Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4) (2 page)

“Put that goddamn gun away!” Vasily whispered furiously in Russian.

But Alek wasn’t listening. Because Sacha had glanced over at the commotion and was now staring right into his eyes with an expression of such shock, such horror, all Alek could do was try to deny he was seeing it. It should be love and tenderness in those gold eyes. This was wrong. All wrong.

And then she was turning and rushing by the man at her back, who quickly and wordlessly followed her out with a concerned expression on his soon to be inanimate face.

Alek immediately went to follow, his heart feeling as if it were tearing in half, but he was stopped by a python wrapping his neck in a tight hold and jerking him back around the corner into a narrow hallway that led to the restrooms. He struggled like a madman for a few seconds until a solid fist to the gut had him doubling over. His pride was all that kept him from vomiting on his shoes. But that’s what came after a hit from six-and-a-half-feet of impudence wrapped in a package of tattooed malice. Maksim Kirov was one of their organizations most respected and valued. He was also their resident hacker and one of Alek’s best friends.

“Sorry for that, brother,” Maks said, clearly meaning it. Then he held up his phone.

Alek pulled in some air and looked at the face of the man who’d just left with Sacha.

“Facial recognition software is fun. I’ll tell you who he is and where we can find them in five minutes, then we’ll go get her together.”

Five minutes?
On top of the sixteen months he’d already waited to reclaim what was his? Fuck no!

Outwardly, he nodded, but the minute Maks let his guard down, Alek was shoving hard through the bodies in his way. A round of
Jesus Christs
followed him as he left the restaurant.

Moving at a smooth but steady pace down the sidewalk, he leisurely did up the button on his black Tom Ford, uncaring that he’d left his coat behind. Barely felt the frigid bite of the early December evening. He was concerned about only one thing.

Stopping her.

He’d waited too long for this moment, and not a damn thing was going to stand in his way of getting to the one he so badly needed. Not his uncle, or his best friends; not even the woman herself, whose gloved fingers had just closed around the door handle to a sleek black Mercedes.

“Sacha.”

The volume of his voice was low, but the warning carried on the still air. As he spoke her name, his blood sped through his veins, energizing him, bringing him out of the death sleep he’d been in since he’d last seen her.

“Do not open the door.”

Her back went rigid at his quiet order spoken in Russian, and remained that way when she turned her head. Their eyes met, and Alekzander’s chest filled as that connection immediately breathed life into the walking corpse he’d become. A rich gold in color, and tipped up just slightly at the outer corners, her eyes had never failed to draw him in. One shy glance and he was lost.

She let go of the handle just as he reached her.

And so it was on the sidewalk outside a small Chinese restaurant in lower Manhattan that Alek came face-to-face with his soulmate again for the first time in sixteen months. Sacha Urusski. The innocent girl whose heart he’d broken.

And it was there that he fell in love all over again. Fell with a shattering speed. He landed, broken and bleeding, which was a state he’d become too familiar with in the time they’d been apart.

He covetously took in the fair skin and the fragility of her jaw, and stared openly at the bow lips that were the softest he’d ever known. Her nose was dainty but was blessed with some character in the form of a graceful little bump on the slope that she’d always hated. He loved it. Her lush sable hair with its gold highlights had grown and now fell past her shoulders in loose, wanton waves.

They stared through the cloud their exhalations produced in the cold air between them. Neither said a word. But then, that had been their way. Words hadn’t always been necessary.

They’d met over two years ago when he and one of his friends had gone to a small diner after having attended a funeral. Sacha had been his and Gabriel’s waitress. Alek had taken one look at the angel—literally, as it had been the end of October and she’d been in wings and a halo for Halloween—and he’d known. Known without a doubt that she would be his. The rush of it at that moment had been so spectacular he’d refused the very idea of leaving that grungy little place without her. And he hadn’t.

Fast forward eleven months to a heinous week spent deep in the family business. The dark week where his cousin’s wife and son had been taken by a rival family. Renee and Evan had been snatched from a local soccer field in broad daylight, and even though the organization had swiftly put together a search and rescue, it had been too late. Mother and son were sent back to Sergei, brutalized, unrecognizable. Alek’s control had fled, his emotions taking over. He’d followed through on an impulsive, fear-driven plan to get Sacha away from even the possibility of something so inhumane and vicious happening to her. His means, though cruel, had been successful; he’d annihilated their relationship with one solid blow. He’d given up his life, to ensure she was able to live hers.

It looked as if that’s exactly what she’d been doing. He could see her date in his periphery, looking over the roof of the car with interest while Alek looked at Sacha with wonder and she looked at Alek with apprehension.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave.” Alek kept the conversation between him and Sacha by sticking to Russian. He wanted to vindicate himself with the truth right then, to convey his mountainous regret without the million words it would take, but he had to content himself with offering his hand, palm up. “I’ve been—”

“Alek.”

Dying without you
, he finished silently when his uncle’s voice came from behind him. He briefly considered ignoring it. But couldn’t. His respect for this man was too great. Plus, when that note of warning came from the Pakhan of a powerful Russian crime organization, family or not, you gave it the deference it deserved.

Alek slowly flipped his hand into a stay-put position. He didn’t close the distance so he could latch onto her wrist—or slip his arm around her waist and bury his face in her neck. He simply warned her she wasn’t to move. Then he shifted his attention.

Vasily Tarasov stood beneath the street light, a low-key buzz of power emanating from him. His constant shadow, Dmitri Zolin, hovered a few feet away.

“I will not allow her to get away from me again,” Alek said because it was as simple as that. He didn’t miss the quiet sound that came from Sacha. Caused by his vow or because the other part of the human barrier that had tried to prevent him from coming out here had just sauntered out of the shadows.

