Chapter 12

Marlena stepsout of her apartment building, pulling a hood up over her head when the chill of the morning air hits her face.

It’s barely six, and the sun hasn’t even touched the sky yet, but I know my girl no matter the lighting.

And as I knew she would, she looks down the street one way then the other before shuffling to the bus stop on the corner.

I climb out of my car, easing the door shut so as not to alarm her just yet to my presence. She must think she is the first person to attempt to avoid me.

Though if I were a weaker man, I might take offense that my woman would sneak out under the cloak of the morning darkness to avoid a ride with me.

She’s not afraid of me, and she’s not as against being mine as she says she is. The woman has no idea how easily I can read her expressions.

I will agree that there’s something inside her that wants to put distance between us, but it’s a fear… Not of me, but something else that stops her from accepting her fate.

I fall into step behind her, far enough that she doesn’t suspect my presence, but close enough that she won’t get away from me if she does spot me and tries to make a run for it.

A part of me, the dark, depraved part of me, hopes she tries to escape. The catch will be so much fun.

For me.

She will end up with a red, hot ass for her trouble. And she could forget about work. I’ll have her tied to my bed until I get tired of sinking my cock into that hot sheath of hers.

Only when she’s crying my name in pleasure, begging for absolution, will I consider letting her up again. And not until she’s sworn she’ll never run again will I undo the bondage.

Fuck.

Just imagining her body squirming on my bed, arms bound to the headboard, her bare chest heaving from our time together makes my cock hard as a rock. I quickly adjust the steel rod in my jeans and force the imagery from my mind.

She ducks into the coffee shop at the corner, and I quickly follow her, glowering at a man who set his eyes on her as he passed. When he notices me, he puts his head down and hurries out the door.

Smart man.

“A venti caramel latte with an extra shot,” she orders.

“That will be seven fifty-five,” the young woman behind the register smiles.

“Keep the change.” I reach over Marlena’s shoulder with the money already in my hand.

Marlena turns her surprised face up at me.

Her gentle expression is short lived.

“What are you doing here?” she demands. I give her credit for trying to keep her voice down. But the cashier’s expression goes from customer service friendly to female concern in a blink.

“Is everything all right?” she asks Marlena, ignoring my money.

“Everything is fine.” I take a step forward when Marlena slides to the side and I offer the payment again.

“Yes. Everything’s fine.” She forces a smile at the cashier who finally takes the bill.

“Your drink will be ready at the counter,” the young woman tells Marlena, but keeps her eyes trained on me. I think she’s memorizing my features just in case she needs to give a detailed report later.

Marlena shoves past me and stomps over to where the drinks are delivered, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat. The hood has slipped down, revealing her hair.

She’s curled it this morning, making it even shorter than normal. Her cheeks are slightly pink from the winter chill outside. At least she’s wearing a warm coat. The hunter green tights she’s wearing can’t be offering much warmth, though.

“You said you wouldn’t be here until six-thirty,” she mutters under her breath when I come to stand beside her. As though it’s my fault she was caught in her little mischievous behavior.

“You said you’d be waiting,” I point out. “You also said you understood what would happen if you weren’t.” I lean toward her with the reminder.

Her little gasp is music to my cock. I need to get her alone. And soon.

“You’re impossible. Absolutely impossible.” She shakes her head.

“It’s true. My mother used to complain about my stubbornness. She said I got it from my father.” I look down at her. “She was right. We Petrovs are a stubborn family.”

“Marlena!” The barista slides a large cup of coffee across the counter.

I grab hold of her arm and put a finger out, a silent order to wait there, and I move forward through the other customers waiting for their morning coffees to grab it. After I have it, I gesture for her to follow me to the door.

She’s quick to catch up as I step out onto the sidewalk.

“Viktor, the bus will be here in a minute. Give me the coffee.” She tugs on the back of my leather jacket.

“I said I would drive you. Why would you want to take the public bus instead of driving in my warm, comfortable car?” I turn to ask her. “Do you truly find me so repellent?” Let’s see if she can lie straight to my face.

Her lips pinch together, and for a second, I think she’s going to do it. She’s going to try to insult me.

“No.” A cloud of air bursts in front of her as she sighs her answer. “Look. It’s nice of you to offer, really it is, but I do things on my own all the time and have for a long time. I don’t need you to ride in on some magical white horse to save me.” She looks away. “I’m good on my own.”

“A ride to work isn’t saving you.” I offer the cup. “But I think I understand.”

“Yes.” She takes the cup, and a small smile touches her lips.

“All right.” I zip up my jacket and walk past her to the covered waiting area. “Are you coming?”

Her mouth drops open.

“What are you doing?” She hurries beneath the shelter with me, scooting over to allow another woman inside with us.

“If you don’t want me to drive, I’ll take the bus with you.” I slide my hands into my pockets and lean over to look down the street. The bus is only a block down.

“Why? I just said I can do this on my own.”

“I’m compromising. I want to drive you so you’re safe and warm, you want to take the bus. This way you’re still taking the bus, and I’m making sure you’re safe. We’ve both given and gotten.”

I take a step back, dragging her with me as the bus pulls to a stop, and water from last night’s rain puddles splashes onto the cement. I’ll never get used to Chicago weather. It snows one day and rains the next. It can’t decide.

After other women get on the bus, I gesture for Marlena. She pinches her lips together in a straight line, blows a hard breath through her nose, then climbs up the steps into the bus.

She pulls out a card and sticks it into the card reader next to the driver then moves further into the bus.

