6. Lev

6

LEV

I can’t remember when I last slept. It must have been almost forty-eight hours ago, but my mind is racing like I’ve just had a triple espresso. Having Elle so close is putting me on edge, and not just because I’m worried for her safety.

I can’t stop picturing her in my bed. What I wouldn’t give to join her, to pull her body against mine and bury my nose in her hair…

I have no right thinking such thoughts.

Elle isn’t mine, and she never will be, no matter how badly I wish it could be otherwise.

After locking her back in the bedroom, I remain by the door and press my ear against it. From the way she’s stomping around, she sounds frustrated.

I know she was hoping to find something in one of the drawers that would give my identity away, but I’ve been keeping myself hidden for years. I learned a long time ago not to have anything of sentimental value, because it only brings back memories that I would rather forget, so I have no photos from my childhood. No family heirlooms or antique trinkets that my great grandmother inherited on her wedding day.

I had a family, once. But that was a long time ago, and I’d rather pretend like they never existed. It hurts less that way.

As much as I want to stay outside the bedroom door listening to Elle, I can’t afford to waste any more time. If I have any chance of finding out who the hell was driving that car that took her, I need to move fast.

Slipping out of the cabin as quietly as I can, I walk around the porch until I’m on the opposite side to the bedroom.

I don’t want to risk Elle overhearing the conversation and panicking. She already was woken by a nightmare, no doubt brought on by the kidnapping, and I don’t want to cause her any more distress.

There’s only one person I can trust to look into this, so I pull my burner phone out of my pocket and dial Pyotr’s number from memory.

“Lev,” he grumbles after he answers the call.

“You sound like you’ve been asleep.”

“Been out on a job for the past two days. I’m fucking exhausted, so whatever it is you’re about to ask of me, can it wait?”

“No.”

“Thought so…”

Pyotr is one of the few people I’m still in contact with from when I was a teenager. He was friends with my brother Maxim, but somehow over the years they drifted apart, and we grew closer. Perhaps it was because of forced proximity, but Pyotr never treated me like an outsider, which is how I felt for most of my life .

I always wondered if it was because he felt the same, but I’ve never pried.

He knows he can talk to me, and sometimes that’s enough to build the kind of trust that we have.

“You might want to put a pot of coffee on, this might take a while.”

My friend is quiet as I give him a brief rundown of what happened to Elle as well as reciting the car registration of the fake uber. He’s good enough at what he does that he could have likely tracked down the perpetrator from the color of the car and nothing else. It’s why he’s one of the most sought-after private investigators in the state.

“I need to know who is responsible, Pyotr.”

“I gathered as much.”

“Call me back on this number once you have something.”

Taking my own advice, I head back inside the cabin and put some water on to boil for some coffee as I wait impatiently for the phone to ring.

Elle is quiet, and I have no doubt she’s gone back to sleep.

I wish I could let her out, and we could just enjoy each other’s company, sitting on the couch in front of the fire, talking long into the night. But the thought of her seeing me has my chest tightening to the point of pain.

Pyotr is true to his reputation and gets back to me before I’ve had a chance to finish my second cup of coffee.

I take the half-empty mug back outside and sit on the front steps as I answer his call.

“The guys you killed belong to a crime gang that have known connections to the mafia. Turns out they were planning on using Elle as ransom to gain assets from the Conti family. ”

“I thought as much.” I run a hand over my face. “Don’t suppose you got me a location?”

“I do, but I’m hesitant to give it to you.”

“Pyotr.” I ball my free hand into a fist.

“Fine, I’ll send you the location, but I need to warn you. There’s at least six members currently there, maybe more, and I’m assuming you’re planning on storming the place? I know you don’t like taking advice, but you’re a fucking dead man if you go in there alone.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I can go with you?—”

“I need you to come to the cabin and keep an eye on Elle.”

Pyotr scoffs. “You want me to babysit your hostage?”

“She’s not a hostage.”

“Try telling her that.”

“I appreciate you wanting to help, but there’s nobody else I trust enough to look after Elle while I’m gone.”

“‘I’m flattered. Let me at least call some of my guys to help. Most of them owe me a favor or two, so they’d do it no questions asked, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No need. I can handle this on my own.”

I always do .

Within an hour, Pyotr arrives just as I finish packing up my car with two shotguns and a handful of knives that I keep stashed away beneath the floorboards in the kitchen. His hair is shorter since the last time I saw him, and he’s clean shaven, which is unusual. Normally, he sports a more rugged appearance, similar to my own, which makes me wonder about the recent job he’s just finished .

