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EMERY
When I wake up, I hear rustling in the corner.
I roll over, pulling the sheet up to cover my still-naked body. The room is dark, but my eyes are adjusted enough that I can see a shadow moving near the closet.
I know instantly it’s Adrik.
It’s not just the size of him. I recognize him. The shape of his shoulders, the curve of his neck, the tapering of his waist. In a short time, I’ve become intimately familiar with every curve and edge of Adrik Tasarov.
The thought should horrify me.
But it doesn’t.
I smile. “Can’t sleep?”
He whips around, eyes wide in the darkness. That’s when I see the gun in his hand.
I sit up. The sheet pools around my waist. “What the hell are you doing?”
He presses a finger to his lips. “I heard something.”
“So you grabbed a gun? What if it’s Travis?” I ask. “Or Toma checking on Sasha?”
“Toma left this afternoon. And I know the difference between an animal and a human.”
“How? I wouldn’t!”
“That’s because I’ve spent a lifetime training myself to see and hear what’s going on around me, and you’ve spent a lifetime training yourself not to,” he snaps. “Now, stay here and be quiet.”
“Adrik, you can’t go out there. What if—”
“Stay. Here.”
Then he’s gone, sliding through the door, one shadow melting into an ocean of them.
I shove my frustration aside and climb out of bed. As quietly as I can, I pull on the first bundle of clothes I can find. I end up in my jeans and one of Adrik's ridiculously large t-shirts. They’re skintight on him, but on me, it looks like I’m wearing a potato sack.
It’ll have to do for now. I knot the hem at my hip on my way out the door.
In the hallway, I hear the first signs of a scuffle. Shuffled steps, low grunts.
Then Adrik speaks. "Take one more step and you'll be dead before your foot hits the floor."
My heart is in my throat as I tiptoe down the hallway towards the living room. I should have brought a weapon. A real Bratva wife would have, I'm sure.
Then again, it doesn't sound like Adrik needs my help.
"Blyat’, I'm sorry,” another voice answers.
Male, I know that. But it sounds… familiar?
"Don't fucking move," Adrik says.
I'm at the mouth of the hallway now. I can see shadows moving around the living room. How Adrik is able to tell the man is following his orders, I have no idea. It wouldn't surprise me if he had built-in night vision like an apex predator.
Adrik edges back and flicks on a lamp. Instantly, my pupils are blasted with bright white light. I hiss and Adrik sighs.
"I told you to stay in our room," he growls without looking at me.
"I won't hurt her."
I look towards the male voice. My eyes are still watering from the sudden brightness, but I can make out who it is now.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Rurik?" Adrik asks.
I notice he doesn't lower his weapon. Rurik seems to notice, as well. He raises his hands in the air, head lowered in obvious submission.
Or maybe not. When I look closer, I realize Rurik is slouched, his body leaning strangely to the right side. And there are bruises on his face.
"Are you hurt?" I ask.
“He will be if he doesn’t tell me what the fuck he’s doing here,” Adrik cuts in.
Rurik holds up his hands. "I'm sorry, sir. I wanted to talk to you directly, and I didn't know how."
"You should've gone to Stefan."
"I couldn't," Rurik says.
Adrik hardly responds, but I can read him so well. There's a subtle tightening in his shoulders. A slight tilt of his head.
He's concerned.
"Why not? Where's Stefan?"
"He's fine," Rurik says quickly. "Or, he's physically fine, anyway."
"Spit it out before I get bored and pull the trigger," Adrik says.
Rurik flinches. "Stefan is… I think he’s up to something, sir.”
The sudden silence that falls over the room is heavy. It feels like a physical thing I need to wade through as I instinctively move towards Adrik.
Stefan is his best friend. His confidante. His right-hand man. Adrik will never say it, but if Stefan is moving against him, he'll need someone with him.
He'll need me.
I stand behind him, close enough I can feel the frenetic energy coming off of his body in electrifying waves.
"Explain," he rasps.
"Stefan attacked me," Rurik says. "I told him the engine on your car was tampered with and he lost his mind. He told me I didn't know what I was talking about. When I offered to have my guy look at the car, he beat the shit out of me and told me to keep my mouth shut.”
Adrik tilts his head to get a better look at Rurik's injuries. There's an oozing gash on his right cheek and some bruising under his right eye.
“Why would he do that?”
“Fuck if I know,” Rurik snaps. Immediately, he seems to regret his tone. “I’m… I’m sorry. I just… It’s been a long night.”
“It’s about to get a lot shorter if you don’t start explaining yourself,” Adrik rumbles. He circles the tip of his pistol in the air to punctuate the point.
Rurik gulps. “I don’t like to get involved in the politics. I don’t like speculating on anything or sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“Interesting, considering I remember you defying my orders to sneak food to my wife,” Adrik snarls. “Actions speak louder than words, Rurik. And yours have been screaming.”
Rurik refuses to look at me, but I can tell he’s watching me in his peripherals.
Adrik doesn’t even know about Rurik being the one to bring me the silver mail opener when I was in the dungeon. It was what I used to pick the lock on my cage door. And Pietro Volandri’s, too.
Maybe, for Rurik’s sake, I won’t bring that up.
“And now, you show up at my house, breaking and entering in the middle of the night?” Adrik shrugs. “Seems like you do like sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Seems like you fucking love it, actually.”
“No. No, really, I don’t,” Rurik protests. “I’m too soft-hearted. My mama always said that. She can’t believe I got tangled up in the Bratva life the same way my brothers did. She said I don’t have it in me. Maybe she’s right.”
“Out with it, for fuck’s sake!” Adrik orders. “This isn’t your goddamn therapy session.”
“I think Stefan is a rat!” Rurik practically shouts the words. Once they’re out, he stumbles back into the wall. Like he wants to separate himself from what he just said.
Adrik frowns. “What makes you say that?”
“He’s been leaving at odd hours,” Rurik says. “Disappearing. He takes suspicious phone calls. And he has been passing information to Yasha. I saw the two of them talking just the other day. In the garage. The cameras are still off, so no one else would have seen. Then with the car engine thing… I knew I needed to tell you.”
Slowly, Adrik lowers the gun. At the same time, Rurik relaxes.
My heart is still thundering out of my chest. I’m not relaxed at all. Stefan is working against us? I don’t know him nearly as well as Adrik does, and I’m still floored by the thought. I can’t imagine it. How is Adrik still standing?
“Fuck,” Adrik breathes, walking over to Rurik like a defeated man.
Rurik nods. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I knew I needed to be the one to tell you.”
“I appreciate that,” Adrik says, reaching out to lay his hand on Rurik’s shoulder. “More than you could possibly know. Because I love being there in person to catch liars out.”
Before any of us can even process what he said, Adrik raises the pistol and slams the butt of it down on Rurik’s skull.
Rurik crumples like a rag doll.
