Saved by the Outlaw: Motorcycle Club / Hitman Romance (31 page)

I pant for breath as he walks to the bathroom, returning a second later with a soothing, warm wash cloth. His face is flushed, his smile deadly, as he presses the cloth against my battered sex.

He cups my pussy, and the warm soothing cloth stems the flow of his creamy seed as it drools from my puffy slit. And in this moment, he’s proving that while he can be a total prick, he cares about me. Even dotes on me.

“That was more like it,” he says with a wry smile, leaning in and placing a tender kiss upon my temple, then gingerly brushing away the few stray strands of hair glued to my forehead with perspiration.

I smile as I relax, his tender touches easing me down from the earlier high. It’s in this moment, when he looks at me with such affection, that I really start wondering if I’ve gotten in over my head.

Not because he’s dangerous. Not because he’s potentially in the Russian mafia.

It’s because I might actually be totally and utterly in love with him.

I
’m not proud
of what I did. I’m really not.

But I put a tracker on Dimitri’s phone. He’ll kill me if he finds out, I just know it, but I’m taking that risk because he insists on driving me to the charity ball. He’s likely figured that I’d try to find some way around this, and he’s right.

He leans in to kiss me as we sit in his car outside the manor. I’m expecting a chaste peck on the cheek, but instead I get intense passion, his mouth on mine, his hand cupping my cheek.

“Don’t get in over your head, Sarah. Just relax, enjoy the night, and try to find some information we can make use of.”

“I know. I’ll be fine, Dimitri. No one’s going to try anything at a charity event.”

He looks towards the large building that looks more like a museum than a home and gives his nod of approval.

“You’re welcome to come back to my place, but I likely won’t be home tonight,” he says.

He must see that it rankles me, and his fingers caress the spot behind my ear that he found during one of our trysts.

“Don’t worry. I’ve handled worse than what I will tonight. I promise,” he says.

I nod, but I know that as soon as I go in there, say hello to a few people, and make an appearance, I’ll have done my duty well enough to sneak off for the night. Especially if I can find someone to say something upsetting to me.

Not my proudest hour, but they never said it’d be easy trying to peek into the seedy underbelly of Brooklyn.

I don’t know what he’s planning, not really, but if he’s going to be out all night, there’s always going to be a risk of something really awful happening.

That’s why I put the tracker on his phone. Not just so that I can spy, and try to find out what’s really happening, but that I need to keep an eye on him. He told me before that if
they
knew I was spying, that I’d be killed without a second thought.

Yet I’m doing it again.

“Will you call me to let me know everything’s okay?” I ask.

He shakes his head, though, and his dark eyes stare into mine.

“I won’t have reception. And you need to not worry about me,” he says.

“Tough luck there, Dimitri,” I say with an exasperated sigh, getting out of the vehicle and slamming the door closed. Of course, the passenger side window is still rolled down from earlier, so lot of good that does me for having the last word in our argument.

“Just have fun tonight, Sarah. Loosen up, have some drinks, get a cab home safe,” he says, and then his eyes drop down, over my fancy new outfit.

The one he’d defiled me in earlier.

“I wish I could come with you, show you off to all those pompous assholes,” he says with a bit of lightness to his tone.

I roll my eyes, folding my arms beneath my chest.

“Nothing’s stopping you, especially since you think someone in here might know who murdered your mother. That’s why you’ve stuck me on this job, right? You figured I’d use my detective skills to schmooze with people I hated when my dad was still alive?”

“Sarah,” he sighs, defeat weighing heavy on his shoulders. “Let’s not get into this. Go. Once we are through this night, we will talk about...”

He trails off, and I can tell by his expression that I’m not getting anything more out of him.

“Fine, Dimitri. Go. Don’t do anything stupid.”

He grins at me, but drives off without making a promise. Not a good sign.

I sigh and turn towards the mansion. I hate this stuff, I always have. I know that the rich kids always have a bad rap of being spoiled, and maybe once upon a time I was, but being homeless and struggling?

That knocked me out of that real fast. I grew up more in those few days on the streets and the couple of years struggling just to eat than I care to think about, and I like who it made me. I’m harder now. Stronger. More independent.

Not independent enough that you refused Rebecca’s offer for financial security
, I chide myself.

And with that morose thought, I head into the party.

For all my misery in having to go to this event instead of where the real action was, I have to admit that walking into a party in thousands of dollars’ worth of fine clothing is a boost to my ego. Not much of one, but at least I only feel out of place rather than looking out of place.