He eyes the trunk full of weapons but says nothing as I finish double checking my supplies. If anything, there’s a hint of disappointment on his face as I climb into the driver's seat of the car, offering him a curt nod before backing away from the cabin, and trying not to focus on the fact that I’m leaving Elle.

It takes me over an hour to reach the location that Pyotr gave me for the gang's hideout. I use the time to clear my mind.

I can’t afford to get emotional about this, not if I want to make it back to Elle before the sun comes up.

By the time I park up and gather my weapons from the trunk, my body almost feels numb, as if I’m looking at myself from above.

My movements aren’t my own as I stalk across the street and enter the derelict-looking laundry, that to any regular passerby would seem long forgotten.

But I know better.

It doesn’t take much force to get the door open, and I creep across the filthy floor, adjusting the shotgun in my hand. I barely notice the weight of it as I approach the door behind the counter that will lead to the men who organized the attack on Elle.

One wrong move, and I’ll likely end up with a bullet between my eyes, and that simply isn’t an option.

This is going to be quick, and it’s going to be dirty.

My preferred way to fight.

I take one last deep breath, letting my mind still as I focus on the weight of the gun in my hands, and send my foot through the door.

Before any of the men sitting around the table even know what’s happening, two of them are already dead.

I fire a third shot straight in the neck of the guy sitting with his back to me as I reach the bottom of the stairs. By the time his body falls to the floor with a thud, I’ve already put bullets in the heads of two other guys, blasting apart their skulls.

Most of the men are already dead before they have a chance to react, despite the half a dozen handguns littering the table.

My ears ring from the gunfire as blood sprays over my face, coating my skin as well as the floors and walls.

I barely flinch at the pushback from the gun as the force of the bullets shatters skull after skull.

My rage takes over, pulling me out of my body and letting it work on instinct.

My reflexes have always been exceptionally sharp, thanks to spending most of my life being a punching bag for my father.

The anger that I never got to unleash on him sits dormant in my veins for moments like this, where I can unleash it on scum like the ones lying dead at my feet.

Panting, I glance around at the bodies that litter the floor, most of them unrecognizable from the gunshot wounds I inflicted on them.

Nine dead.

They all deserve a hell of a lot worse than a bullet in the head for daring to come anywhere near Elle, but I don’t have the time to waste on torturing them. I need to get back to her, so I push past my deep-rooted desire for revenge and focus on getting some answers.

One more to go, depending on how well he cooperates.

I’ve learned that within a gang, you can always find one that values his life over loyalty, and I know from the way this fucker cowers beneath the table after I fire my first shot that he is the weak link. He hasn’t dared to move from his hiding spot as the blood of his friends pools around him.

Fucking pathetic.

“I suggest you cooperate.” I bend down and grab the last surviving man by the collar and drag him out from under the table.

He blubbers like a scared child, with tears already leaking down his cheeks.

“P-please,” he whimpers, holding up shaking hands as he stares down the barrel of my gun.

The crotch of his pants darkens, and I wrinkle my nose as I’m hit with the stench of urine.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a pathetic sight.

“Why did you target Elle Conti?” I place my foot on his chest to keep him down as I aim my gun at his head.

“We…we wanted…” He swallows, his face losing the last of its color as he looks at the body to his right.

Brain matter stains the carpet, and he retches.

My patience is running out. “Speak. Otherwise, you’ll be joining him.”

“The weapons,” he chokes, looking back at my gun. “W-we w-wanted a-access.”

I should have known.

Massimo Conti has built one of the largest weapon manufacturing rings, not just in New York, but in the entire country. Attempts to infiltrate it aren’t rare, but to kidnap a member of his family as bait is. Only someone truly powerful would be stupid enough to risk such a move.

“Why Elle? Why not Massimo’s daughter?”

“She’s married to…to a…” He swallows, and I don’t miss the flas h of fear in his eyes.

“Koslov, I know.”

I pull the trigger.

Pyotr is sitting at the kitchen table when I arrive back at the cabin. He glances my way and rolls his eyes as he takes in my bloody hands and shirt.

“You’re free to go.”

I swear he chuckles as I walk straight past him and into the bathroom to wash off the coppery smell that clings to my skin.

The scalding hot water turns my skin raw as I wash away all the blood. The water eventually runs clear, but I’m still left feeling unclean.

If Elle wasn’t here, I would spend another hour standing underneath the water, even after it turned cold, washing my skin over and over until it was red raw.

