Chapter 4

“Viktor.”As if I needed any more complications today.

Right before me stands the monstrous man who is probably a little peeved that I managed to get home last night by myself. It took sneaking out while he was in the bathroom, but I’d gotten down to the street and on the bus before he could get down there.

“Are you hurt?” He grabs my chin, lifting it up and then to the side, checking for who knows what.

“I’m fine.” I swat his hands away. “Stop pawing at me. I’m fine.”

His expression darkens. “I don’t paw.” I think I’ve insulted the man. And I’m sure men have walked away with broken bones for doing less.

I take a step back, so I can look up at him without straining my neck.

“I’m not hurt. I’m just trying to catch the bus.” As if on cue, the CTA bus passes us. Melted snow sloshes up the curb onto the sidewalk as it does.

“You missed it.” He turns his head to watch the bus drive right past the stop.

“Yeah. I did.” I shove my hands into my pockets.

“What are you doing here anyway?” He looks over my shoulder, down the street as if I’ve left breadcrumbs for him to find.

“I was just getting a cup of coffee with a friend.” The chill must be freezing my brain. That’s the best I could come up with.

“A friend?” His eyes narrow, still looking behind me, like he’s seeing something he’s not happy about.

I make the mistake of turning to follow his glare. My stomach does several flips before taking a nosedive.

Jimmy stands outside the diner, texting on his phone.

He knew about Izzy being married to Andrei; he’ll recognize Viktor if he looks this way.

“It’s too cold to just stand here.” I brush past him and start walking away. He won’t be able to let me walk alone, he’ll follow. And maybe then Jimmy won’t see him.

I’m right. The arrogant man catches up to me in two strides.

“You’re friends with that man?” He presses his hand flat against the small of my back, leading me around the corner to where his SUV is parked.

I wouldn’t park a junk car on this street, but his car sits perfectly safe out in the open. It’s the little symbol on the license plates, I think. A family crest. It acts as a neon sign warning anyone about touching it.

“What man?” He could be talking about anyone else on the street. Jimmy hadn’t been the only one around; there were at least two passed out against the building. Maybe if I convince myself, I can convince him.

He pulls me to a stop at the passenger side door of his car, setting his dark stare on me again.

“Marlena. Tell me the truth. No more lying, no more secrets. What are you doing in this part of town and how do you know that man?” His left eyebrow lifts a fraction. He’s waiting, but he’s not patient.

“Viktor. What I do is my business, not yours.” I’m amazed I can keep my voice so steady while his glare sends rockets of electricity through my body. At least for the moment, my mind is still mine to control.

He leans down, his nose only a sliver from mine.

“I’m making it my business.” His mouth quirks a little to the side. I can’t take my eyes from his lips. They’re so full, so masculine, and so close to mine.

Dammit. What is wrong with me?

It’s the stress from Jimmy extorting me for everything I have and more. That has to be it, because under no circumstance would I stand on the street and let some guy talk to me like this. Nor would it make me want to kiss him.

Kiss him?

I really am losing it.

“Marlena. Tell me,” he says, and I realize I’ve been staring at him instead of answering.

“He’s no one, Viktor.” I tear my gaze away from his mouth and force myself to look into his eyes.

Not much better. There’s heat there. A darkness that seems to be pulling me right into him.

“I’m cold. I need to get home. I have things to do today.” I fold my arms over my chest and begin rubbing them. This coat isn’t the warmest, and the chill is blowing right through the thin material.

He brushes my hands away and takes over warming me up with his huge, warm, masculine hands. My toes curl into my shoes.

I try to remind myself that I’m a loner. I don’t need or want a man in my life. I try, but with the way he’s looking at me and the heat his touch is creating, I’m not sure if I’m being so honest.

“I’ll take you home.” He opens the passenger door and offers me a hand to help me up.

“The bus is fine.” Distance. I need distance from him.

He lets out a hard breath through his nose. There’s a cloud from the cold air. The man looks more bull now than man. It only makes him more appealing.

“I don’t want to hear about the bus. I’ll take you home. End of story.” He cups my elbow and gently nudges me to the open door.

It could be another fifteen minutes before the next bus comes, and it’s not like Viktor is going to let me stand there myself. He’ll just stay with me and make everything more awkward. So fine, he can drive.

I climb up into the seat, pulling my jacket from beneath me and getting situated.

He grabs the seatbelt before I can, pulls it across my torso, leans over me, and snaps the belt in place. When he turns his head to look at me, there’s another chill going through me, and it has nothing to do with the weather.

“You know, I’ve lived just fine for the last twenty-two years without anyone bossing me around like this.”

“I don’t think that’s true, but I think you believe it.” He shuts the door before I can respond, so all I can do is seethe as he makes his way around the front of the car to his door.

As soon as he turns the car on, the radio blasts, making me jump.

He turns it down to a reasonable level and pulls away from the curb, seeming to be happy with silence between us.

I’m more than happy to not talk to him. He’ll probably just say something bossier than before, and I have bigger things to think about right now.

Like how I can get another two grand in two weeks.

“Just drop me here. You can’t pull in front of the building today. There’s maintenance going on.” I point to an empty spot at the corner.

“There’s a closer spot.” He continues to an open spot two doors down from my building.

“You don’t need to park.” I grab the door handle as he comes to a stop, but his hand on my knee stills me.

