I ALLOW MYSELF EXACTLY ONE minute to be sad after the truck pulls away. Only sixty seconds to stare out the tiny window, watching until the red taillights disappear into the early-morning fog surrounding the trees, to feel wrecked and ruined over the thought that last night and this morning could be the last time I ever see Madden Decker.
Then, when that minute is up, all the disparaging thoughts and negative energy are tucked away, and I leap off the couch with an encouraging smile on my face. My situation may not be ideal, but things are starting to look up. Madden knowing the truth about my past and still loving me despite it all is the ultimate reason I need to do whatever it is that’s required of me here, and then return to my life with him. Even if it means murdering a man in cold-blood. I’ve done it before to save my life, and it’s exactly what I plan to do again.
Grabbing the bucket of disinfectants and wood polish, I clean the cabin from top to bottom, just like I did yesterday while Raze was gone. I’m desperate for something to keep my mind occupied until he returns. I can’t wait to tell him thank you for what he did, and even more than that, I’m eager to find out if he has more information on Vincent and Anatoli’s discussions. I’m ready to get this shit over with.
By early afternoon, there’s not a speck of dust in the entire place and the toilet is more sanitary than most people’s kitchen table. But still no Raze.
I briefly consider taking a shower, but I’m not ready to wash Madden’s scent off my skin just yet, so I opt for reading on the couch, randomly selecting one of the books Raze had brought for me. Unfortunately, I don’t make it past the second page before the lack of sleep from last night catches up with me, and I pass out cold.
I’m not sure if it’s the cabin door slamming shut or Raze’s boots stomping across the floor that jolts me from my slumber, but whichever it is, it’s clear by his brusque movements and lack of words he’s pissed about something. As he makes a beeline for the safe in the corner of the bedroom, I prop myself up with my elbow on the armrest of the couch, which provides me an unobstructed view to what he’s doing.
Hurriedly, he enters some numbers on the keypad then presses his thumb against a small rectangular scanner, and the door releases with a loud click. Pulling the laptop out first, he sets it to the side before digging through a stack of file folders, his jaw clenching tight when he finds the one he’s looking for. Something Russian is muttered under his breath as he opens it and scans the first couple of pages, and then he tosses it back inside with the others and snags the computer.
“Is everything okay?” I ask meekly when he stalks back out into the main room and throws himself into a kitchen chair.
Ignoring my question, he plugs in the device and glowers at the screen while it boots up. He doesn’t look in my direction once, like I’m not even here.
Clearing my throat, I repeat my question louder. “Is everything okay?”
Again, no response. Just angry fingers vehemently punching away on the keyboard, stopping every few seconds to jot down a note on a piece of paper.
“Raze, damn it, I know you can hear me,” I snap, jackknifing up to a ninety-degree angle as worry about Madden’s wellbeing seeps in. “Tell me what happened. I know something’s wrong with you.”
He growls, cutting his intimidating stare in my direction. “You know nothing about me, girl. Go back to sleep.”
Incensed at the sudden cold-shoulder act, I toss the throw blanket aside and scramble to my feet. “You’re wrong,” I seethe, crossing my arms over my chest. “You think I’ve learned nothing about you while we’ve basically been living together over the last couple of weeks? Like I can’t tell when something’s happened that’s clearly upset you? ”
Fisting his hands, he pounds them on the table as he shoots up to standing. His nostrils flare and I swear I see foam gathering at the corners of his mouth. “This is your last warning. Shut your fucking mouth or I will gag you and shut it for you.”
I don’t.
“No! You fly in here after being gone all day, don’t even bother with a hello, and frantically search for shit in your safe. Then, when I ask you if you’re okay, you flat out ignore me until I throw a fit. And all of this is coming from the person who just went through the trouble of sneaking in a man to see me so I could get a chance to tell him I love him . . . it doesn’t make any sense, Raze. Now tell me what’s going on!”
Slumping back in the hard wooden chair, he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he shakes his head, muttering something I can’t understand. Suddenly, I’m no longer irritated with him, but filled with worry instead. The only other time I’ve seen him look so vulnerable was when he mentioned his late-wife. And despite the fact he towers over most everyone, is built like the Rock of Gibraltar, can kill a man with his bare hands, and has a vicious scar marring his face that would intimidate Tony Montana himself, right now he looks like a helpless, lost soul. Struggling to find answers.
My feet move on their accord across the dingy carpet, and before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m on his lap, wrapping my thin arms around his neck, and pulling him into my embrace. I half expect him to resist, to jerk out of my hold, and the fact that he doesn’t speaks volumes. Whatever happened while he was gone today must’ve really hit him hard, and rather than asking about it again, I shut my mouth and allow him to deal with it however he needs to.
“I was supposed to go to Chicago that day. It should’ve been me that died, not her. It should’ve been m-me.” His voice cracks as he nuzzles his face into my neck.
Offering solace the only way I know how, I squeeze Raze even tighter to me and soothingly thread my fingers through the short blonde hair at his nape. I don’t push. I don’t ask questions. My actions let him know I’m here if he wants to continue to talk. And even though I desperately wish I knew what happened, I know all too well that everyone has to face their demons on their own time, at their own pace. Some of mine I still leave locked away in the dark recesses of my mind.
“I still remember the first day I saw her,” he says after several minutes of silence. I relax my arms to allow him to lean back in the chair, our gazes locking. “It was right after we moved here, and my grandfather hosted a big party to welcome his youngest son—my dad—and the rest of our family to the States. I walked into that house full of people, and it was like I could only see her. Her beauty commanded my full attention. I knew I’d marry her before we ever said a word to each other.”
I smile at the thought of Raze as a love-struck teenager. I bet he was a great husband to his wife. “Hold that thought,” I blurt out as I jump off of his lap and head into the kitchen. Reaching up on my tiptoes, I grab the bottle of vodka from the top shelf in the cabinet, along with two small glasses. After I pour the potent liquor in each, I return to the table—opting for the chair next to him this time—and slide the glass with more to him. “Okay, now we’re ready. Tell me what happened after you saw her.”
Lifting the drink up in the air, he swirls the clear liquid around. His shoulders relax and the anguish slowly evaporates from his face. “Well, the first thing I did was ask my cousin and best friend, Alexei, whose daughter she was and if she had a boyfriend. If there’s two things you don’t do in my family, it’s fall in love with a rival’s daughter or another man’s woman. Both will get you dead pretty quickly.”
“So I take it she was single and of good bloodlines?”
“Yeah, she was definitely single,” he replies with a soft chuckle. “Her dad is the most feared man in the Bratva. We call him Palach, the Executioner. No sane male would get within fifty feet of her, fearing they’d have to answer to him first.”