Under the Skin (24 page)

At his desk, Patrick stared at his phone, trying to decipher Alexei’s message. He’d taken a chance, calling like he had. Alexei was rarely alone these days, much less free to talk, but the tip Patrick had overheard was too important to ignore. He had to warn Alexei, because the last thing he wanted was to come in to work tomorrow and hear the news that Alexei had been killed in the Colombians’ gang hit. He played his conversation with Alexei back over in his mind, trying to find any indication of an answer to his question. Then it hit him.
To
—two. Grabbing his jacket despite the heat, he headed out toward the meeting point, hoping he had understood and that he wouldn’t spend all afternoon drinking Starbucks coffee for nothing.

Alexei stopped by the Volkovs’ storefront to ask about the non-existent shipment, just in case Konstantin called to be sure he had been there. He could explain the time he spent with Patrick as trying to track down the deliverymen if asked. Telling the man behind the counter to call him if the shipment showed up, he headed toward the coffee shop he had passed on the way to Patrick’s apartment.  He spotted his lover at a table in the corner when he walked inside.

Patrick didn’t call Alexei’s name or do anything else to draw attention to himself when the Russian walked in. He’d seen Alexei’s eyes drift over him, seen the hint of a squint that was all the indication he was likely to get. He stayed where he was and waited as Alexei went through the motions of ordering a drink and fixing it at the coffee bar. Eventually, Alexei approached the table where he was sitting. “Is busy today. Is okay if I use empty chair?”

“Help yourself,” Patrick said, pushing the chair back with his foot. Alexei settled in, staring out the window and sipping his coffee as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

“The Colombians are fed up with Volkov invading their trade,” Patrick said softly, not looking up from his paper. “They intend to hit the electronics store tonight, and if they don’t find Konstantin there, rumor has it they’ll try to hit him at home. Don’t get yourself killed.”

Alexei didn’t turn from his perusal of the street outside. “Is bad business.” His eyes narrowed as he considered how he might use the information in his efforts to convince Konstantin to give up the risky venture into drugs. It was never easy to sway Konstantin from an idea he’d come up with himself. “But high stakes.”

“He can get himself killed for all I care,” Patrick muttered. “I only care what happens to you.” He looked up from his paper finally, examining Alexei’s stern profile. “What are you going to do?”

Shrugging a shoulder, Alexei sipped his coffee. “Keep Konstantin safe. Maybe this convince him is not just a game. Police will be watching?”

“Watching, yes, but they can’t do anything until the shooting starts,” Patrick said, “and by then it could be too late.”

“I keep him away from store and home,” Alexei answered.

“I don’t care what you do with him,” Patrick said, “as long as you keep yourself safe.” He warred with himself over letting Alexei go and trying to keep him close for a little bit longer. He feared what the night would bring. If this was to be the last time he saw Alexei alive…. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Is he expecting you back soon?”

“I have much experience keeping out of trouble.” Alexei tipped his head slightly, enough to let him see Patrick’s worried expression from the corner of his eye. He should head back to put this tip to use, try again to make Konstantin see what he was risking with his foray into the drug trade, but this new danger meant he would have to keep the younger
vor
in even closer sight. He didn’t know when he’d be able to slip free to make time with Patrick again, and though he cursed himself for a fool, he couldn’t just let Patrick walk away now. “And perhaps an hour before he miss me.”

An hour was hardly enough, but then a lifetime wouldn’t be enough. “You shouldn’t follow me too closely,” Patrick said, knowing the warning was unnecessary. Attempting a smile, Patrick added, “You do remember how to find it, don’t you?”

“Maybe you should leave trail of breadcrumbs,” Alexei answered, one corner of his lips twitching upward in response to Patrick’s smile.

His smile more natural now, Patrick stroked Alexei’s cheek with one long finger as he rose. They couldn’t risk being seen together, even now, because only Graves and Patrick’s captain knew about Alexei’s commitment to Interpol, and while Konstantin thought Alexei was paying Patrick to look the other way, that didn’t constitute an excuse for Alexei to come home with Patrick. Even knowing all that, he couldn’t resist acknowledging Alexei’s rare attempt at humor. “Don’t make me wait too long.”

