, pointing an accusatory finger into the phone.

“Okay, I’m getting off the phone now,” I answer with a laugh.

“But wait, I want to hear more about the sexy Russian? Is he mafia or a hockey player? I mean why else would a Russian be in South Caroli—”

I hang up before she can finish that problematic assumption. It’s not the nicest thing to do, I know. But Cynda can be like a pit bull with a bone, and Cheslav isn’t a conversation I’m ready to have yet.

Which makes it all that more ironic when I find the secret hockey player elephant in the room standing right outside the door when I emerge from the bathroom.

“Why do you not tell me real reason this cop comes to your home?” he demands.

Several emotions hit me at once, and I decide to go with outrage first. “Why were you listening in on my phone call?”

Cheslav sneers in that particularly Russian way of his. “Know that I am one bored hockey player. If you hide in bathroom to gossip with friend, of course, I will listen. And now you will answer my question about not coming to me with this problem.”

I shake my head. “I mean, it’s not your problem.”

“Your problems are my problems,” he informs me, pulling out his phone. “You will tell me this Gina’s full name. And I will have Vlad look into it. Also, her boyfriend’s name. I do not like that he would show up at your home. He will not do this ever again now that you are under my protection.”

I stare at him, not knowing how to take this. “I’m not…I’m not yours to protect.”

“You and I both know this is not true,” he immediately answers, his expression softening. “I will protect you and baby. I will protect you always.”

And of course, he looks deep in my eyes.

Okay, did I say this guy played to conquer? Make that melt.

He melts me. And even though I know what’s right, what’s entirely rational and logical, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to withstand this.

Tags: Theodora Taylor Romance
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