I smile pleasantly at the greeters before looking around at the large foyer ahead of me. Beautiful marble flooring and a staircase that likely cost more than the house I’m renting the basement of. Lights twinkle, the chandelier sending rainbows about the ceiling and floor.

It’s still quiet, but I make my way into the ballroom. Classical music played by a live band soothes my ears, relaxing the tension in my shoulders as I slowly start to unwind. Going to an event without a friend or acquaintance is akin to torture, I’m certain.

But when Mr. O’Reilly touches my bare arm and his ruddy face lights up, I know this is even worse. He used to be a business partner of my father, one that my dad never fully trusted and was always certain he was skimming off the top.

Dad couldn’t prove anything, but I trusted my dad’s business instincts if nothing else.

“Sarah! I thought that was you. Oh my, it’s been four... no, five years now, hasn’t it? You were only sixteen then, I remember you had your party.”

I smile tightly, looking down at the stubby, unpleasant man.

“Must be about that, then.”

“You’ve grown, haven’t you!”

I’m barely aware of the rest of the conversation as he drones on with niceties, and condolences for Rebecca’s death. He’s the drabbest, dullest person and when I spot Samantha out of the corner of my eyes, I’m only too excited to excuse myself and go towards her.

Sam is the daughter of one of Rebecca’s friends, and while she and I never had a lot in common, she has the biggest mouth of anyone I knew.

Two birds, one stone.

“Sarah!” she says with a big, fake smile, her lanky arms wrapping around me as she pulls me into an embrace. “You look so much older with that hair, I barely recognized you! And you’ve put on a few pounds too, haven’t you?” she asks as if that were the most normal of things to say.

My self-esteem now perched on a craggy cliff, I give her my best fake smile.

“You look great.” Unfortunately, I mean it. She’s always been supermodel material, and in her expensive gown, even more so.

“Thank you, thank you. Jerome, my personal trainer, is just a
God
, seriously. You should look him up. I mean, he is g-a-y, but who isn’t these days?” She bats her impossibly long lashes, glancing towards the bar. I’m not sure if she’s hunting for fresh meat or looking for someone she knows, and before I can ask, she picks up again.

“So I heard you were, like, totally kicked out a couple years ago, huh? That must’ve sucked, especially with Rebecca taking all of daddy’s money. Though I guess since you’re here, things were smoothed out before she died?”

She’s talking about me being kicked out and Rebecca being dead like some people talk about the weather: completely indifferent small talk.

“Yea, I guess. She contacted me a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, yea, you must be turning twenty-one soon, huh? Gotta make arrangements for that trust!” Her red mouth warps into an excited smile as she wiggles her fingers to someone behind me.

“Trust?”

“Duh, your trust fund. God, Rebecca was always complaining to my sister about that, about how she was looking for a way around paying out. I guess that’s why she kicked you out, thinking maybe if you were estranged, she’d figure something out.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Samantha’s acting as if this is no big deal, but I had no idea my father had put aside any money for me.

“Did she ever say how much?”

“Oh, you know I don’t like to gossip, Rebecca.”

Her blue eyes sparkle and I know I’m losing her interest. She’s already spotted someone else.

“Oh come on, I’m going to get it soon anyways. Why not spoil the surprise?” I say with a curve to my lips that I hope makes me look sly. Like we’re in on a secret together.

Samantha giggles and I have her hooked.

“Oh well, when you put it like that, when your father died he was worth $1.1 billion. Didn’t you ever google him? He was all over the lists. Since Rebecca’s expanded her own enterprise, I’d say both you and your brother are in for quite a good time. Especially if those rumors about her connections are true.”

I’m in shock. I knew my dad had a lot of money, but I didn’t figure it was that much. He’d always been fairly low profile about his earnings.

“Hello? Earth to Sarah.”

I shake my head to clear me of the stupor.

“How’s Dimitri anyways? Still yummy as always?”

“I gotta go.” I turn instantly, and head for the door. I need some air.

“Wow, rude,” Samantha mutters behind me, and I brush past Mr. O’Reilly on the way out.

The night air has a slight hint of fall in it, and I’m grateful for how it cleanses my lungs. I gulp it in, my head feeling light, my stomach clenched. I go over the conversation in my head, over and over.

Is that why Rebecca was offering me that money? Was she trying to buy me off? She offered me half a million dollars which was unbelievable, but if dad had left me a trust fund with more than that...

