Keira hung up and grabbed a bag.She kept an overnight one packed for emergencies.She paused and looked around her room.There wasn’t a single damn thing that she couldn’t live without.The jewelry her mother gave her hadn’t been touched in well over two years.Her books lay unread.She finally snatched a picture of her and her siblings from the dresser and shoved it into the pack, followed by her bag of perfectly rolled joints and two bottles of vodka.Dmitri was Russian—he no doubt owned stock in vodka—but she’d rather have her own stash close at hand.
And then there was nothing else holding her to this place.She shoved the window open and climbed out.It was a route she’d taken more times than she could count, no matter how often her brother threatened to install bars to hold her in.She swung out of the window and climbed down the tree to the ground.
A bitter wind kicked her hair into her face and made her wish she’d thought to bring a sweatshirt, but it was too late to worry about it now.Keira shrugged her bag over her shoulder and started down the street toward the black town car and the man who stood next to it as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
As if he wasn’t in the very heart of enemy territory, stealing her out from under her family’s nose.
Dmitri Romanov was striking in the way of fallen angels, his face a little too rough for perfection, his mouth a little too calculating and made for spilling lies, his gray eyes a little too icy to be anything other than exactly whathe was—a cold-blooded killer who manipulated people to suit his purposes.
Against her better judgment, she picked up her pace, drawn to him despite everything that had happened between them—and everything that hadn’t.
“Stop.”
Dmitri moved.One second he was several feet away, and the next he pulled Keira to him—behind him.She blinked and peered around his shoulder to find her middle brother standing on the sidewalk, a gun in his hand.
A gun pointed atDmitri.
“Put the gun down, Cillian.”Dmitri spoke softly, his hands out to his sides.
Shielding me.
More like protecting his investment.
“I don’t care if you helped Aiden and Charlie, you arenottaking my sister anywhere.”
Keira bit down angry words.Right now, the only thing that mattered was defusing the situation.Her brother wanted to protect her—she got that—but he was putting everyone they cared about in danger with this bullshit.She opened her mouth, but Dmitri spoke before she had a chance.
“You owe me a favor, Cillian O’Malley.”
“The fuck I do.”
“Break your word and our deal is null and void.”
Oh God.If Cillian did that, it would be even worse than shooting Dmitri right then and there.Keira stepped around Dmitri and put her hand on his chest.“Cillian, please.Just let me go.I’m choosing this.I’ll be okay.I promise.”Soft and easy.Lie with your words and tone and body.
Cillian relaxed.The gun inched lower, finally aiming safely at the concrete at her brother’s feet.“Aiden is going to come after you, Keira.You know that.”
He couldn’t come after her, because if he did, Dmitri would have the ammunition he needed to attack.She leaned forward, her voice low and fierce.“He promised to respect my choice.”She had to get her message across or this would all be for nothing.
She turned and walked away, now gripping Dmitri’s shirt to tow him after her.If she didn’t, the boys were liable to whip out their cocks just to see whose was biggest.Better to remove Dmitri from the temptation of poking at her brother—something he had a long history of doing, given that Cillian was living with Dmitri’s half sister.Keira held her breath the entire time, waiting for Cillian to push the subject, waiting for Dmitri to make a snide comment.But, miracle of miracles, both men stayed silent.
It wasn’t until they were in the backseat that Keira relaxed enough to slouch against the leather and close her eyes.We made it.I fulfilled my end of the bargain and no one got killed… yet.“How long until we get to your place?”The sooner they got out of Boston—and O’Malley territory—the better it would be for everyone.Even Aiden would think twice about coming to New York where Dmitri had home-court advantage.
“We’re not going to my place.”
Goddamn it, she would strangle him herself if this was yet another game.What am I talking about?Of course it’s all a game.Game playing is what Dmitri does best.She took a breath, and then another, striving to keep her reaction under control.Finally, when she was sure she couldpull off the belligerent tone without the slightest hint of fear, she opened one eye.“Then where are we going?”
“A chapel.”
Dmitri Romanov didn’t permit himself to breathe a sigh of relief.This was only the first step in a path that could potentially span years.It didn’t matter.Keira was here—washis.He had time.
He watched her look around the inside of the town car, cataloging everything with those witchy hazel eyes of hers.The faint scent of pot filled the car, giving evidence to what she’d been up to when he called.The woman was a mess, but he’d known that from the moment he met her.Dmitri didn’t do projects.He preferred to be the one holding all the cards—it allowed him to anticipate how the people around him would act in any given situation.
He’d never been able to anticipate Keira.Not from the moment she picked his pocket and walked away from him as if she didn’t give a fuck about the danger he posed to her.
Likely because she has a goddamn death wish.
He’d deal with that, just like he’d deal with the rest of Keira’s issues.In time.
