“What for?”
“What do you think you need those things for, Santiago?” I ask without turning around.
If he hears, he does. If he doesn’t, he’ll quickly figure out why I said to grab a mask as I switch on the gas stoves before going to make sure my brother is still as dead as I left him.
It’s a nightmare of mine. After my father died, him rising out of his coffin was something that haunted me every time I shut my eyes. It’s logical I have the same worry about my evil brother also rising from the dead. Like father, like son and all.
SANTIAGO
I leave Aleksei squatting in front of Sergey as I do another sweep of the bathrooms. Him checking Sergey’s pulse again is as logical as me making sure nothing identifying us is left behind when he’s about to set the building on fire.
Every cell in my body is on edge, and the reason isn’t hard to figure; I can’t see or scent her. And I shouldn't have let her leave without my mark on her. I shouldn’t have let her marry that prick, either, but here we are.
My phone rings, and my mood dips further again. Without checking what phone it is, I already know the call will bring more issues to solve. All I want to do is go to Quinn, and it feels like there’s roadblock after roadblock.
I retrace my steps from the bathroom and am just about to step back out into the restaurant when Aleksei stops me.
“We need to talk.” He grins.
“You’re pointing a gun in my face?” I don’t need to ask. The cool metal of the muzzle on my forehead is answer enough, but my question is still spoken.
“I’ve given you plenty of chances, Santiago, and I’ve let you in on a lot of my plans, yet you still are trying to pretend you don’t have an ulterior driving force.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I hiss back at Aleksei.
He doesn’t say a word as he stares me down. I’m not about to cower or submit, but a man who holds a gun to someone’s forehead obviously needs some sort of answer or resolution.
In the distance, sirens sound at last, and inside the restaurant, there’s the faint hiss of the gas he switched on in the kitchen. He doesn’t fucking blink; he just stares.
I know we could spend the day locked like this, neither of us budging an inch, and it most certainly is about who is moredominant. “You want to do this now? When Quinn and Kade are out there without us?”
He shrugs as a hint of a smirk pulls at his mouth. Slowly, almost gently, because he is fucking toying with me, he taps the muzzle against my forehead. “See, I have an advantage that you don’t. I bit her. I fucked her, and as my reward, I know exactly where she is and what she’s feeling. Kade can see her, and smell her, so he too gets to care for our Omega. But you? You’ve got nothing but your secrets. And that’s why you are going to tell me what that phone call was about.”
“The phone call?” I scoff, knowing full well what call he’s talking about, but he can go fuck himself. “No clue, man.”
He cocks his gun, mocking me with a look and his bad mimicry of my voice. “No clue, man.”
He stops talking and pulls the gas mask down his face, taking a long, deep inhale of clean air while he waits.
My head swims, not from the gas—I mean, that’s not helping—but for the first time ever, my resolve is crumbling. Fast too. I’ve never breathed a word of Trinity to anyone but Ronin and Valentine.
“Just to clarify,” he says slowly, taking a deep breath and smiling even wider as he exhales. “This is about Quinn and nothing else. You and me? I don’t give a shit if you can’t stand one thing about me, but your secrets will put her at risk, and I will keep her safe. We have enough bullshit headed our way without you playing gatekeeper. So, I say again, the phone call?”
The smell of the gas is growing heavier in the air with every word he speaks.
“You don’t think it’s more important to talk about your involvement in kiddie trafficking? It’s fucking disgusting. You’re clearly insinuating you can’t trust me, but how can I trust you with her after you’ve been involved in things like that?”
“You would be a good boxer, always so evasive with your fancy moves,” he says, his Russian accent getting thicker the more resolute he becomes. “If she wasyours,you’d know nothing else matters. Her safety is paramount. Everything else, Santiago, is secondary. My brother is dead because he was secondary. As soon as you start sharing your secrets, we will go deal with all our other secondary issues, but right now, I can’t trust you, so maybe it’s the end of your role in her life.” He goes on, not slowing down or speeding up the way he speaks.
“I see your end so clearly. You pass out from the gas, I’ll be kind and drag you far enough away you survive the explosion, but by then, I will be with her, and you will never see us again. Never. What is that saying, the ball is on your goal?”
“In yourcourt. The ball is in your court.”
He nods slightly when I correct him. His expression is benign, while the message in his eyes is the total opposite.
Jesus, everything he says is so fucking true, though. If our positions were reversed, I’d be doing the same to him. The exact fucking same. But my role, my purpose in life, is also the same as his—protect her at all costs.
I raise my hand slowly, not wanting him to get trigger happy. I tug down the gas mask and start talking.
