The sound of a car approaching startles us both. Before I can even sit up, Sasha is at the window looking out. He turns to me, his beautiful mouth turned down in a scowl.
"It's kind of late for your neighbor Pavel to be visiting, isn't it?"
12
ALEKSANDR
I'm already pulling on my jeans before Maya can process what's happening. The headlights cut through the darkness outside, and every instinct I have screams that this visit isn't social. Not at this hour.
"Stay here," I tell her, my voice harder than I intend.
"Like hell." She's out of bed too, yanking on clothes with quick, efficient movements. Her hands shake slightly as she buttons her jeans, and I notice the way the denim hugs the curve of her ass even as my mind catalogs exits and potential threats.
I grab my shirt from the floor and pull it on. Pavel's truck sits in the driveway, engine still running, exhaust visible in the cold air. He's alone, but something about his body language sets my teeth on edge. He keeps looking over his shoulder, back toward the road, like he expects someone to follow.
"He looks scared," Maya says quietly, appearing at my side. Her shoulder brushes mine, and even through the layers of clothing, I feel the contact like a brand.
"He looks like he's about to bolt." I watch Pavel climb out of the truck, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. "Something's wrong."
The knock comes hard and fast, urgent. Maya moves toward the door, but I catch her wrist, pulling her back against my chest. She fits there perfectly, all soft curves against hard muscle, and my body responds despite the situation.
"Let me," I say against her ear, feeling her shiver.
"It's my cabin."
"And I'm the one with violent instincts, remember?" I release her and cross to the door, positioning myself to the side before opening it. Old habit. One that suggests I've answered doors expecting bullets before.
Pavel practically falls inside, his wire-rimmed glasses askew, his face pale and sweating despite the cold. His pale blue eyes dart between Maya and me, lingering on her disheveled hair and flushed cheeks. The jealousy that flashes across his face is almost comical.
Almost.
"Pavel, what's wrong?" Maya steps forward, concern overriding caution. "It's almost midnight."
"I had to warn you." He's breathing hard like he ran here instead of driving. "There were men in town today. After you left. Asking questions."
The temperature in the room drops about twenty degrees. Maya goes rigid beside me, and I feel the fear rolling off her in waves.
"What kind of questions?" My voice comes out cold, controlled. A command voice. The kind that expects immediate answers.
Pavel's eyes snap to me, and I see him register the change in my demeanor. Good. He should be nervous.
"They were asking questions. About a blonde woman, but also about who else might be around." He adjusts his glasses with trembling fingers.
"I'll make coffee," Maya says quietly, her voice steadier than her hands. "We should sit down."
She moves toward the kitchen without waiting for agreement, and I watch her go, noting the slight tremor in her movements. When I turn back to Pavel, I gesture toward the dining table with a subtle tilt of my head. He hesitates, then shuffles over, pulling out a chair like he's moving through water.
I remain standing until Maya returns with three mugs, the rich smell of coffee filling the space between us. She sets them down with careful precision, then takes the chair across from Pavel, leaving the head of the table for me. I sit, my body still coiled tightly, but the simple act of sitting, of drinking coffee, creates a thin veneer of civility over the tension crackling through the room.
"Now," I say, wrapping my hands around the warm mug, "tell us everything."
Pavel takes a shaky sip of coffee, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I was at the general store and two men pulled up in a black SUV. Expensive. Not the kind of vehicle you see around here."
"What did they look like?" I lean forward, every muscle in my body tensing.
"Professional. Dark suits. One was tall, maybe six-two, with a scar on his jaw. The other was shorter, stockier. They went inside and started asking Earl questions."
Maya's hand trembles as she sets down her mug. I want to reach for her, pull her close, but I need to hear this first.
