War (Romanian Mob Chronicles Book 5) (10 page)

P
riest

F
or a while
, it seemed that Milan wouldn’t sleep. She lay there, eyes open, alert, but silent. I didn’t break that silence, and held her until she eventually fell asleep.

When she did, I pulled her close to me, finally giving in to the desire that had been present since the first moment I had seen her.

It was a poor choice, but today had been a string of them, and my judgment was off.

A fact that was confirmed when I thought about how I had not taken what she had offered. I had wanted her, shouldn’t have given taking her a second thought, but I had. Because I fucking cared.

I felt her awaken, and then quickly released her. She turned, looked at me, and though the room was shadowed I could clearly see her eyes.

She reached for my jaw, touched me questioningly, exploring.

I let her.

I shouldn’t have, but the restraint that had allowed me not to take her earlier was fading.

Because the hold she had over me had only intensified.

I had kept on my shirt and hadn’t rebuttoned it, and as she stroked her hands down my chest, then let her fingers linger at my waistband, I gave up the fight.

She kept her eyes on me as she opened my pants and I lifted my hips and let her pull them down.

I was still hard, had been since I’d pulled her into my arms. As she touched me, my eyes lowered, the feel of her small, soft palms against my shaft, her gentle touches giving way to stronger ones, sent my arousal higher.

She circled her finger around the crown of my cock, gathering the precum that had leaked from the tip and then coating my shaft with it. She repeated the action over and over until my shaft was slick. My lids dropped lower when she wrapped her fingers around me, moved up and down with increasing speed, her path smoothed by my fluids.

After a moment, I wrapped my fist around hers, squeezed tighter and moved her hand up and down me faster, the desperation to climax with her, even if it was only in this way, driving me.

When the first splash of cum spurted from my cock, I watched it rain down and land on her wrist. The sight of my seed on her skin was pure bliss, and once I saw it, I closed my eyes and let the climax take me.

M
ilan

I
had
no clue what had come over me, what had allowed me to touch him like that, and I didn’t really care to figure it out. It usually took me a while to warm up, be that open with a lover, but after today, I had been reminded that there was no time to waste, no room for shyness or reticence.

Because life could end in a moment, and I knew that if I didn’t acknowledge and pursue my desire for him, I would regret it.

In fact, I got even closer to him, snuggled against his chest, playing with the small buttons on his shirt.

It had been a very long time since I had been with someone like this. And never with anyone like him.

“Is Priest your real name?” I asked, strangely wired up but tired at the same time, so my defenses were far too low to keep the thoughts that popped into my head from leaving my mouth.

He said nothing, but looked at me.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry,” I said.

He shook his head, and then kissed me.

“It’s not that. You’re not prying. It’s just—I’m not entirely sure how to answer that question,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“What is my real name? What does that even mean?”

I frowned and rolled onto my side, locking eyes with him. “I think you’re misunderstanding me. I didn’t mean to get philosophical. I just wanted to know if Priest is what your mother calls you,” I said.

“Don’t know,” he replied.

My heart squeezed as I realized what he meant. I reached grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be. I didn’t know her and probably wouldn’t have cared to. But to answer your question as best I can, no, I was not always Priest. I was born Nikolai.”

“Nikolai,” I repeated, testing the sound on my tongue. “I like it.”

And I did. It fit him, was both serious and sensual, like the man himself. Priest fit, too, in a lot of ways. There was a rigidity, an almost monastic focus about him, but it didn’t feel like all of him.

“Nikolai,” I said again. “It fits you. That seems more like who you are.”

“You’re wrong, Milan. Whoever Nikolai was or whoever he might have been, he doesn’t exist now. There is only Priest. So, yes. Priest is my real name,” he said, his voice shifting, some of the steel returning.

“I disagree,” I said, not at all deterred by the change in his voice. “I think he’s still there.”

He looked at me, indulgent but unconvinced. Like he wanted to argue but didn’t quite have the heart to.

“So, Milan, is Milan your real name?” he asked.

He was trying to change the subject, and I decided to let him.

“Yes. My sister’s Venice. Was Venice,” I said.