Vasily came forward. “Sacha.” His greeting was warm. “How are you? I hope you can forgive our intrusion into your evening.” When he put his hand out, she didn’t hesitate to take it. She went up on her toes and lit small fires of jealousy along Alek’s nerve endings when she kissed his uncle’s cheeks. The tattooed hand that rested briefly on her head was the same gentle touch Vasily used with his daughter. Eva and Sacha were around the same age. Sacha would be twenty-five next month. Alek had met her when she was a young, demure twenty-two.

“It appears it was us who interrupted you,” she murmured. “We will get out of your way.”

Awareness roved Alek’s spine at the sound of her voice. Her Russian accent was still pronounced and damned beautiful. He wanted everyone gone so he could concentrate on it, on her.

“You’re not the one in the way here,” he said, holding the eyes of the man leisurely coming around from the driver’s side of the Mercedes.

As he drew up next to Sacha, all those instincts that had appeared the moment Alek had met this woman roared to the surface again. The primitive urges were stronger than they’d ever been. That irrational, blinding jealousy invaded. Overwhelmed. He clenched his fists…and then felt his lip curve because he could have sworn he already felt the warmth of his new enemy’s blood dripping off his hands.

The dead man wore an expensive coat similar to the one Alek had left behind in the restaurant. His hair was dark, he had a strong jaw, and his discerning stare was even with Alek’s, putting him around six-feet-two.

“Alek Tarasov.” He sounded calm as he introduced himself. He wasn’t. This woman belonged to
him
, and this piece of shit was trespassing to a degree that could only result in death. This man’s hands had touched her only moments ago. He’d put his lips on her. There would be hell to pay for that.

“No. That is not necessary. We should go…” Sacha had grasped her date’s arm in an effort to stop him from shaking Alek’s hand. The warning was politely ignored.

“Justin Sheppard.”

Good to meet you, Justin Sheppard. Remember my face, because I’m coming for you.

A quiet ticking started up, and Alek’s tension eased slightly because the sound meant Maks was on it. Sacha also heard the inputting of her date’s name into Maks’s phone and a small knot appeared in her jaw as if she was grinding her teeth. Could she remember the way of things? And if so, was she worried Maks would have the boyfriend’s story within moments?

“If you and Sacha would like to return to the restaurant,” Vasily said. “Our party was just finishing up.”

Sacha shook her head before Sheppard could respond. “Thank you, but we should be going.”

“No.” Rather than drive his fist through another man’s sternum to rip out his still beating heart, Alek rudely gave everyone but Sacha his back. He placed his hands on the car’s roof, boxing her in. She pressed back, as though she didn’t want to come into contact with him. Understandable. The last time she’d seen him, he’d had his hands full of a woman that wasn’t her.

He excluded Sheppard completely by reverting to Russian once more. “I would appreciate a few minutes of your time. We could talk in the car.
Vasily’s
car,” he specified with a dismissive look at the Mercedes. “Or, if you prefer something more public, we can go into the restaurant. But whichever you choose, it’s time to send him on his way. I’ll make sure you get home.” Preferably their home.

A new tension began crackling in the time it took for her to raise her incredulous stare. The vulnerability surrounding her disappeared and she made a small sound of amusement that wasn’t reflected in her expression.

“Just like that, Alekzander?” She spoke quietly enough so only he would hear. “Your arrogance is astounding if it allows you to believe there would be any point to us sitting down together, no matter the location.” Even exuding such disdain, he’d never seen a woman so fucking beautiful.

“You’re probably right,” he admitted without paying attention to the disappointment tinged with hurt that swiftly moved through him. “Though it doesn’t change the fact that I would like some time with you.”

Apathy stared at him. Hmm. It appeared their time apart had changed more than him.

A slight movement had his gaze falling, and he watched her throat work through a swallow. The urge to scrape his teeth over the silky skin came out of nowhere. “I don’t know how the hell you came to be here tonight, Sacha, but if you think I’m going to let this opportunity go without taking full advantage, then you’ve forgotten who I am.”

“No. And there lies the problem; I have forgotten nothing.”

Shut down. He dropped his arms and retreated. He remembered that tone and knew he wouldn’t get her cooperation this night. Not even if he told her how much he’d missed her. How much he’d missed her smile, the scent of her skin.

I miss the feeling of home you instill so deep in my soul it’s as if I’ve lived with it forever when I know damn well I haven’t.

No. Even then she wouldn’t hear him tonight. While he’d been begging the fates for this opportunity, it looked as if she’d been begging for the opposite.

Again, he understood.

And that meant he was going to have to demonstrate some patience after all by allowing her to leave him. Maks must have Sheppard’s info by now. If not, Alek would get the plates on the Benz and they’d hack OnStar. Bingo. He’d have Sacha’s addy and could work his ass off to be with his woman just like every other guy did. He hadn’t had to do that the first time around, and it would be no hardship for him to do so this time.

Despite what he would consider minor roadblocks, a feeling he’d forgotten existed was settling in. Peace. He’d found her. She was safe. She was unharmed. And she was with him again. That was everything.

He took another step back and even managed a small smile. “I understand,” he said, inclining his head as if in defeat. But before he could prove how gracious he planned on being about the whole thing by opening the car door for her, she made a fatal error.

Alek watched as if in slow motion Sacha move that stunning hourglass figure over and press what was his into Sheppard’s side. After the slightest hesitation, her date encircled his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in.

When Alek’s gaze clashed with gold, there was no denying the expression staring back at him. It was the clearest
fuck-you
he’d ever seen.

Vasily and Maks came forward at the same time to wedge themselves between Alek and the blasphemous display they’d all just witnessed.