“I’m parking.” He moves his hand and parallel parks in one try.

I’m not a driver, but I’ve seen more than enough people try to navigate parallel parking on this narrow street to know it’s harder than he made it look.

“Happy?” I snap at him once he puts the car into park.

“Not yet. But soon.” He turns off the car.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m coming up with you. We haven’t finished our conversation.” He gets out before I can stop him.

I groan to myself and push my door open. He grabs it just as it swings over the curb and gives me a disapproving glare.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I want to.” He shuts the door and again presses his hand to my back, leading me right to the front door of my building.

I clench my teeth. The sooner I get upstairs, the sooner he’ll go. I make my way up the stairs to my apartment with him right on my heels.

“The new locks are working well, yes?” he asks as I push my key into the top deadbolt.

“Yes, but my landlord is pissed about it…”

He lifts a shoulder. “I’ll talk to him; he won’t bother you about it again.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Don’t. You’ll just scare him and the next thing that will happen is I’ll be out on the street.” I can barely afford the rent here right now; if I have to move, I’ll never be able to come up with the next payment.

He stares at me a beat. “I’ll be nice.”

I huff. “Nice. Something tells me you’re not a nice guy.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “I drove you home, didn’t I?”

“I said I didn’t want a ride.” I can be honest enough with myself that the warm car ride was better than waiting for the next bus but telling him that would only inflate his already ballooned ego.

“Maybe you just don’t know how to let people be nice to you.” He takes the key from me when I have trouble getting the second lock undone. It quickly turns for him, and he pushes the door to the apartment open. “See. Nice again.” He hands me the keys back.

I roll my eyes and walk inside, ready to close the door on him, but his hulking form is already through the doorway and inside my living room.

“Come in,” I say sarcastically and shut the door.

He abruptly turns to me.

“You’ve been robbed.” He pulls his gun out from his holster, beneath his leather jacket. “Wait here.” He looks to the tiny kitchen and the small hallway behind it that leads to the bathroom and bedroom.

“I haven’t been robbed. Put that thing away!” I press myself against the door.

He swings his gaze to me, then back to the spot where my television and speakers used to be.

“Where is your TV and the coffee table? And the chest you had in the corner, they’re gone.” He holsters his gun. “You had a computer there.” He points to where the coffee table used to be.

The laptop was nice, but I can do almost everything on my iPad, and I was able to get more money for the laptop.

I unwrap the scarf from around my neck and remove my coat.

“I’ve been decluttering.” I hang up my coat on the peg beside the door and lean my back against it. “It’s fine. Now. Thank you for the ride, but you should go.”

“You decluttered your furniture? And how do you know Jimmy Agosti?” He slides his jacket off his arms and drops it on the recliner.

It’s a small apartment, so the removal of the television does make it look emptier.

I was surprised the couple that moved into the apartment two floors up actually paid a couple hundred dollars for the coffee table. Now it’s just the couch that’s too old to be worth anything, the recliner and the TV tray I use to hold my iPad when I want to stream a movie.

Old memories flicker in my mind. The years after my father died, I was completely on my own. Not that having him around had ever been more than a person in the house, but after he was gone, I had nothing.

Being a minor at the time, I had a choice to make. Get taken to foster care for the year and a half until I turned eighteen or take off on my own before the government got involved.

I split.

And now, staring at my near empty apartment, I realize I’m almost right back where I started.

“Marlena.” Viktor moves to stand in front of me. “You have a lot to tell me.”

I don’t though.

None of this is his problem.

And it’s none of his business.

Even if he acts like he cares. I know the routine. He’ll stick around until he’s bored, or he finds someone else, or he realizes what a shit show I am and then he’ll be gone. And I’ll be alone again, sweeping up my hurt into a dustbin full of past broken hearts.

He’ll pretend to be a pillar of strength, but when the time comes for me to lean on him, he’ll be a ghost and I’ll fall right on my face.

No, thank you.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Viktor.” I slide my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

I need him to stop looking at me like this. Like he wants to help. Like he’s not going to budge until he’s found out what’s happening. Because the longer his eyes bore into me the harder it will be to keep up the walls.

“You like doing things the hard way, don’t you?” He hooks his hands on his hips. His thumb slides between his belt and his pants.

“Are you going to threaten me with your belt again?” I take a small step toward the kitchen. I might be able to get to my room and lock the door before he catches me.

Maybe.

“Tell me what’s going on. Why are you always looking at your phone? Why were you in that neighborhood today meeting with Jimmy? Why have you gotten rid of so many things?” The questions come one after the other and with each he takes a step toward me. I back away, and by the time he’s finished with his questions, I’m backed against the wall.

“I know you feel some sort of responsibility here because my friend is married to your cousin. But I assure you, you have none.” I swallow hard, trying to keep my heart from climbing up out of my chest.

I tried telling him this when he barged in to secure my locks months ago, but he didn’t listen then, either.

He presses one forearm against the wall, over my head, and uses the other hand to capture my face. His palm is warm against my cheek.

“I don’t feel any responsibility because of Izzy or Andrei. They have nothing to do with us.” His voice softens as he leans closer to me.

“There is no us, Viktor.” I manage to squeeze the words out.

“That’s where you’re wrong, moy sladkiy voin.” His mouth crashes down against mine.