Making that correction was one that always proved difficult for me. Still did, even after all these years.

“Was?” he said.

“Yeah. She was three years younger than me. She and my parents were in a car accident,” I said.

My chest squeezed again as I remembered those dark days, but I had made peace with the past and with their loss. I had loved them, and they me. I had also known they would want me to continue, to live the life that they would no longer have the chance to.

“So it’s just you, then?”

I nodded. “Well, there was Tiffany, but yeah, it’s just me,” I said.

That was a terrible thing to say, to know that I was completely alone in the world. It chilled me to my core. Without stopping to think, I moved closer to him, held him.

I was completely alone in the world now, but at least for a little while I had him.

P
riest

“
N
o
,” I said flatly.

As I spoke I continued to button my shirt, not pausing to even glance in her direction. She was looking at me, though. I felt her eyes on me and didn’t have to see them to know they were brimming with discontent, so different than they had been less than an hour ago.

Then, her eyes had been soft, drowsy, still cloudy with the climax I had coaxed from her with my tongue. Even now, I could taste her on my lips, feel the way her body had moved as I’d licked at her skin.

I’d wanted her to stay that way, wanted to stay with her that way, but that wasn’t an option. There was work to attend to, questions I needed to have answered, and they wouldn’t be answered here in bed with her, no matter how desirable staying was.

“Priest…” she replied, her voice a combination of plea and order that I would have found humorous in any other circumstance.

I finished buttoning my shirt and then tucked it in. Once I was satisfied, I turned to face her. “This isn’t a debate. You’re staying here,” I said, my voice steely.

If she noticed, she did nothing to show it, and instead she shook her head. “No way. No way.”

“Where I’m going, you can’t go.” Me saying even that was more concession than I wanted to give and took us far closer to the debate I’d just tried to shut down, but seeing the fear on her face had made it impossible for me to stay silent.

“Then you can’t go either. Because I’m not staying here by myself.”

“No one knows you here. You can relax,” I said.

“Or we could stay together and not have to worry about it,” she said.

“No. Not an option,” I said.

She continued to ignore me.

“It has to be, because I can’t stay here. I can’t stay here,” she said, her voice changing, the hint of franticness in it rising with each word.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, crossing the three steps that separated us and putting my hands on her shoulders.

She looked up at me with wide eyes that were as frantic as her voice. “What’s wrong? Someone came into my home and murdered my best friend, and now you want to leave me alone? You asked if I wanted what happened to her to happen to me. I don’t.”

“You’ll be fine here,” I said.

“What if I’m not?” came her reply.

Another fast retort might have convinced her. It might have also sent her over the edge. But that wasn’t why I held my tongue. I held it because I had no easy answer. As careful as I’d been, as much as I’d done to make this place safe, she was right.

There was no safe place and wouldn’t be until this was over.

But if she were with me…

I watched, silent, knowing that what I was going to do was foolish at best, but certain that they only way to be sure she was safe would be to keep her by my side, and even more certain that leaving her wasn’t an option. I’d thought it was, had decided doing so was the most strategically sound choice. Too bad strategy and smarts didn’t hold a fucking candle to the unknown but unrelenting impulse, no, imperative need to keep her within my sight.

Had I really thought it would be so easy to leave her? I had, and I’d been comically wrong.

“Speak to no one. Look at no one,” I said.

Her entire body sagged under the weight of her relief, and when she stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips against mine, I felt much the same thing. I hadn’t even considered bringing her, but now that I was, I knew it was the right thing, if only for the peace of mind of knowing she was okay.

After I put on my jacket, we went to the car and left the house. Milan was silent, seemed content, but my mind was abuzz.

I should have been thinking of what was to come next, but instead, I was preoccupied with thoughts of her. I couldn’t bring myself to regret touching her, nor could I deny how much I looked forward to taking her. But my desire aside, being with her added complications. Even now, my attention was divided, some devoted to remembering how her body felt against my hands, anticipating how it would feel again. Some devoted to examining what it meant that I was so quick to give in and bring her with me. Only a small part devoted to what was ahead.

