Anatolij glances at the house, his expression unreadable. “I’m visiting an old friend.”
“Nikolaj never mentioned that you know Jess.” Julij descends the concrete steps to shake his uncle’s hand.
“There are many things you don’t know about me, Julij.”
A train of thoughts pulls away from the station inside my head. I don’t have much information, but Anatolij paying Jess a visit leaves me all kinds of wary.
“Jess and I met when she worked as a waitress at Nikolaj’s restaurant,” he supplies, his pointed stare probably designed to speak volumes. Too bad I don’t know him enough to decipher the hidden meaning.
Questions multiply as abstract answers swirl in the depths of my mind, begging me to connect the dots. I’ve had a bad feeling about this guy from the start... looks like my suspicions were correct. His words don’t strike a chord, but I finally put my finger on where the strange, unwarranted familiarity has its roots—hiseyes.
Anatolij offers a tight-lipped smile, reading me like an open book. “I think we should talk.”
“What’s going on?” Julij glances between us, clearly unappeased not to be included in this weird non-verbal conversation we’re somehow sharing.
“This doesn’t concern you,” Anatolij clips, his steel, almost silver gaze trained on me. “Come see me at the hotel at eight.”
***
“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” I ask Layla once we’re on our way back home.
Anatolij’s cryptic, between-the-lines, half-assed fucking message and all the newly discovered yet unconfirmed information has me poised on edge. Possible explanations play in my head on repeat, summoning crazier scripts that were undoubtedly written by a drunk. What I’m making of this doesn’t make much sense...
The animalistic roar of the V8 floods the streets every time I accelerate, eager to get home fast. The clock is ticking. Layla’s desertion threw me back almost two hours—time I don’t have tonight.
“You like that about me,” she says, faking a cheeky smile.
She can’t fool me with that. Something bothers her, but I really don’t have the time to inquire.
“I do, but I like knowing you’re safe even more. Considering the situation, I also like to know where you are. And above all, I like when my peopledon’tcall to tell me you ran.”
Jackson was the one tasked with relaying the news. I’m sure he pulled the short straw. He had to repeat one sentence three times before I caught the words among a litany of fucks, assholes, and a whole lot more stuttering.
“So that’s the problem,” Layla huffs a forced laugh. “Were you worried that your future bride ran away? No need. You can’t get rid of me.”
“If we’re mixing feelings into this, then all I worried about was whether Julij confessed that he’s in love with you and decided that kidnapping you is a good idea.”
“In love? That’s silly. We’re friends.”
If I hadn’t already parked and turned toward her, I would’ve missed how she’s nervously tugging on the hem of her sweater.
How the hell did she lead me on while under Frank’s orders? She can’t lie. Even now, she can’t hide her emotions. She knows about Julij’s feelings. One question remains: did he tell her or show her?
Neither is acceptable, but the latter earns him a one-on-one with me, then with Jackson, and then an abrupt end of our business partnership. I may tolerate—barely— that he loves her, but if he tries to adore her, he’ll end up preparing Happy Meals for the rest of his fucking life. My jealousy is in no way linked to trust. If there’s one thing, I trust Layla one hundred percent with, her feelings for me are it. This is about rules. You don’t touch a man’s girl. Ever. Look all you want, but don’t fucking touch. Lack of respect for the rules is the worst flaw of a good accomplice.
“What did he do?”
“Hmm?” She turns to me. “Oh, um, nothing. He said and did nothing. He didn’t have to.”
She steps out of the car, signaling the end of the conversation. Maybe she needs time to process her newfound admirer, or maybe she knew all along but didn’t realize that so did I.
The passenger side window slides down before she takes three steps. “Can you please stay home now? Spades will be here with Nate, Cai, and five others until I get back. I’ll be late, so don’t wait up. You’ll be safe if you stay at home.”
She spins around, throwing me off my game with a pointed stare of those big, steel-gray eyes of hers, lips in a defiant pout. “How late is late?”
“Don’t expect me before eleven, but—”
“I know, I know. The gun is in the nightstand, the walk-in wardrobe is a bunker, and all the windows are bulletproof.”