AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I didn’t know if me defying him pissed him off or amused him. It was hard to read Arlo’s expressions the majority of the time, because he kept himself so closed off.
“Okay,” I said without any heat. I would’ve taken more of the self-defense classes in Vegas before fleeing, but funds and time hadn’t really allowed it. And as I stared at him, I knew without a doubt Arlo could kill somebody with his bare hands if need be. “But can you tell mewhyyou’re doing this? Like, I understand the safety aspect, but why do you care? I’m a nobody.”
He just looked at me, not speaking, but there was this hard tension around him. I knew I’d still get no answers from him.
Fine, if he wanted to give me a hard time, then I’d just show him how stubborn I was. “I need to work on my next shift.” The hard set of his jaw told me he was about to argue, but I shook my head. “Listen,” I said before he could go into whatever spiel he was about to say to me. “I don’t know what mess I’m caught up in, because you won't tell me, but I know if you wanted to hurt me, I wouldn’t be in your apartment right now, eating a strawberry danish and drinking bitter-ass coffee.” His lips quirked slightly as if he was amused. “But Ihaveto go to work. I can’t justnot. It’s clear you’re not hard up for money,” I said and pointedly looked around his lavish penthouse apartment, “but Idon’t have that luxury or privilege. I…” I stopped before I could say I was running and needed all the funds I could get.
His eyes narrowed marginally when I wouldn’t press on. It was very clear this man got what he wanted without anyone giving him shit about it, but I was already in a deep enough hole with my own problems, and then there was all this other stuff that was now laid in my lap. I just wanted to figure out how things were going to go and if they could even get better at this point.
But I wasn’t ready to give up on this. If he wanted to “keep me safe” and force me to stay, then there was one thing he’d learn about me, and that was I didn’t give up easily when I put my mind to something.
We were in this silent stare-off for a couple of seconds, and when he didn’t speak, I exhaled and just pressed on. “I have to work,” I said, softer this time, hating myself that I heard the defeat in my voice. “I know you said it’s not safe, and I’m not stupid, but you don’t understand, Ihaveto make money.”
“If you’re in trouble, all you have to do is tell me and I can help.” His voice was low and deep, but I didn’t miss the edge, didn’t miss the danger lying underneath.
“Maybe I don’t want anyone’s help.” The words were so soft I didn’t even know if he heard, but when he spoke, I knew he had.
“Maybe sometimes we have to ask for help, even if we don’t want it.”
I was shaking my head before he finished but couldn't find the words to say anything. I looked around his incredible apartment, took in the natural light filling the space, noticed all the expensive, sleek appliances, and didn’t miss how everything screamed of wealth.
“You can’t possibly know how it feels to struggle.” I was assuming, and I shouldn’t. I knew nothing about Arlo, where hecame from or how he’d grown up. When I looked back at him, I could see the hardness back in his eyes.
“I had some clothing delivered for you.”
He changed the subject so fast my head spun. He looked pointedly at my shirt and shorts. I didn’t bother asking how he knew my size to order me anything. “You can’t work out in those.” He lifted his gaze back to my face. “We’ll leave in an hour to teach you how to defend yourself,moy svet.”
I didn’t know what he’d just said in Russian, but I could assume it was along the lines of “ungrateful bitch.”
I exhaled and finished my danish and coffee, rinsed out my cup, and set it in the sink. I wanted to ask him over and over again why he was doing any of this, letting me stay in this posh apartment, feeding me, clothing me… protecting me. I just wanted to take his face in my hands and… kiss him.
Instead I picked up the bag he’d gestured toward on the ground by the breakfast bar and walked away, mentally adding up how much I’d owe Arlo after this was all said and done.
And as I walked back to the guest room to change, I felt him watching me the whole time.
14
Galina
This felt like it was areallybad idea as I stood across from Arlo in a questionably stained—possibly once white—boxing ring.
We’d left almost two hours ago from his apartment. I’d taken in the wealthy part of the city, remembering the glittering skyscrapers that seemed to touch the heavens, where people walked up and down the streets without the fear of getting pulled into a dark alley.
I’d stared out the window of his car and saw the affluence slowly turned into that ugliness Desolation was so known for.
I didn’t need to ask if this gym was Russian. That had been clear when we stepped inside and I saw the massive Russian flag hanging behind the boxing ring, coupled with the fact that all I heard was men shouting and talking in another language.
At first, I’d had in this weird moment of awe as I followed Arlo inside, the gym bag hanging loosely from his strong, broad shoulders. Although all the noise sounded like there were a hundred men crammed inside, there was probably only ahandful, all of them so big and loud it made my ears ring. But as soon as they noticed Arlo, the conversation stopped, all eyes on us.
He said something low but loud enough that it carried through the small interior. And then I watched in confusion and a little bit mesmerized as the men left. As in theyleftthe gym.
I glanced around. The place appeared run-down, decades old. The boxing ring itself was battered, with dark tape holding some of the roping together that surrounded us, the white beneath my feet stained in brown, rusty shades.
I looked at Arlo again, the white T-shirt he wore hiding almost all the tattoos on his chest, yet I could make out the dark ink and shapes beneath the thin, light-colored material. “Is this place owned by the Russian mafia?” I had no idea why those words came from my mouth. I felt my eyes flare in surprise and a little bit of fear.
I didn’t want to get on his bad side, although I didn't know if Arlo had a good side.
I also had no idea if blatantly talking about the Bratva would piss him off. Not that I knew anything about the former, but if I were to guess, I assumed this place was hard-core mafia territory.
