His powerful gaze burns into mine, charring my soul from the inside out before he nods.
“Was the sign in English?” I mumble, my voice incapable of hiding the insanity of the situation.
Rico smiles a lazy smirk that has my heart rate speeding up. “No. It's in Russian.”
My shocked eyes meet his. “Russian?” My pupils widen. “As in Russian,Russian?”
When he nods, the wooziness inflicting my head the past twenty minutes travels to my stomach. I sit still in shock, watching him in silence, hoping he’ll fill in the blank gaps in my mind.
When he remains quiet, I stutter, “You’re Russian?”
A mouthwatering smirk carves onto his mouth before he nods. Even entranced by the lazy smile stretched across his handsome face, I drop my head to my knees, fighting to keep the contents of my stomach where they belong. Unfortunately, my attempts are fruitless; nothing can stop their uncontrollable swirls. Even certain my stomach is empty, I clamp my hand over my mouth and straighten my spine.
“Is there a bathroom closeby?” I ask Rico, mumbling through the cracks of my hand.
He abruptly stands. A speck of blood on the cuff of his light blue business shirt becomes exposed when he gestures his hand to a door on my right. Seeing evidence of his corrupt life firsthand hinders any chance of containing my flipping stomach.
Springing to my feet, I bolt to the door as fast as my quaking legs can take me. I only just make it into the poorly designed bathroom when the slosh in the bottom of my stomach makes its way into the world. My throbbing temples scream in pain when my back violently bends.
Despite the brutal heaves racking my body, I can’t help but notice the way his hand rubbing down my back causes every fine hair on my body to bristle.
Once all the throat-burning contents of my stomach have been expelled, I lean back on the balls of my feet. Tears of confusion well in my eyes, and my heart is a muddled mess of confusion. I’ve never engaged in a battle as vicious as the one my brain and heart are in right now.
How could one man incite such a contradictory set of emotions? My brain is begging for me to leave this room before I walk so far into the darkness I’ll never find my way out. But my heart is pleading with me to ignore the protests of my brain, and for once, let it have a chance to prove its decisions are just as gripping as its astute counterpart.
The warmth of heated skin engulfs me when a set of broad arms band around my body and hoist me from the ground. The stomach-calming smell of spices filters into my nose when Rico pulls me in close to his chest and strides out of the room. My first reaction is to repel out of his grasp, but with my mind nothing but a hazy blur, I allow my heart to win this battle.
When I press my cheek against Rico’s well-formed chest, the wild beat of his heart tames the furious thump of my pounding skull. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend I'm not in the midst of one of the scariest dreams I’ve ever had.
Unfortunately, I lose any shot at normality when he strides past the room I scampered out of minutes ago. The door is only open a mere inch, but it's wide enough for me to see the immoral act playing out before my very eyes. I'm a kindergarten teacher, but I’ve seen enough Hollywood movies to recognize the weapon a man standing in the room is holding.
Like he can sense my snooping stare, the man clutching a black pistol with a silencer screwed on the end turns his gaze to me. His eyes are a vibrant icy blue color, but they are lifeless and hollow. With a conniving grin etched on his face, he winks at me before swinging the barrel of his gun to the now gagged and bound man I saw earlier.
My eyes rocket to Rico. "Are they. . . Is he. . . Are they going to. . .”
My words trail off when the faintest noise of a silencer filters through my ears. It doesn't matter how much the manufacturer claims it's silent, there's no mistaking that sound. It's heart-shattering and devastating.
Fear strikes my heart as tears swamp my eyes. Rico doesn’t flinch, balk, or even acknowledge he heard a thing. He continues moving through the vast residence without a single reaction crossing his face.Who is this man I married? Only a monster could ignore the quiet screams of death.
Fighting my trembling muscles, I crawl out of his embrace just as we hit the door of my room. His eyes convey a protest to the loss of my contact, but his lips remain locked. My entire body quakes in fear, but, thankfully, my legs are in functioning order.
After entering the room, I force my eyes to lock with Rico’s. “Did they kill him?” My words come out strained since they were coerced through the bile sitting in the back of my throat.
He holds my gaze, his eyes blazing with a range of emotions I can't read. "Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to, Kitten.”
Although his tone is clipped, the remorse concealed by his sharp eyes answers my question.
I throw my hand over my quivering lips. “Why? Why did they kill him?”
He slants his head to the side and stares at me with bleak, desolate eyes. “Why what? As far as anyone is concerned, you heard and saw nothing. Do you understand what I'm saying, Kitten?”
My lungs become winded when he takes a step closer to me. “You saw nothing.” His eyes relay the importance of his words. This isn’t a request or a suggestion. This is a demand. “Tell me what you saw, Kitten?” His face is emotionless, his tone low.
Tremors rake through my body as I say, “Nothing. I saw nothing,” through a sob.
The heavy indentations lining his forehead smooth the instant the words seep from my lips. No longer trusting my legs to keep me standing, I pace to the monstrously sized bed and sit on the edge. His eyes track me, but his feet remain planted in his original position as he watches me with reserved silence.
Pain shreds through my heart when the man’s pleas sound on repeat through my ears. Did he have small children like he said? Did Rico's men just make them orphans? As I search his impassive face for answers to my inaudible questions, several minutes pass in silence. They are full of turmoil and despair.
