Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
His repulsion is why I look up to him like a father. “I’m aware.” My heart squeezes when he murmurs, “Why do you think I’m here?” He strays his eyes around our elegant surroundings. “Did you agree to this?”
Not exactly, but I won’t tell him that. “Matvei has been good to me.”
“That isn’t what I asked, Nat.”
My chest deflates as I exhale, but when I recall how Matvei took care of me both last night in the shower and when I woke up coated in sweat, I admit, “I’m here because I want to be.”
Saka nods but remains quiet.
That is very unlike him.
“Do you get any feelings about him?” I laugh when his face screws up for the second time. “Not like that. What are your spidey senses telling you about him?”
I know why I am seeking Saka’s approval. Feelings are forming, and they’re scaring me shitless. It feels too fast, but since I don’t have any previous experience to compare it with, I’m lost on if this pace is normal. Some of the books I read are instalove, and I gobble them up like chocolate during red week. I love them, but that isn’t reality. I can’t let my guard down for the wrong person, but it feels like it is already nonexistent with Matvei.
My insides tap dance when Saka takes a moment to ponder my question before replying, “I don’t get any bad vibes from him. But…” I could have lived without his last word. “I often struggle when it comes to military men. They’re good at hiding their intentions.”
“You know he was in the military?”
“It’s pretty obvious. His walk, attention to detail, and—”
“Overprotective analness?”
I realize how tired he looks when he glares at me. His eyes are so puffy and dark they barely wrinkle when he narrows his gaze to shoot daggers at me. “But even if he didn’t harbor those traits, I’ve never forgotten any of my comrades.”
“He was in your regime?”
My mouth falls open when Saka jerks up his chin. “He arrived shortly before I shipped out.” His smile is unexpected. “He gave me the idea of taking my skills private.”
With his reply settling the nerves I struggled to ignore in the bathroom, I shift the focus from Matvei and me to him. “Is everything okay with Taylor?”
“She’s good.” His brows join. “A little rattled, but good.” He wets his lips before cracking them into a grin. “Still stubborn as ever.”
His eyes snap to mine when I mutter, “Good.” The curve of my lips matches his when I quote, “You don’t lose when you get knocked down. You lose when you don’t get back up.”
His smile is brighter than the midday sun beaming into the room. He was the first to share the quote with me, but he stole it from the king of getting back up when knocked down. “He was a brilliant man.”
“Muhammad or you?”
I laugh when he waggles his brows before I nudge my head to the kitchen. “As much as I’m loving our conversation, I’m starving.”
Saka shadows me into the kitchen before propping his shoulder on an overhead cabinet. “From what he said before he left, I doubt you’ll find much.”
“You’ve spoken to Matvei today?” It is irrational for me to be jealous when he jerks up his chin, so we will keep that between us. “Did he have anything interesting to share?”
I’m fishing for how well Matvei keeps secrets when it comes to his ex-military buddies, but play it cool by checking the expiration date on the milk in the refrigerator before popping a pod into the coffee machine. I like my coffee extra creamy. It is the only way for it to be consumed.
Saka waits for the enticing waft of caffeine to filter in the air before answering, “He’s never been a man of many words, but I got a few out of him.” He waits until the tension is palpable. “He mentioned a lead on the perp from last night.”
“Already?”
He tilts up his chin before forcing some droplets of milk to miss the almost filled mug. “But he hinted it may center more around you than Taylor.”
“What?” Hating the nerves in my tone, he swipes the mug out from beneath the machine and takes a massive sip of my perfectly blended brew, conscious my annoyance will always outrank my fear.
After hitting him with a nasty stink eye, I commence making a new mix while listening to his reply. “He believes the perp targeted Taylor’s room because yours was occupied.” His nose screws up like the coffee burned his tongue. Only I know his grimace is more in response to Matvei and me getting frisky than hot brew. “I asked for proof. He shrugged before requesting me to stay with you until he returns.”
This sucks to admit, but I’m hurt that he isn’t here of his own accord. He’ll never admit it, but I am reasonably sure he was the birdie whispering in my father’s ear that if I didn’t run I’d spend most of my adult years in jail. The police had my fingerprints on a recently fired gun, a matching bullet in Bastian’s chest, and gun powder residue on my hands. The evidence couldn’t have been more damning.