“I didn’t ask for his help,” I muttered back. I kept my face blank, aware of the audience behind my back.
“Could have fooled me,” Aleksey whispered. His gaze dropped to my mouth for one split second before hardening into a glare. “Keep hiding behind him like agood boy. It suits you.”
He bumped his shoulder roughly against mine as he pushed past me to head back toward the bar entrance. The blunt physical contact sent a liquid heat straight to my groin, overriding the bitter cold of the parking lot.
I stood there for a second, swallowing hard to get my breathing under control. Then I yanked the door open and climbed into the driver’s seat.
The van’s heater slowly thawed my frozen fingers as I ran endless, repetitive loops between the local bar and our hotel. Shuttling loud, highly intoxicated teammates required zero actual thought. It was just mindless driving, leaving me trapped with my own racing brain.
Every single time I pulled back up to the snowy curb outside the bar, my stomach tightened. I kept bracing myself for a specific, broad frame to step out of the red neon light.
By the time the last large group of seniors stumbled out into the hotel lobby, the quiet inside the van felt deafening. I drove back to the bar for the final sweep, only to find the snowy parking lot basically empty.
Until the passenger door suddenly wrenched open.
A blast of freezing wind hit the center console, followed by Aleksey. He climbed in and slammed the door shut.
The lock clicked, and all the oxygen seemingly vanished from the cab.
This was it. The very first time we were totally, completely alone since the bus.
My grip on the leather steering wheel tightened until my joints ached. I stared straight ahead at the sweeping windshield wipers, as my hands tightened around the steering wheel.
The sheer gravity of him sitting mere inches away felt suffocating. And out of the corner of my eye, the yellow streetlights illuminated the crude, bloody gauze wrapped thickly around his battered hands.
I shifted the gear into drive. I did not ask whether he was okay. I just waited.
“Take a left up here,” Aleksey ordered. The rough gravel of his voice vibrated in the small, heated space.
“The hotel is straight ahead.” I kept my tone perfectly level.
“Take the side road by the woods.”
I turned my head to look at him. The thick muscle in his scarred jaw was jumping rapidly. “Why?”
“Just turn the wheel, damn it.”
The tires slipped on the wet slush, taking the turn. The main road faded behind us. Snow fell steadily against the windshield when the van finally parked in the dark near the tree line.
I shoved the gearshift into park, the engine idling around us.
The loud, metallic click of Aleksey unbuckling his seatbelt echoed inside the van. I unbuckled my own seatbelt, but before I could even turn to look at him, he was already moving.
He pushed himself out of the passenger seat, sliding through the narrow gap between the front seats to step into the empty rows behind us.
He did not say a word. He just reached right back over the low plastic center console and grabbed the front of my shirt in two large fistfuls.
With one violent pull, he hauled me out of the driver’s seat. I scrambled awkwardly over the divider, my boots catching on the floor mats as he dragged me into the unlit back of the van.
Aleksey did not give me a single second to catch my balance. He backed me up hard until my back slammed against the cold metal of the interior wall, his weight pinning me there.
Fast, harsh breaths filled the van.
“Don’t you ever fucking do that again,” Aleksey snarled.
“Do what?” Matching his erratic breathing was impossible to avoid.
“Take hits like that.” Pushing me harder against the metal wall, his voice shook with a mix of fury and adrenaline. “I’m not watching you get targeted.”
