My nerves ready to explode, I nearly screech at the sound of my name.
Vasya stands in the hallway, hair a mess as if he’s just woken up. “Is everything okay?”
“No.” More tears spill over, and Vasya’s image blurs. “Something’s happened to Jordan. He called, and he was scared, and I can’t get ahold of him now…”
“Let’s go.” Vasya doesn’t need to hear any more to jump into action. “Let’s go. Do you know where he is?”
“He texted me an address.” I look it up as I hurry after Vasya.
“I’ll take you to him.”
I feel the tears well again, panic thrumming through me until I feel sick with it.
25
EVGENY
“Ithink that was a success, don’t you?”
Dmitri leans back in the leather chair. The bumps and jerks of taxiing down the runway barely ripple his large frame.
“Hmm.”
My attention is on my phone. I reread the text I sent Eva when we took off. I haven’t received a reply yet, and the wait has my fingers drumming on my thigh.
“You don’t think so?”
“I think we got what we wanted.”
Dmitri levels his gaze at me, and I can almost hear his thoughts.Aren’t they the same thing?Except they aren’t. I wasn’t myself at the meeting, and I could tell the men who run my East Coast operations noticed.
This is the first time in memory that I have been distracted, pushing the agenda so my time on the East Coast would end sooner. And all because, for the first time, I have a reason to go home. I have someone to go home to, someone I’m desperate tosee, to hold her in my arms and feel her warmth, breathe in the scent of her skin, kiss the lips I’ve missed so much.
I should be angry about my distraction during the meetings, especially where the Bratva is concerned. But I can’t bring myself to be upset when the reason is Eva.
“You have it bad, Evgeny.”
My attention returns to the phone screen and the blank space where Eva’s reply should be. I keep thumbing the conversation up and down just to keep the screen from going dark.
At Dmitri’s words, I meet his eyes again, only to see the shit-eating grin on his face. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on.” The grin widens. “Everyone can see it. You’re completely gone for Eva.”
“I’m not ‘gone’ for anything,” I growl, locking the screen and stuffing it into my jacket pocket.
The smirk Dmitri gives me saysyeah, sureas clearly as the flight attendant’s announcement that we’ve arrived and can deplane.
The woman’s eyes linger on me as I pass by, and I give her a cursory glance. She’s model-beautiful, tall and thin, her skirt following dips and curves that at one time would have had me telling her to come to my house later in the evening. And she would have had no objections based on how her tongue runs over her lips as she watches me go.
Then her gaze lands on the scarred side of my face, and she looks away quickly.
I let out a short laugh as I push past her to the door, used to it. The pilot thanks me for my business as I pass throughthe doorway and head down the steps to the tarmac. Dmitri is already there, his phone pressed to his ear, and he’s gesturing in short, jerky movements to the man who’s serving as my driver today.
That’s the first warning I have. The second is the expression on Dmitri’s face when he turns toward me.
I know that look, the pinched expression that deepens the fine lines around his mouth, showing his troubled eyes.
My heart skips a beat before plunging into my gut. “Eva?”