My mind goes back to the contract that Rebecca had me sign when I accepted the job. One of the lines was legalese, telling me I had no right to sue for any other money in the future. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but now?

I feel like I’m going to be sick.

But wait, what did Samantha say? The rumors of Rebecca’s connections?

Did she mean... mob connections?

I whip my phone out of my purse, looking at the time. It’s already after ten. I call up the app to track Dimitri. He said that there’d be no cell reception where he was going, but at least I’ll get the place where he last had reception.

I call for a cab. I should go home and change, but the last hit on the cell tower was already half an hour ago. Whatever Dimitri had in mind, it is already in progress.

“Where ya headin’?” asked the cabby as I slide into the backseat.

“I need to make a quick stop at Pacific Street, then 35th Street and 2nd Ave., Brooklyn. I’ll tip for your time.”

“Sure, doll,” he says, pulling out of the building and heading me towards my home. I know I’m running out of time, but I’ll be no help to anyone without changing my outfit, and grabbing my camera.

And my gun.

I
get
out at the intersection, paying the driver before looking down the dark street. Cars that look partially abandoned litter the area, bars on all of the windows. Suddenly I don’t feel so confident, and I pull my black hoodie a little tighter around my head.

This is the area that Dimitri was last in, so he must be in one of these buildings.

But what one?

There’s an alarm going off at the end of the road, the wailing of the car alarm echoing off the high buildings and adding to my uncertainty. Maybe I should just go home, and listen to Dimitri for once. Maybe I really don’t want to be here, and see what it is my lover’s doing in this shady place.

I suck in a deep breath of air, walking slowly and looking for anything that might lead me to where Dimitri is.

I don’t see his car, and I keep to the side of the buildings, trying not to draw any attention to myself, even as my heart pounds in my chest. I’ve gone from my biggest stress being filing season to stalking my brother.

It didn’t even seem like a long fall.

No street lamps line the road, and I can barely make anything out. I slump against the wall, considering what to do next. I can’t just barge into any of these buildings, looking for Dimitri. It’s useless.

I make my way back towards the marine terminal and the flickering, yellow light, when the alarm behind me stops. I can suddenly hear my own steps on the sidewalk, but worse than that, I hear someone else’s. I can’t see them, even when I glance around, and my pace quickens.

Dimitri warned me they’d kill me if they found out I was spying before, and if they catch me here, in the middle of the night...

Panic grips my chest, and I’m practically running down the side street, but the heavier steps behind me quicken to match my pace. And then faster. He’s not far behind me, those thick thuds getting closer and closer.

I nearly run into a platform, lifted off the ground by a couple of feet, used by trucks for unloading material. My fingers grip it, and I find, blissfully, it’s not solid. I have no idea what’s beneath it, but I duck under in a crouch, hoping to throw whoever else was in the alley off my scent.

I hold my breath as I hear the footsteps near me at a jog. My heart is pumping so loud I’m afraid it might draw attention, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m so near to the main road, to the lights of the marine terminal, but I’m still submerged in darkness within my little hiding space.

The footsteps pass me, and I let out a brief sigh of relief. But then, for just a split second, he turns and I get a glimpse of who it is. A face I’ve forever remembered, and longed to forget.

It’s Anton. The same man my brother beat up all those years ago. The man that Dimitri threatened to do terrible things to after he snitched on Dimitri’s boss.

My stomach sinks. If Anton’s free... what does that mean for Dimitri?

He glances around, and I hold my breath again, tears stinging my eyes but I quickly squeeze them away. I don’t have time to get emotional about it, not if Dimitri’s in trouble. I wait and watch, my legs burning from my awkward squatting position but I’m too afraid to shift and draw attention to myself.

My hand goes to my purse, grabbing my gun lightly in my hand, just in case.

Thank God there’s no need.

He continues walking, back into the inky darkness of the alleyway. I watch him until he’s far enough away from me before I move from my hiding place. My legs feel so good stretched out after being so cramped, but I don’t have time to enjoy the sensation. Instead, I follow Anton into the dark.

I’m quieter this time, now that I know someone else is here, and even though he looks over his shoulder a few times, he never spots me. Slowly, slowly I make my way towards the building he enters.

Several minutes pass before I feel comfortable enough to enter. I have no idea what’s awaiting me on the other side. He might be standing guard just inside the building, gun at the ready, so I hold mine up to my chest.