“You need a payment card,” she calls over her shoulder, sounding very much like she believes this will stop me.

I look to the driver, who swallows hard as his eyes meet mine.

“Do you have a Ventra card?” he asks.

“No.” I hand him a fifty-dollar bill.

“I can’t make change.”

“I don’t need any.” I walk away from him and follow Marlena to the middle of the bus where she’s taken a window seat.

I sit beside her, careful I’m not squishing her against the window.

“Did you really think a little thing like a bus card would stop me?” I ask. She rolls her eyes and looks out the window.

She pulls her purse into her lap and scoots over a little more, giving me some space.

“You look ridiculous. You’re all muscle and so tall you barely fit.” She gestures to my knees hitting the back of the seats in front of us. I am squeezed in pretty tight, but it’s no more uncomfortable than I’ve been before.

“When I was twelve, I had to hide in the trunk of my father’s car. It was a tiny thing, my knees were up to my chin, and I could barely wiggle my toes because of all the tools and things my father kept in there. That was more uncomfortable than this,” I assure her.

“Why did you have to hide in the trunk of a car?” She swings her curious gaze to me.

I lift a shoulder. “My father was meeting with some very bad men; he didn’t want them to know I was there.” I pat her knee. “It was fine. They didn’t find me. I was safe. My father did his business, then we went home.”

Life back in Russia was much different than the life I’ve built here, but dangerous men are dangerous men all over the world. If those men had seen me, they could have used me against my father.

“I can’t believe he took you with him to commit a crime.”

“Why do you think it was a crime?” I ask.

“I’m sorry,” she blusters. “I just assumed…” She trails off when I laugh.

“Relax, moy sladkiy voin. You assumed right. He was making a deal with men for weapons.” I stretch my arm out across the back of the seats behind her.

Before she can respond, a woman in her early sixties stops at the seats in front of us. After taking her seat, she turns to Marlena with a warm smile.

“I want to thank you again for the television set. My son set it up for me, and it’s working perfectly. And my daughter, Cherise, loves the china cabinet. Fits perfectly in her dining room.”

Marlena’s cheeks flush.

“I’m glad your daughter likes it so much.” She casts a quick glance my way before sinking in her seat again.

“You gave this woman your television and the china cabinet?” I ask when the older woman turns around and settles a pair of headphones over her ears.

“No. I didn’t give them to her. I sold them.” Marlena looks out the window. “My stop is coming up.” She reaches up and pulls the little rope over her head to ring the bell, so the driver knows not to skip the stop.

“I need to get off here.” She nudges me when I continue to block her exit.

“Why did you sell your television and the cabinet?” I climb out of the tiny spot.

“Because.” She brushes past me and hurries to the doors of the bus just as it comes to a stop and the hydraulic system kicks in, lowering the bus to the curb. She grabs at the metal pole to keep from stumbling forward, and I grab hold of her other arm, steadying her.

“Because why?” I insist as we step off the bus and head toward the salon she works in. It’s at least a two-block walk. Plenty of time for her to tell me what’s going on. Guilt rushed through her features when the woman thanked her for the television.

She stops walking.

“Because I needed the money.” She looks up at me with her face flushed, her eyes wide with frustration. “I needed cash, so I sold my television to Mrs. Lowdry because hers broke and she found mine on the Facebook marketplace. And before you ask, yes, I sold my coffee table too.” She gestures with her hand, causing some of the coffee to spill out of the small opening on the lid.

These secrets she’s being holding back, they are finally starting to surface.

Her shoulders drop and she ducks her chin. “I needed cash, so I sold a few things. Okay?”

I narrow my gaze. There’s more here.

“Why did you need cash? And what about all the little crystal ornament things that were inside the cabinet? Did you sell them too? And why are you sewing wedding dresses for your neighbors?” If she needs money, I can fix that problem within seconds. But it’s the reason she needs cash that concerns me. Is she in trouble?

Who am I going to have to kill?

She growls then starts walking again. I’ve never heard a woman make a sound like that. I keep up with her easily, even with her fast pace; my legs are much longer.

“Marlena, you need to tell me what’s going on. And I mean now.” I grab hold of her arm just as we reach the salon. “No more games. Tell me.”

She rips her arm from my grasp. “If I tell you, do you promise to leave it alone? To leave me alone?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not leaving you alone. Ever.” I’ve been clear about this, but maybe she needs reminding. When her shift is over, she’ll have another lesson. I’ll add it to the punishment she has coming for trying to avoid me this morning.

She makes the same growly sound again. “I owe someone money. A lot of money. Now, I have to get to work. Do not follow me in there. If I lose my job because of you, I’ll never forgive you.” She pokes a finger at my chest. “Ever.”

I grab hold of her hand, bring it up to my lips, and kiss the tip of her finger.

“We’ll talk more later. Be ready to spill all your secrets, and to pay for your behavior this morning.” I open her hand and kiss her palm before letting her go.

“You just won’t take no for an answer, will you?” She curls her hand and brings it to her chest.

“Not from you. No.” I gesture toward the front door of her work. “Have a good day, moy sladkiy voin.”

She stares at me for a beat, uncertainty filling her gaze.

A woman passes us, says hello to Marlena, eyes me with curiosity, and then hurries to the door.

“Yeah. You too, Viktor,” she finally says and heads into work.

I watch through the glass walls as she passes the reception desk, waving at the women getting set up for the day.

I hope she enjoys her day, because when I get my hands on her tonight, she’s going to be begging for mercy.

Something I don’t give.