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I stayed where I was as I stared down at him, this heaviness in my chest lifting marginally knowing Galina was safe from this fucker. I stood and walked a few steps back, and while keeping my eyes on the dead bastard, I grabbed my phone from my pocket and dialed the number that would handle the rest of this.
As soon as I heard the deep voice on the other end, I said, “I need to book a travel ticket for one. Yes, I need assistance with extra baggage.” I stared at Leonid’s now lifeless form as I put the cleanup in motion.
Once it was all set and my phone was back in my coat pocket, I reached over and grabbed a white linen napkin, rubbing it over my hands while I stared down at the fabric as it changed to red and pink. The blood of my enemy smeared across that strip of cloth, the stickiness of it covering my fingers and palms.
I let the napkin drop as I left the room, shutting the door behind me. If the women were smart, they were long gone by now. I walked down the hall and saw Akim standing in the kitchen entrance. His gaze took in the blood covering my clothing and hands. I gave him a nod, and he gave me one in return.
I left the restaurant and headed back to Galina. Moy svet.
My light.
21
Galina
I’d seen the blood on Arlo’s hands and clothes, smelled it filling the car interior as he said nothing and drove us back to his apartment. I didn’t need to ask what had happened… what he’d done. I knew.
He’d killed Leonid. He’d made it safe for me.
Arlo hadn’t said one word the entire drive back, and not a single syllable once we were inside his penthouse. He headed straight to his room, and a moment later I heard the shower kick on. I’d wanted to go to him, to touch him, hold him—even if he probably didn’t want that—and show Arlo I was here for him.
But instead I went to my room and showered. I had been able to still feel Leonid’s oily gaze on my body, and wanted to scrub my skin clean until there was no memory of tonight left.
Now here I was, sitting on my bed with my hands clasped in my lap, my legs bare, and the only article of clothing I wore was a shirt that fell to midthigh.
I stared at the partially opened door, having heard the shower in Arlo’s room turn off so long ago I’d been frozen in this spot, afraid to leave and talk to him, confront him… comfort him. But then I found myself pushing off the bed and standing, making my way out into the hall and to his room. The door was open, but he wasn’t there, the bed made, the room void of life.
I heard a soft sound come from down the hall and walked on bare feet toward the kitchen. I stopped when I saw Arlo’s huge form standing against the granite breakfast counter, wearing only a pair of dark sweatpants, his chest bare and so wide and big, so muscular and powerful.
He’d killed a man tonight with that body, with those hands.
I felt my heart flutter in my chest and was walking toward him before I realized I was doing it. He didn’t look at me, although I knew he was fully aware I was moving forward. He brought a bottle of liquor to his mouth and took a long pull from it before setting it on the counter, the glass hitting the granite making a hard clank.
I was a few feet from him and held my breath as he turned his head, and our gazes crashed together, held so strongly I felt it in the pit of my stomach.
“Come closer,” he said so low it felt like an intimate caress against my body. There was no doubt in his tone I was not to disobey. But I didn’t move. I couldn't. Something held me back, maybe fear of these feelings inside me, maybe the unknown of what happened next. “Come here.”
I was obeying him instantly after those two words spilled from his mouth, an anchor wrapping around me and tethering me to Arlo in a way that ensured I wouldn’t drift again.
His hand shot out so fast that I had no time to react, to gasp… to run.
He curled his hand around my waist and jerked me toward him, then spun me around and pressed me against the counter, my chest flush with the unforgiving, cold granite. The feeling of his body moving close to mine, his heat searing me from the inside out, was euphoric.
The sound of his palms slapping the counter on either side of me was loud, causing my ears to ring, my body to tremble. His warm breath tickled my ear, and I shivered and closed my eyes.
