Valeri
Ilook at the clock again as I race through the early morning traffic and curse aloud in Russian. There’s no one else to hear it, but it still makes me feel better. We had some issues last night with a local biker gang that seems to be under the impression that they can sell drugs in our city as long as it’s within the bar they own. It took a couple of their members being beaten to a pulp to convince them that they’re wrong. Needless to say, I didn’t want to show up for our breakfast date covered in blood, so I’d had to go home and shower and change, and now my phone is dead and I can’t even text to let her know I’m on my way. She has no idea what I do for a living, and it’s refreshing. I don’t want to scare her off, and I don’t want her to only see me as a Bratva boss. I want her to get to know me first, and then I can slowly ease her into the rest.
Parking along the curb, I jump out and race up the stairs. When I don’t see her, I sigh and run my hand through my hair. I’m just about to run to check the bus stop when I see movement from the corner of my eye. Turning, I see her sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees, head tucked down, resting against the bronze lion outside the main doors. She looks so fucking small and sad, not like she’s a little bummed out at being stood up, but more like she’s genuinely hurt by it, and it kills me to see it, to know that I was the cause of it.
“Evie,” I yell, running over to her.
She discreetly runs a finger under her glasses like she’s been crying, and it just turns that knife a little more in my chest. I kneel down in front of her, waiting for her soft-brown eyes to meet mine. It takes her a few seconds, but when she does, I curse my own negligence for letting my phone die, because she’s definitely been crying, even though she’s trying like hell to hide it.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. Something came up with work, and then my damn phone died.” I sigh because this just sounds like excuse after excuse. “I’m really sorry,” I repeat, hoping she can hear how much I mean it.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. You thought I’d stood you up. I hurt your feelings, and I’m truly sorry.”
She seems surprised by my words, and when she turns her head to avoid my gaze, I see the dark bruise that covers her cheek. Without even thinking, I reach out and gently hook a finger under her chin, tilting her face to the side so I can get a better look.
“That bastard hit you, didn’t he?”
“What?” She tries to jerk her head away, but I tighten my grip, holding her in place but being careful to not hurt her. “I just ran into something at work,” she whispers.
I bring my other hand up, running my thumb gently over her bruised skin, knowing I’m going to be paying her lousy father a visit very soon. She sucks in a quick breath at my touch, her face and neck turning a deep shade of red, and I know she’s completely oblivious to how beautiful she is.
“Look at me, Evie.”
I wait until she turns her eyes back to mine. Mine soften when I see the embarrassment and shame in hers.
“I’m not going to make you admit it, but I’m not stupid. I know that bastard hits you, and I want you to promise me that you’ll text me if you need me. I don’t care what time it is. Will you promise me that?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
Knowing that’s as good as I’m going to get right now, I run my thumb over her soft skin one last time before holding my hand out for hers.
“Come on, you must be starving.”
She hesitates for just a minute before putting her much smaller hand in mine and letting me pull her to standing. Her coveralls must be stuffed in her bag, and it’s the first time I’ve seen her with her hair down. I like it. I have the sudden urge to run my fingers through it to see if it’s as silky as it looks. Images of her riding me with her hair falling down, caressing my chest in waves while she works her hips run through my brain, surprising me with the intensity and vividness of them. My cock immediately perks up, and I have to push the images away before I really scare the hell out of her with a painfully obvious erection.
Grabbing her bag, she slings it over her shoulder, a smile playing at her lips when she realizes I’m not letting her hand go. There’s something so unbelievably sweet and innocent about her, something I haven’t been around in a very long time.
When I open the passenger side door for her, she hesitates and looks around. “Where are we going?”
“A small diner a few streets over. It has the best food around. We can walk, but it’ll take a while.”
She thinks for a second and then shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. We can drive.”
I smile and help her get in before shutting the door and walking to the driver’s side.
“This really is a beautiful car,” she says and then gives me a small smile. “I can’t believe I hit it. I’m really sorry about that.”
“I’m not. If you hadn’t hit me, then I never would’ve met you.”
She blushes and looks away, but not before I see the smile on her face. Easing out into the morning traffic, I ask her how her night was.
“The same as usual. It’s not a bad job. I mean, I get to listen to audiobooks, and I really like my coworker. Jerry’s a great guy.”
An immediate stab of jealousy hits me. Who the fuck is this Jerry guy who gets to spend every night with her?
“Oh yeah? Has he been working there long with you?” I ask, trying to sound curious but not too curious.
