The Perfect Stroke (59 page)

“Roman, you didn’t use condoms,” Ana says.

I’ve pulled us up vertical on the bed, but that is as much as I’ve managed. Fuck, I still have my pants on, though admittedly they are gathered about mid-thigh. Ana is on my shoulder, her back to me.

“We haven’t been using those since the day on your balcony, pet. Kind of late to worry about it now.”

“A baby would be a big mistake right now.”

I’ve been actively trying to get her pregnant and I can’t even put into words how much I disagree with her. In compromise, I don’t comment. I kiss the mark I left on her shoulder and change the subject. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Ana? What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just been a long day, Roman, and I…”

“What?” I ask, something in her tone alerting me to the fact that I’m not going to like her next words.

“Roman? Do you know where my brother is?”

My body goes completely still. How did I not see this coming? Motherfucker, Banks had enough time with her to fuck shit up after all.

“Why do you ask me that, Ana?”

“‘Why’ doesn’t matter, Roman. I’m asking you to tell me the truth. Are you the one responsible for my brother missing?”

“The ‘why’
does
matter, Ana. I’m asking you to tell me where you heard it and I want to know now.”

She takes a deep breath, so deep I can see it move through her body, and then exhales with a whoosh as she moves to her back. Her eyes find mine and there’s something in those violet depths I’ve not seen before and it worries me.

“The DEA have a file on you, Roman. They suspect you are working with the Russian Drug Cartel. They have photos of my brother in your club the night he disappeared talking to a man they identify as one of your security men. So, I’m asking you, Roman. Do you have my brother, or worse, did you have him killed?”

She asks me these questions while pulling away and sitting up. Anger drums in my veins along with a healthy dose of fear. I haven’t felt that emotion in a very long time, but I feel it now. I can’t let go of Ana. I will not lose her. Not now.

I growl, getting out of bed and pulling my pants up and securing the button to hold them in place. “Did Banks give you all that info?” Her head goes down and I don’t like that shit at all. She will not hide from me. “Ana. Eyes, now.” She slowly raises her head to me and the tears in them is enough to almost completely undo me.

“Is it true, Roman? Do you have my brother? Is he… dead?”

I could lie. The inclination is to do that. Ana would never know and I’d make damn sure that Banks never got near her again to talk to her. That might have been the wisest plan of action. It’s also the one that would allow her to escape me. I can’t allow that. I’m not letting her go.

So I revert back to what my original plan was all along, the plan my stupid brain concocted after I first saw that picture of Ana. Use her brother to gain what I want:
her
. The only thing that has changed is that the stakes are higher now. I don’t want her in my bed for a week or two. I want her there forever.

“I have your brother, Ana.”

Her gasp fills the room and genuine shock fills her face. She grabs the sheet, pulling it over her body. That one simple movement speaks volumes and it pisses me off.

I rip the sheet from her, throwing it to the floor. “You don’t get to do that, Ana. You don’t get to cover your body from me. Whatever else is going on, you gave yourself to me. You don’t get to take that back.”

“You lied to me, Roman! I asked you for help in finding my brother! If I mattered at all to you, you would have been honest with me.”

“What would I have said, Ana? Your brother was selling drugs in my club and pissing off the wrong people and jeopardizing my business. He had to be handled.”

“Was he? Oh, God… Did you kill Allen? Answer me, Roman!”

“No, Ana. I didn’t kill him. I was going to, but then I saw a picture of this new dancer that had been asking questions to the wrong people…”

“Oh my God.”

“And I decided I wanted her. So he’s still breathing, pet. Rest easy.”

“
Who are you?
”

“The man you just begged to fuck you. That same exact man.”

“Everything they said is true. You are a monster.”

I can’t hear this shit from Ana. I’m used to being judged and I don’t give a fuck, but I can’t hear it from her.

“Think what you want to, pet, but you’re still mine and you’re not fucking going anywhere.”

She gets up from the bed, finding the sheet I threw down and wrapping herself up in it again. Her eyes are spitting fire at me.

I must, in fact, be the monster she accuses me of, because I am hard as a rock.

“You can’t keep me here against my will, Roman. If I want to leave, I will.”

