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“You said no violence,” he whispers and takes a step back. “You promised, Peter.”
“She was attacked.” He releases me and stands, facing Simion, and puts himself between us protectively.
“And you killed the man in cold blood in this bar.” Simion throws the envelope of cash at Peter. “Get out of here. Get the hell out of here.”
Peter reaches back and helps me up. He says something in Greek and Simion only shakes his head. Peter pulls me out after him and we stumble down the darkened hallway and out an emergency back exit.
The alley smells like beer and piss. Peter leans me against the brick and checks me again, fingers probing my face, my head, looking for wounds. “Did he say anything?” he asks. “Did he want anything?”
“No,” I whisper and start blinking back tears. “Wait. Yes. He came in and attacked me. I did what you showed me, I hit him in the crotch, punched him in the neck, and tried to run. Peter, if I’d pulled my gun, none of this would’ve happened, but I was too scared. I just ran instead.”
“It’s not your fault,” he says and squeezes my arms. “Listen to me, Adrienne. You’ve been training for only a fewdays. Nobody gets good in that short of time. It’s a miracle you survived at all, you beautiful fucking girl.”
He kisses me then and I lose myself in his lips. I return the kiss with a needy desperation. I was nearly murdered on that bathroom floor and he saved my life, he smashed that man’s skull in to protect me, and now I’m sick of pretending like I don’t want this.
All I do is make excuses. All I do is act out of fear.
No more fear. No more holding back.
I sink into that kiss and when we break apart, he stares into my eyes.
“Now, I need you to tell me. What did he say?”
My stomach is a sick knot. “He said, ‘Rastus says hello.’ That’s all.”
Peter’s grip on my shoulders tightens. The horror in his eyes is so intense that it makes my entire body shiver. Slowly, he composes himself, lets out a breath, and relaxes his fingers as he turns away. He strips off his bloody shirt and tosses it aside. Better to wear nothing than to move around the city covered in someone else’s life.
“Come on. Let’s go home. We have more work to do.”
Chapter13
Adrienne
Ihave fresh marks on my throat. New bruises under my eyes. My nose is swollen again. My lips are cracked and bloody. I sink into a hot bath and let the warm water wrap itself around my pain as I stare at the ceiling and go over the fight again for the thousandth time.
I had him. The big bastard didn’t expect me to fight back. I hit him hard and got my opening, just the way Peter taught me. Over and over in my head, I think about how I screwed up—how if I had only pulled my gun instead of running, I could’ve salvaged everything.
If I had been strong instead of a coward.
Instead, Peter lost his mind and murdered that thug right there in the bar and obliterated our shot at approaching the captain.
After a while, I clean myself, rinse off, and wrap up in a terrycloth robe. My hair’s wet and my skin’s dewy from lying in the steamy water, and I prod at the wounds on my face. Just when I was starting to heal and look like myself again—right when I was starting to feel pretty or at least approaching something like normal—this happens. I sigh and wonder if I’ll ever look the same again. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
At least Peter still wants to kiss me.
I step out of the bathroom and find him sitting at the end of the bed.
He’s shirtless and wearing only a pair of tight joggers. He’s damp with sweat and his hands are wrapped, which means he was working out on the heavy bag. I know him enough now to realize he does that when he’s angry and frustrated and he doesn’t want to take it out on anyone else. So he takes it out on the bag.
His eyes meet mine as I lean against the doorframe. “You’re in my room.”
“You’re in my house. These are allmyrooms.” He doesn’t smile. “Come here. Let me look at you.”
I hesitate. His expression is tense and angry. “Is this a friendly visit?”
“All my visits are friendly.”
I don’t know if I want to get close to him right now, but I find myself drifting over. I feel vulnerable on so many levels, but that vulnerability only makes my heart race faster as I sit down beside him, and it heightens my excitement. He shifts, moves off the bed, and kneels between my legs.