Without lingering to see if Alexei would reply, Patrick left the coffee shop, heading down the street toward his loft with more of a spring in his step than he’d had in weeks. It might only be an hour, but he would take advantage of every second of it.

Giving Patrick a chance to walk ahead tested Alexei’s patience, and after a few more sips of coffee, he rose and tossed the cup away as he left the store. As his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, he caught a glimpse of a figure turning the corner onto Patrick’s street a block away. Even from the distance he could tell the man wasn’t Patrick, and his blood froze in his veins when he recognized who it was.

Konstantin.

Biting off a curse, Alexei started after them. Konstantin must have been suspicious and followed him. If he’d been standing across the street, he would have been able to watch them through the coffee shop windows. If Konstantin had seen Patrick’s parting touch, there was no way Alexei would be able to keep up the façade that he was simply paying Patrick off. Turning the corner onto Hoyne, he cursed again when he could not see any sign of Patrick or Konstantin.

P
ATRICK
whistled softly as he neared his apartment, thoughts of Alexei and the time to come lightening his heart. The sudden pressure of a gun against his back and an arm around his neck startled him out of his daydream. Silently he cursed his distraction as his attacker dragged him into an alley.

“You don’t learn, do you?” Konstantin snarled, jabbing the gun between Patrick’s ribs. “Keep away from Alexei. I tell you, but you don’t listen.”

“I’m just doing my job,” Patrick said, trying to keep his voice calm as he realized who had grabbed him. With the gun pressed where it was, he’d be in a world of hurt—if not dead on the spot—if it went off. He needed to keep Konstantin calm until he could find a way to disarm him. “And so is he.”

“His job to fuck you?” Konstantin’s head snapped up, and Patrick twisted just enough to see Alexei reach the alley, gun drawn. “Why you lie to me, Lyosha? Now I have to kill him.”

“Been enough killing, Kostya.” Alexei spread his hands though he didn’t lower the gun. He’d have one shot at best—he’d have to make it count. “You see what happen to your father for killing a cop. Don’t be stupid like he was.”

Patrick tensed, waiting for any sign that Konstantin’s focus on the gun had wavered. From all accounts, the Russian wasn’t much of a brawler. If Patrick could get the gun pointed safely elsewhere, he could take the other man down, but not until he was sure he could succeed.

“I am not stupid,” Konstantin shouted. “You pay attention to him instead of me. You belong to me, Lyosha.”

The intimate diminutive, which Alexei had never given Konstantin permission to use, betrayed how out of control the younger
vor
was, but Alexei was not about to protest when Patrick’s life hung in the balance. “I explained to you,” Alexei continued in a calm voice, though his blood was pounding through his veins. He took a step closer, all the while looking for a chance to bring Konstantin down. While the
vor
had his gun shoved into Patrick’s back, though, there was too much risk of Patrick being shot as well. Alexei would have to lure Konstantin’s attention to him instead. He’d take Konstantin’s bullet if it would keep Patrick safe. “I pay him off. He give me tip about hit tonight. Colombians don’t want competition, try to take you out. He warn me.”

“Then why he touch your cheek?” Konstantin demanded, moving the gun from Patrick’s back to his temple. “You don’t like to be touched so why you let him?”

Patrick tensed as the gun hit the side of his head. A world of hurt had just become a world of dead if the gun went off, but he could feel Konstantin’s agitation. A single slip was all he needed.

Alexei’s nerves tightened as Konstantin moved the gun to Patrick’s head. At least he could see the weapon now. The words almost didn’t register for a moment as he evaluated the situation, deciding it was still too risky to take a shot. “I do what I have to,” he answered finally, letting Konstantin read into that whatever he liked. That it was Konstantin’s touch he endured was not an answer that would do anything to improve Patrick’s chances.