“Feel free, pet. But if you walk out of that fucking door, then I’ll have no reason to keep your brother breathing.”

It’s a low blow and sounds so much worse now than it did when I originally came up with the idea, but I’m not about to back down, even when she pales and looks at me with nothing but hate.

“How can you do this?” she asks, tears slowly falling from her eyes.

“You can have the rest of the night to make up your mind, Ana.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“Out, but never fear, pet. As long as you’re in this house, your brother is safe,” I tell her, turning away from her.

Fuck. This was not how I planned my evening out. It gives me one more reason to kill Paul Banks. That shit will be put into action tonight.

I handled that badly. Fuck. I know I did, but I was blindsided and pissed that she was trying to hide from me. The trouble with being gone on a woman is you react with your dick and not your brain. If I handled my business like this, I’d be broke. 

“You look like you lost your best friend. Want me to buy you a beer to cry in?”

“Fuck you,” I tell him, not looking up from my whiskey.  “You’re traveling late, Marcum.”

“I got a call from this bastard in Miami. Sounded serious, so I thought I’d come see him.”

“Dangerous, in your line of work.”

“Life’s fucking boring without a little danger,” Marcum says. I turn to look at him. He hasn’t changed much. A little gray around the edges, a few more scars, He’s got long hair that he has pulled back in a clasp at the back of his neck right now. He’s wearing jeans, his leather club cut, and cowboy boots. I respect the man. We might be different as night and day on the outside, but on the inside where it counts, we could be fucking twins.

“How’s the fifteen kids?” I ask him, and he gives me the one finger salute. If you can say anything about Marcum, it’s that he’s a fertile son of a bitch. He has so many kids, he could populate a small country with nothing but his offspring.

“Eight, asshole. And not bad. Even got a grandkid now. Max’s woman Tess had a little girl. Prettiest little thing you’ve ever seen.”

“Hard to picture you as a grandfather,” I tell him honestly.

“I’m fucking awesome at it. Hell, should have tried it sooner. Lot easier than your own kids, that’s for fuck sure.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I tell him, taking a drink of my whiskey.

“That job you wanted, that’s not going to be easy, asshole. That fucker has connections,” Marcum says, switching to business quickly, which is just as well since I’m not really in the fucking mood for small talk.

“I’m not paying for easy. While we’re on the subject, I have another problem that needs to be dealt with.”

“Jesus, you’re a needy fucker all at once. What brought on all this shit?”

“A woman,” I growl, pouring more whiskey into my glass.

“Say no more. Jesus, brother. Shouldn’t you have learned from my mistakes?”

“She’s a good one, Marcum. She just comes with a fucking load of baggage.”

“Don’t they all,” he sighs.

“Trouble with Cherry?” I ask him, mentioning his latest squeeze. He’s kept this one the longest and she seems to care about him, but then what the fuck do I know about anything.

“Cherry left.”

“What the fuck for?”

“Now that’s the question. Unfortunately, it’s a question I have no fucking answer for.”

“Life would be fucking simpler if you could just keep them tied to the bed all the time,” I growl, draining the last of my drink.

Marcum stands up and slaps me on the back with a laugh. “Amen, brother. Amen. I got your order in. Get Bruno to send me the particulars on your add-on.”

“Will do. Where you headed?”

“Anywhere my dick takes me, brother. Anywhere my dick takes me.”

I shake my head and let him go. I’d like to think he’s a miserable fuck, but the truth is, I’m being led by my dick too, and at least Marcum’s will have a warm place to spend the night. Thoughts of Ana in our room covering her body from me with tears running down her face flash through my head.

Fuck. 

I pull myself out of bed. I think I’m still in shock and I didn’t sleep at all last night. Mostly, I lay in bed reliving the confrontation with Roman. I thought I was prepared. I mean the DEA doesn’t send you undercover for nothing. I knew all along there was a chance that Roman did in fact have Allen, but after meeting him and the way we became with each other, it just didn’t seem to fit. How can someone be so good to you, be sweet and loving, and all the while be holding your brother to use against you—or worse, holding him to kill him? What does it say about me that I slept with this man?