I needed to get my head into the game and quickly. I tried to reason with myself, remind myself that this would be simple. I’d come, ask my questions, and go. Milan being here would change nothing. Easy.

That uncomfortably hollow assurance in my head, I stopped at Markov’s place. It was early evening, but the party was in full swing, probably hadn’t stopped, just the way Markov liked it.

I spared a single moment to consider what had brought me to the place where I was seeking his favor, his help. But only that single moment. My options were limited, and I wouldn’t let my pride get in the way of Milan’s safety. I grabbed her hand and pushed through the crowd, intent on Markov, who sat at the far corner.

Eyes were on me, and I had no doubt that everyone who had a reason to know was aware of my troubles. That uncomfortable walk reminded me of why I’d wanted Milan to stay back. I was as vulnerable as I’d ever been, and I had my doubts about whether respect for Markov would be enough to stay an unfriendly hand.

If it came to that, I’d handle it. But I hoped it wouldn’t.

When I finally reached Markov, he kept his eyes on his companions and only after he’d finished his drink did he finally look at me.

“Priest, my friend,” he said jovially as if he hadn’t seen me standing there.

I was unperturbed, though I knew he was doing his best to get some reaction from me. He’d be disappointed. I’d come here for any information that was to be had, and nothing, not even Markov, would keep me from getting it.

“Did you bring me a present?” he asked.

He kept his eyes on me, but I knew he was referencing Milan. I also knew that if he did look at her, he would get the reaction he was seeking. Further proof that this was a bad idea. I needed to keep my cool, but already, I was distracted.

“No,” I said. “We need to talk.”

Markov waited a moment, another, and then he stood. “Of course, my friend. Follow me,” he said.

I met Milan’s eyes, saw how valiantly she fought to keep the emotion out of them.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” I said.

She was on the verge of protest. I could see it in her eyes, but she said nothing, and instead put her most neutral expression on her face, though I could see the effort it took.

I wanted to comfort her, but didn’t, couldn’t let her importance to me be seen, so I followed Markov.

Leaving her was less than ideal, but I had no desire to push. Markov would push back just because he knew he could, and I wouldn’t let Milan get caught in that.

I also wouldn’t let Markov see me sweat, knowing that doing so might make him move anxious to press his advantage. I had no time for those games right now. So I would overlook Markov’s transgressions, but if he pushed too far…

I had a reputation to uphold, a life that I planned on resuming, and I would never let it be forgotten who I was. So I’d give Markov his moment and hope that it was enough.

Markov led me to the room where he conducted his most important business and then stood in front of me.

“Vasile thought I would be in for some trouble. Looks like it was you,” Markov said after he’d sat.

“Is that what you heard? That I’m in trouble?” I asked.

“One of the things. Heard that you arranged the shooting. I wasn’t there to see it myself,” he said, a moment’s irritation at not having been invited to the wedding crossing his face. “But still, I know it’s not true. I told everyone Priest wouldn’t do that sort of thing,” Markov said.

Lies, I knew, because he wouldn’t miss a chance to denigrate me, or anyone else for that matter. If anything, he had probably been key in spreading the rumor of my alleged involvement. And probably not out of particular malice, but Markov was who he was, and who he was was the type who would relish spreading that sort of salacious tale.

“I’m glad you know me better than to believe something like that,” I said, giving the expected response.

“You’ve been very good to me, and I have nothing but loyalty toward you,” Markov said. Then he smiled, the expression sharklike and insincere. “How can I help you, my friend?”

M
ilan

W
ith every second that passed
, I rethought my earlier vehemence. Maybe staying back wouldn’t have been such a bad idea. It would have been better than being here.

I was still where Priest had left me, only having moved about two inches to get as close to the wall as I could be. I was in the back, in what should have been a corner, but I had a prime location, one that allowed me to see everyone, and more importantly, everyone to see me.

And they did.

Every eye in the place was on me. Even the woman under one of the small tables giving the most uninspired blow job imaginable managed to look me up and down.

I was clearly the most exciting thing in this room.

