Page 95 of Dangerous Promises

I drop my head. "I... don't know what you want me to say."

Dad's harsh stare dissects the look between Anton and myself, where my uncle looks at me with barely contained anger and disappointment. Dad shakes his head at us, like we've turned on him and he can't trust us anymore. The look guts me inside. He's meant to be the lynch pin of this family, but now he looks at us like we're strangers.

"This isn't going to be your decision for long. I'm getting better every day," Dad says, like his healing is meant to be a threat to us, as he shuffles back inside.

Anton's face turns gutted as he watches him go. He turns that same devastated look on me. "I'm so disappointed in you, Sage."

"What was I supposed to say?" I gasp. "I could tell him I killed Victor. But then he'd wonder if Alexei knew that. And then why Alexei was so calm about it if he did know. And then we'd have to tell him about the death promise. And then Dad would kill Alexei. And then Chet would kill us. So tell me, what was I supposed to say?!"

"Anything other than nothing," Anton says, shaking his head as he gently brushes past me. When he leaves, he can't even look at me. For that, I can't blame him. For over a year now, I've barely been able to look at myself.

My fingertips rest on my bedroom door as I contemplate turning around and running to tell Dad everything. It would be easy tochange my mind. Today will always be better than telling them tomorrow.

Lying is too much like second nature now though. It's well practiced. Instinct. I am far too good at it.

The secrets I've kept have weighed heavy on my heart, but they've had their purpose. Anton might not realize it, but confessing to Dad will do nothing to convince him to keep the Rushkoffs around. Nor would it likely do anything to alleviate the tension. I know he will find out eventually, but I am in no rush to bring that day forward any sooner.

The fact that Chet loved my mother… I don't know whether I am pained or repulsed. How could he love her and hurt her daughter? Was all that really enough to warrant strips of skin being seared from my back? Was it all so potent that he couldn't simply move on and forgive her?

It's a question I may understand too well. Could I ever forgive Alexei? Could Dad ever forgive me? What would be worse in his eyes? The deceit and murder? Or whatever exists between Alexei and I?

Even I cannot be sure if that is love or hate anymore. Whatever it is, it's fleeting. If the past has taught us anything, it's that Rushkoffs and DeMarcos cannot exist together. We'd had it right separating ourselves on either side of the city and never crossing paths.

I finally push open the door to my bedroom and run my fingers over the hem of my dress, about to take it off and shower when I see someone sitting on my bed.

"In trouble, princess?" Alexei asks.

I jump, letting go of my dress to fall naturally back down to my knees. Alexei sits on my bed with his knees spread wide, like he owns the space. Or is claiming it. His black shirt hangs slightly open at the front, just enough to see his fully inked skinin clear view and his eyes are dark and piercing as they track me across the room.

"Almost," I reply, controlling my breaths as I pretend he has no effect on me. I turn to the mirror and start taking my jewelry off. Alexei cracks his knuckles, drawing my attention back to him for I know where this is going. In weeks there hasn't been a time that he's been in my bedroom without… Well. Needless to say my knees are shaking with anticipation from the look in his eyes.

"No luck bringing your dad around?" he asks, and I deflate at the turn of conversation. Not exactly where I expected or wanted this to go.

I place my earrings in the glass bowl and then remove my necklace the same way. "I don't need luck. We'll all work together, they won't have a choice."

His eyebrows raise in surprise. "Cocky now," he notes. He stands from the bed and stalks towards me, eyes menacing as he steps up behind me in the mirror. He's so close I can feel him lightly pressing against me and his hot breath on my neck. "Anything you wanna share?"

Spirits are heavy on his breath and for whatever reason I find the smell intoxicating, remembering how it tastes when his tongue is in my mouth. "Soon," I promise.

I turn to face him, holding his gaze as I lift the hem of my dress over my head and throw it away, standing before him in just my underwear.

His eyes run the length of my body, but he doesn't reach out to touch me, simply trapping me in his stare.

When I look at Alexei now I see the same thing I have always seen. From the moment we met, always something intense and strange. He looked at me then the same as he looks at me now.

But now I'm not so sure what to call it. In fact, I'm starting to think I've been calling it the wrong thing this whole time.

His nostrils flare as I slip away from him and head towards my bathroom. He watches me as I move inside and start the shower. When I close the door I leave it open a peek. This time when I undress, I make sure to throw my bra and my panties out to where I know he is still standing.

I slide underneath the stream and under the warmth. My heart pounds at a hundred miles, wondering if I will remain alone in here. My ears prick for any sound that gives away his approach. Will he walk out of my bedroom door and away, or through this one and here with me? I freeze when I hear the door crack open an inch.

My breath comes in harsh pants, anticipation raising goosebumps on my skin. Tattooed fingers come into view as they grip the shower curtain. I gulp as Alexei slowly pulls the curtain aside, eyes not yet dropping to my body.

It remains that way as he slowly starts to unbutton his shirt and I follow the movement, watching as tattooed fingers pull at the buttons.

"Eyes on me," Alexei says. On command, my eyes snap back up to his, watching the raw hunger in him as he slips his shirt off. I'm desperate to see his perfectly tattooed abs flexing but I don't dare deviate from his order.

Next he removes his belt, but again I don't look away, teased by the sound of metal hammering as he throws it aside. Even as he is fully naked, I still look only into his eyes as he climbs into the shower with me, making the space feel smaller and far more intimate.