If they have Dimitri, I’m going to have to do what it takes to get him back. Luckily, dad used to take me shooting and Rebecca insisted on self-defense classes, but that hardly makes me feel any bit more comfortable. It could be the end.

I beg myself to turn back, to just go back to Dimitri’s condo and hope for the best, but I’ve always been stubborn and curious to a fault. My dad used to call me his little daredevil.

Kneeling, I touch the handle of the door, cautiously turning it. Every second feels like an eternity, but I have to go slow. Quick movements draw the eye and create more sound, two things that would definitely attract trouble. Staying down helps so that if they do shoot, they’d not be shooting down, hopefully.

I begin the tedious process of opening the door, and when I finally get inside, there’s no one there. Simply a large room filled with crates.

I close the door behind me, moving in with cautious footsteps. Even though my blood is racing, my breathing is deep and calm. Keep cool under pressure. I have to keep cool.

But when I hear the unmistakable crack of fist on skull, I can’t help but cringe as I picture Dimitri’s gorgeous face taking a pounding.

I quicken my pace, rounding the nearest stack of boxes only to find a staircase leading down. The stairs are iron, and sure to echo, so I can’t chance it. Instead, I get down on the flat of my belly, leaning in so that I can glance down from above. I’m in the dark, so I pray they can’t see me as I peek out.

But what I see is not what I expect.

There stands Dimitri — his fist bloodied, his face fierce — looming over a man I don’t recognize with dark hair and olive skin. Anton’s at his side, wringing his hands, and a truck of a man stands to the side, watching over the proceedings.

Dimitri brings his fist to the bound man’s face again, his eyes already swollen and his lip bust open.

“Who had Rebecca Fairfax killed?” he asks, his voice very clear and deliberate.

Anton then starts speaking in another language I vaguely recognize as Italian, his voice quicker and more frenzied.

The man tied to the chair looks at Anton, replying back in the same language. They were using Anton as a translator? But he’d betrayed Dimitri. Was a snitch. Why would Dimitri trust him again?

“He says it wasn’t the Italians!” Anton translates into English, but Dimitri clearly doesn’t believe him.

“You said she was using our laundering scheme to get money to the Italians so that they could invest it for her without anyone being the wiser,” Dimitri snarls.

“It’s true! She was!”

“And you said that this guy is the money guy.”

“He is!”

A few more brutally quick jabs of Dimitri’s fists into the guy’s torso, and he’s coughing blood. Then the bound man starts speaking again, and Anton translates once more.

“He said he worked with your mother, that she owed him money, but he’d never kill her. She was always good for her loans. It’d be a bad business decision.”

“Viktor,” Dimitri says, and I recognize the name. That’s the man who had arranged for Anton to be picked up by Dimitri and Slava. The one that was to be promoted.

“
Da?
”

“I need to talk to Anton in private. Take this
izhets
,” Dimitri spits the Russian word as if it were acid on his tongue, “into the back room and let him think it over.”

Viktor lifts the man up easily, chair and all, as if it didn’t weigh a thing. He has to be almost seven feet of solid muscle, and he has a certain aura around him that terrifies me. They disappear and Dimitri looks to Anton.

“I heard something in the alley when I was makin’ that call,” Anton says in a hushed tone.

I can’t make out Dimitri’s face as he turns away, but my blood runs cold and I pull up so that my head isn’t visible from their position any longer.

“You see anyone?”

“Naw, just shadows is all. Could’ve been a stray bitch for all I know.”

There’s silence, and I take a deep breath, but then the conversation changes.

“I’m real sorry, boss. He’s the only guy that we got that talked to her. She was always real certain on that, that she only ever dealt with one guy. I guess it was so that it didn’t get back to you and the Russians. Even I didn’t find out until after she was dead, or I would have told you, I swear.”

“If she’s in debt, he’s going to try to collect. From me.”

It doesn’t seem he’s gotten any closer to Rebecca’s killer than I have.

I take a chance, glancing down again, and Dimitri is looking right at me. I go cold, and quickly stand up, gun still in hand. I’m about to head for the door when I hear something that chills me to the spine.

Three gunshots echo through the warehouse. For a second, I think that it’s Dimitri, punishing me for spying. Am I dead?

I check my body for bullet holes, as if I’d be more easily able to feel it with my hands than with my pain receptors, and when I find myself whole, all my calm escapes me and I run for the door. I have no idea who it was who fired those shots, or upon whom, and I don’t know if I want to find out.

Curiosity really would kill the cat this time.

Curiosity still might have.