Lucky me!
I said in my head, trying and failing to stop the smile that spread across my face, but quickly sending it away and again setting my face in what I hoped was a convincing don’t-fuck-with-me expression.

I probably looked like a mental patient, but who could tell with a crowd like this. This place definitely wasn’t the kind I’d venture to on my own, but I’d catered enough private parties to know how these things went, and to know when it was time for me to be elsewhere.

And right about now would be the time when I’d collect my money and go.

The vibe seemed good enough, but there was an undercurrent in the room, one I knew could turn ugly in a snap.

“You lost?” a woman asked.

I turned toward the voice on instinct and looked up to meet the gaze of a tall woman. She looked wary and curious, but most important, she seemed fully lucid, which wasn’t something I could say for many of the other faces I’d seen here. She was a couple of years younger than me, beautiful in a way I would envy if she didn’t look so damned sad.

“I’m fine,” I said.

She looked me up and down and shook her head. “You want to stay that way, get out of here. You shouldn’t be here,” she said.

She was gone before I could muster a response, swallowed in the crowd of bodies that filled the room. I kept my eyes on the spot she’d left long after she was gone, her words replaying in my head.

I wondered if she knew how right she was. I got the sense that she shouldn’t be here either, hell, I wasn’t sure anyone should. Even still, I knew, at least for me, the alternative was not an open.

Even now, the thought of him leaving me there, of me being alone, no protection, no transportation, no way of knowing if he was all right…I couldn’t deal with it.

So even as I grew ever more impatient as the seconds ticked by, even as I became ever more aware of the eyes on me, I knew there had been no alternative.

I fought to keep the freak-out that threatened at bay, then fought even harder when the two men to my left, ones who had been watching me the entire time, began to point at me.

He’d be out any moment, and then we’d get out of here.

I kept telling myself that over and over, looking around but not letting my eyes rest anywhere long enough to see or garner more attention.

He’ll be out soon. He’ll be out soon.

I just kept that thought in my head and ignored the others, the ones that asked how I knew he’d come back, asked what I’d do if he didn’t.

There was probably some elaborate set of rules he had to follow, ones that were prolonging this. But he knew what he was doing, and we would leave soon.

My eyes continued to move at the same pace as my rapid thoughts, some of the tension that had gripped my stomach loosening. But only briefly.

It came back full force and more when my eyes landed on the table the two men had been at.

The table that now sat empty.

“Are you alone?”

At the sound of the deep, gravelly voice, the tension intensified.

I didn’t turn and I didn’t answer, but I was acutely aware of the huge form looming beside me, the one standing next to him. My right side was unblocked, but I wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough to make an escape. Where would I run? Would Priest find me if I left?

I wasn’t willing to risk it, which meant I would have to bluff my way out of this.

“I’m with someone,” I said, only belated remembering Priest’s warning that I speak to no one.

Though my lungs squeezed tight and my voice wanted to tremble, I made the words come out forcefully and at the same time I lifted my eyes to meet the one who had spoken. I assumed he was the leader anyway, and if I could convince him to move on to greener, easier pastures, the other would be content to follow suit.

He was enormous, even more so than Priest.

That didn’t make much of a difference. He could have been half his size, and I doubt it would have helped much.

I’d taken a self-defense class at the community center, but if this got physical—and I prayed to God it didn’t—I would come out on the losing end, be gone before Priest returned, and none of the people here would likely lift a finger to help me.

“Looks like you’re alone to me,” he said.

“Looks can be deceiving,” I replied.

I regretted that instantly, but I couldn’t take the words back, so I waited, tension rising with each second.

The man closest to me grinned, something that surprised me. He didn’t strike me as the type to appreciate sarcasm, but his humor was apparent.

“That’s funny. Because you don’t look like a whore. But you’re here, so you must be. Or are your looks deceiving?” he asked, moving his face close enough that I felt his breath on my skin.

Fuck. Not only did he enjoy sarcasm, he had no respect for personal space.

I raised my hands in surrender.

“Look, I’m here with somebody. And, no, I’m not…available. You should find somebody who is. I’m just waiting.”

“How much?” he asked, skipping over my words as if I hadn’t even said them.