“Lyosha,” Konstantin said, his voice nearly a whine. He started to reach for Alexei, giving Patrick the opening he needed. He slammed his head backward into Konstantin’s chin, grabbing for the gun and forcing it toward the sky as he did. Konstantin struggled, but as Patrick had suspected, the
vor
was no match for him. The gun fired wildly into the air, but Patrick ignored it, focused entirely on prising the weapon from Konstantin’s grip.

The struggle was the opening Alexei had been waiting for. While Konstantin’s gun pointed away from Patrick, he lined up his shot and fired, hitting Konstantin in the head. The
vor
staggered back a step and fell heavily to the ground, pulling Patrick on top of him.

The second shot and the Russian’s collapse caught Patrick off guard. As he pushed up to his knees, he nearly retched at sight of the shattered skull. Swallowing hard on the bile rising in his throat, he reached for his cell phone to call for backup, his training taking over in the wake of the fight for his life.

Alexei moved forward to help Patrick rise, his gaze raking over his lover to be sure none of the blood spattering him was Patrick’s own. Satisfied the detective was unhurt, he pulled him into his arms, one hand grasping Patrick’s wrist before he could pull the phone from his pocket. The other hand wove into Patrick’s hair, raising his head to Alexei’s for a desperate kiss.

Patrick clung to Alexei as if his life depended on it. The stray thought crossed his mind that after today, it did. His mouth opened beneath Alexei’s eagerly, needing the contact in the face of what had seemed certain death. Alexei’s tongue invaded his mouth, claiming him, settling his nerves even as it awoke his desire. He knew he had to call in the shooting, but he wanted nothing more than to whisk Alexei away to the safety of his apartment and not come out for days. “You saved me,” he said, breaking the kiss to meet Alexei’s eyes. “I’m sorry you had to choose between us. I know you… cared about him.”

“You save yourself,” Alexei insisted, resting his head against Patrick’s as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. “I do nothing but put you in danger from the start.”

“I think maybe we saved each other,” Patrick said softly. “I want to walk away and never look back, but I have to call this in. You shot him defending me. I’ll make that very clear.”

“I don’t want you involved.” Alexei lifted Patrick’s head, meeting the troubled eyes. “I take care of this. Trust me.”

“Of course I trust you, Lyosha,” Patrick protested, “but I’m a witness if nothing else. There’s no way not to involve me.”

Alexei wasn’t sure how the other
vory
would take Konstantin’s death—he suspected at least a few would be relieved to be rid of a volatile hothead, while others would see it as an opportunity to seize control of the lucrative Volkov interests. In any case, he did not want Patrick linked to the shooting in any way. “I deal with this,” he said again. “Turn around and walk away. We never met today; you were never in this alley.” He saw the opposition harden in Patrick’s expression and tightened his grip, pressing a soft kiss on Patrick’s lips. “I love you, Patya. Please. Trust me one more time.”

Patrick returned the kiss desperately. “I trust you,” he said when they broke apart, “and I love you too. Call me if you need me to back up your story. Promise me you’ll call, Lyosha. No matter what else happens, I have to know that you’re safe.” He could always keep an eye on the case file in homicide and intervene if Alexei was too stubborn to ask for help, but he hoped Alexei would bend.

“I promise.” Alexei kissed Patrick one more time, his tongue plundering his lover’s mouth, drawing in the strength he would need to sustain him. “I will be safe. Now go.”

Walking out of that alley was the hardest thing Patrick had done in his life, the truest test of trust he had ever undergone, but he swore he wouldn’t give Alexei reason to doubt him. Not now, not ever. He rounded the corner and made himself go home and take a shower to wash the blood off before returning to work.

In the silent alley, Alexei knelt beside the crumpled body and gently closed Konstantin’s eyelids, murmuring a quiet prayer. Then he rose to his feet, pocketed his gun, and pulled out his cell phone to place a call.

Chapter 18