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The other part wanted to go break all of Jude’s walls down so he’d see how amazing he was. So he’d believe me when I told him I loved him for exactly who he was.
Fuck.
I had no clue how long I’d sat there before I became aware of the nearly endless vibrating of my phone in my pocket. I wanted to ignore it because it was mostly likely Mike wanting to know what the hell had happened with Johnny. But I couldn’t risk missing a call about Maks, so I pulled my phone out of my pocket.
I skimmed the notifications… they were all from Mike.
My phone began vibrating in my hand as yet another call from Mike came in. I sighed and hit the answer button before putting the phone to my ear. “The kid’s a punk, Mike. He left his post,” I said before he could say anything.
There was a pause on the other end before Mike said, “He’s blowing up the other guys’ phones with texts about how you’re fucking around with a client. Guess the little shit thinks he can stage some kind of coup or something.” The way Mike said the last part of his statement told me he wasn’t going to fight me on the decision to fire Johnny.
I opened my mouth to tell Mike I’d explain everything the following day but what ended up coming out instead was, “I fucked up, Mike.”
Another beat of silence on Mike’s part. “So it’s true then. You’re sleeping with Archer?”
I rested my head in my hand as I stared at the fancy area rug beneath my feet. “I’m in love with him,” I heard myself admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mike didn’t pepper me with questions like I expected. Nor did he rant and rave about how I’d broken every rule in the book. Instead, it was my best friend talking and not my boss when he softly said, “Have you told him that?”
I shook my head as if he could see me but I couldn’t make any sound come out. Mike must have recognized my silence for what it was because he said, “Tell him, Nik. You can figure shit out from there but not if you don’t tell him.”
I swallowed the ball of emotion that seemed to be caught in my throat and said, “Thanks, Mike.”
“Yeah, buddy. Call me in the morning.” With that, Mike hung up. I knew he was right, of course, but telling Jude the truth about my feelings for him came with a big-ass problem that had nothing to do with him hating me at the moment.
What if he didn’t love me back?
Was I really ready to expose my underbelly without knowing if Jude had even a sliver of the same feelings for me?
I realized it didn’t matter. I had absolutely nothing to lose. My pride meant nothing to me anymore if it meant I had a chance to keep Jude in my life. Mike was right… I had to tell Jude the truth and whatever happened, happened.
I climbed to my feet with a mix of excitement and stark fear, but I’d only managed to go a few feet toward Jude’s bedroom when there was a knock at the door. In the time I’d been with Jude, he’d never once had a visitor. I automatically pulled my gun out and held it at my side as I went to answer the door.
Jude didn’t have a peephole, something I would need to rectify sooner rather than later, so I was forced to blindly open the door. Several men all dressed in crisp black suits were standing on the other side. I could see the outline of their gun holsters beneath the cut of their jackets, but I didn’t close the door or lift my own gun because I knew who they were. I recognized a couple of them from the night I’d met with Clifton Hayes in his car.
“What?” I asked. I had a sinking feeling about what was happening, but I refused to let it rattle me.
“May we come in, Mr. Falkov?” the lead guy asked.
“No.”
“We’re here at Mr. Hayes’s request. He’d like us to accompany Mr. Archer—”
“I don’t give a fuck what Hayes wants—”
“Nikolai,” Jude called. I didn’t dare take my eyes off the guys at the door, but I fell silent. I was keenly aware of Jude as he approached me. He stopped when he reached the door. I saw the small overnight bag in his hand. “I called them.”
“No,” I said and then I slammed the door shut and flipped the lock. Only then did I look at Jude. “You’re not leaving. Not like this.”
I didn’t recognize the man standing before me.
Actually, I did. I just didn’t want to believe it.
Because standing before me was the Jude Archer I’d met what seemed a lifetime ago. The one who had ice in his veins instead of blood. The one whose fake smile never reached his eyes and who valued silence over saying what he truly thought.