But I need to get Elle back to her apartment before the sun comes up. Now that the men behind her kidnapping have been taken care of, there is no reason for her to stay at the cabin, and keeping her locked up for my own satisfaction isn’t an option.

She has a life to live. One without me in it.

Elle is quiet on the drive back to the city. I can’t tell if it’s because she’s upset or just lost in her own thoughts.

The quiet suits me well, but I can’t help but miss the sound of her voice .

I should be grateful to even be this close to her, even if it’s just for a short time, but I want more.

I always want more.

Elle doesn’t ask how I know where she lives or why I’m leading her up the fire escape toward her small balcony. Still, she remains quiet, and I’m starting to feel uneasy.

Though that soon turns to frustration when I find the window off her balcony is wide open.

“You shouldn’t leave this window unlocked.”

“It’s in case of emergencies.” She struggles to get her legs over the ledge. “I need to get the spare key for the door anyway, seeing as my purse is long gone, as well as my phone.”

“It’s not safe to keep your window open.” I get anxious at the thought of leaving Elle. “Anyone could just climb up your fire escape.”

“Like you?”

I say nothing, and the corners of her lips twitch.

“Nothing is safe if you really think about it. I could choke on a piece of sushi, or I could trip on the sidewalk and crack my head open.”

I bristle at her words, at the images she’s putting in my head, but I choose to stay quiet as I lead her over to her bed where she perches on the edge.

So many times, I’ve imagined crawling into bed beside her, wrapping her in my arms and listening to the soft sounds of her breathing as she sleeps soundly.

Clearing my throat, I turn toward the window, my chest tightening at the thought of leaving.

Before she starts asking more questions I can’t answer.

“I should go.”

“Wait. ”

I freeze, my senses on high alert as Elle gets to her feet.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see her wobble in place, the lack of sight knocking her off balance.

I’m reaching for her before I have a chance to stop myself.

My hands gently grip her shoulders, holding her still as she regains her balance.

“I’m clumsy at the best of times…” she mumbles. “I just… I wanted to…”

She leans toward me and wraps her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly.

It takes me a second to react.

I can’t remember the last time someone hugged me, and my entire body tenses at the close contact.

She barely reaches my shoulder, and she feels so small, so fragile as my arms wrap around her instinctively.

“I just wanted to thank you,” she whispers, her cheek resting against my chest. “For saving my life.”

Having her so close is making me second guess my decision to let her go. It’s selfish of me to crave her like this, to seek comfort in her touches when she’s only doing it out of obligation.

She could never love me like I love her, because ultimately that’s what I feel for Elle.

Love.

Because if she truly knew me, she would feel nothing but hate.

“Please, can I take the blindfold off? I want to see who you are.”

I drop my arms and step away because I can’t think straight when her body is pressed up against mine, when her scent is filling my nose like a drug.

“Trust me, it’s better this way.” My words come out colder than I intend, but they don’t seem to put Elle off.

She bites her lower lip, and I’m so mesmerized by her mouth that I don’t realize she’s on her tiptoes, her hands moving to my shoulders to steady herself as she leans in.

I blink, and her lips are on mine.

The touch is hesitant, but when I don’t pull away, she parts her lips, and something inside me snaps.

My fingers thread into her dark hair, holding her in place as my tongue gently teases her lower lip in a silent invitation.

Elle parts her lips eagerly and when my tongue brushes against hers, I can’t stop the moan from building in my throat.

She tastes even sweeter than I imagined, and I devour her mouth like it’s my last meal, stroking my tongue against hers in the same way I would if I were between her thighs.

Her fingers grip my shirt, pulling me closer as I angle her head back to give me better access.

She submits to me without question, and my mind fills with thoughts that I have no business entertaining as I explore her mouth, gently nipping at her lips with my teeth that has her body melting against me.

Everything about her is soft. Her lips, her cheeks, her hair.

I want nothing more than to explore every inch of her skin with my mouth, to know if her pussy tastes just as sweet?—

I break away, panting as I try to catch my breath.

My cock throbs painfully, and if Elle were to move any closer, she would feel just how badly I want her.

I’ve already crossed too many lines, and I can’t risk crossing any more .

“I have to go.” I untangle my fingers from her hair and step out of reach.

Elle stands frozen in place, her lips swollen from our kiss and her dark hair disheveled.

I don’t think I’ve seen her look so beautiful, which is exactly why I need to get the fuck out of here before I do something I regret.