My shoulders lift and lower. “Someone I killed.”
Chapter 30
Aurora
I can’t sleep. My body is exhausted in the best way, but my mind refuses to shut down. Every time I close my eyes, I picture his face. Feel his hands. Hear his voice, low and rough in my ear.
How am I supposed to sleep when Alexei Kozlov has seen me in a way no one else ever has before? As if he peeled back my skin and peered into all the messy, complicated layers I’ve spent a lifetime hiding.
The worst part?
I let him. Wanted him to. I even goaded him into going further.
And he still didn’t invade me as deeply as I yearned for because of my freaking “no sex” rule.
With a frustrated sigh, I kick off the covers.
Pixie lifts her head from the pillow beside me, her orange fur glowing in the faint light from the window. She blinks a few times, as if judging me for disturbing her rest.
“Sorry, Pix. One of us should sleep, at least.”
I slip out of bed, the cold floor shocking against my bare feet. The new pale blue nightie, one of the many articles of clothing Alexei ordered for me, falls to mid-thigh, and I tug the materialdown. Though he’s made his desire clear, I struggle not to feel self-conscious.
The loft is quiet with a heavy stillness. I pad down the hallway, my footsteps soundless on the concrete. The door to Alexei’s bedroom is cracked open, but the room beyond lies empty, the bed still made. He hasn’t slept either.
A faint blue glow guides me to the living area. Alexei reclines in one of the sleek leather chairs beside the wall of windows, but he’s not gazing out at the city. His attention is fixed on the screens arrayed before him, their cold light casting harsh shadows across his face. With all those hard angles and unforgiving lines, he could be carved from stone.
I’m five steps away when his head jerks up and his hand darts toward what I suspect is a holstered gun. When recognition kicks in, he blows out a relieved breath and relaxes his arm.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
Without speaking, he assesses me with those bright blue eyes. The screens near him flicker with documents, spreadsheets, and grainy photos.
Police reports.
Coroner’s findings.
A prison record.
I pull up a stool beside his chair, settling in close enough that our shoulders almost touch. “What are you looking for?”
Pixie saunters up and twines around my ankles, her purr a soft vibration against my skin.
For a minute, I’m not sure he’ll answer. The muscles in his jaw tighten and release as he debates whether to let me in.
Finally, he gestures to one of the screens. “I can’t let it go.”
A photo shows a young man no older than Alexei, with similar features and a warmer, easier smile. The family resemblance is unmistakable.
Pieces of the puzzle start to snap into place. “MJ?”
With a sharp jerk of his chin, Alexei nods once. “My brother.”
I wait on him to share more or shut down. Either way, pushing won’t help.
“He took the fall for me. I was on my third strike. Another conviction would have put me away for decades, perhaps life.” He grips the mouse, clicking through files too quickly for me to read. “MJ stepped up. Said it was him. The DA bought it.”
My heart clenches at the bond the brothers must have shared.
