I shoot him a glare. “Because he’s got nothing to do with any of this. And I don’t want him to get hurt. I doubt he knows anything about your brother. But he might have information about Benny’s connections.”
Alexei’s chest expands. When he exhales, his shoulders relax.
His knuckles brush my cheek in a whisper-light touch. “I won’t hurt him. I won’t even scare him.”
“Promise?”
He leans over and kisses my temple. “I promise,lyubimaya.”
Chapter 31
Alexei
Several hours after breakfast, I find Aurora in the studio, absorbed in her work. She doesn’t hear me enter as she arranges pieces of shattered china against an adhesive. Since gifting the room to her a few days ago, I barely recognize the space.
The previously bare concrete now explodes with color and pandemonium.
Her chaotic light.
Even the sun seems different here, filtering through the windows she cleaned and shining on tables crowded with broken things waiting to be reborn.
I observe her from just outside the elevator. She’s wearing one of my t-shirts, knotted at the waist, sleeves rolled up to her shoulders. Safety goggles push her hair back from her face in wild waves. Dust and dried adhesive streak her arms like war paint. She works with the same focus I bring to field-stripping a weapon.
Methodical, certain, with muscle memory guiding each motion.
The piece shaping beneath her hands is…gorgeous. I don’t know art. Never cared to. But this fragmented blue and white wavelike pattern speaks to a place buried deep inside me. Theshattered edges fit together perfectly, creating a beautiful whole from fragments that anyone else would relegate to the trash.
She glances up with a start, finally sensing me. “Holy shit!” Her hand flies to her chest. “Make some noise next time.”
Battling my own nature, I steel myself to ask the woman who’s flipped my life upside down for a favor. “I need your help.”
She sets down her tool—the nipper gadget she delighted over—and slides the goggles up to her forehead. “What’s going on?”
“I need to talk to Johnny without scaring the shit out of him. If you’re there, you can serve as a buffer.”
Though her eyebrows lift in surprise, she doesn’t hesitate. “Sure, I’ll help.”
“I found him.” I spent the morning ferreting out all the details on Johnny I could. “He works at a garage in Pilsen. But?—”
“But you knew you’d freak him out.” She peels off her work gloves, wiping her hands on a rag that’s dirtier than her fingers. “And you showing up at his home or workplace would definitely terrify him.”
I give a single, sharp nod. She gets it—gets me—in ways that infuse me with both gratitude and uneasiness.
“So you need me to…what?” She tilts her head, studying me with clear green eyes. “Introduce you? Vouch for you?”
“Yes.”
A soft laugh rings out, and she shakes her head. “You know, for someone who lives in a city of millions, you’re not very good with people.”
The observation should anger me or feel like an exposed weakness. Instead, I find myself fighting a smile. “I’m good with certain kinds of people.”
“The kind you intimidate or kill, you mean.” She crosses to a sink in the corner and scrubs adhesive from her hands.“Johnny’s not that kind. He’s a decent guy. A little simple maybe, but good. Honest.” She dries off and crosses the studio to gather her purse. “Let me change, and then we should go. If he works nights, he might be leaving soon.”
No hesitation or second-guessing. She’s adjusting to this life—to my life—faster than I dreamed possible.
The thought elicits equal parts satisfaction and concern. “I’ll drive.”
She rolls her eyes. “Obviously. I don’t know where he lives.”
