I step back, watching him sag into the ropes, sobbing now that his heart has slowed enough to let the tears come. “Now, ifyou continue the investigation into the Petrovs, I will make you watch me kill everyone you love, and I promise your death will be the slowest, understand?”
He shakes, unable to say another word, when all he can do is pathetically sob. I turn and leave, the sound of his ugly, broken crying following me until the door shuts.
The shadows outside swallow me whole, and my thoughts are already far from Tyler Richards.
I’m going straight to her.
To my Lily. My wife.
21
ALEKSANDR
Gwen hasto convince me to take a shower before Lily is released. I tortured and almost killed the DA around two in the morning, and she couldn’t be processed out until eight. I would’ve stood outside in the freezing February air if it meant finally holding her in my arms again.
But Gwen said I smelled like blood and sweat, and that would be more concerning than a clean man with his wife's favorite takeout, Miss Ming's egg rolls with Beef Lo Mein and those fried donuts with sugar all over, along with a large homemade ice tea and a bouquet of white and blue roses.
Miss Ming damn near tore me a new one when I woke her up at six this morning, but she quickly adjusted herself when I said it was for Lily, and even smiled when I handed her a wad of hundred dollar bills as big as my fist as a thank you for the inconvenience.
I look down at my watch and it is 8:03, which means she should be out in my arms already, and my impatience makes me more angry than giddy. The precinct wouldn’t let me sit in the waiting area since it’s so small, and there aren’t enough officers on dutyto monitor prisoners and visitors, or at least that’s what they told me. Right when I am about to say fuck it and go inside she comes out.
Wearing the cute as fuck yellow overalls, Ugg boots and white thermal sweater that Gwen brought to her. She freezes when she sees me and for I second I think she is pissed, hating me, and wanting to rip my fucking head off for getting her into this mess. I think she is going to scream at me and demand a divorce that I won’t give her easily. But fuck—if it makes her happy, if she truly wants it—I will, even if it kills me.How could I ever be the reason she suffers? I couldn’t be that selfish with her. I love her too much.
I swallow, opening my arms to her and she squeals like a teenage girl at a boy band concert and runs to me at full speed. In pure Lily fashion, she stumbles on some black ice and I have to catch her, dragging her into my arms, and fuck I missed this. I missed her.
“Aleksandr,” she sighs into my chest, her face pressed against me like she’s inhaling me, “you smell delicious.”
I laugh into her hair, curling an arm around her and pulling her in tighter. Her curls have fallen in loose, messy spirals, and she’s pulled the rest back into a messy bun with what looks like a shoestring. My fingers toy with the end of it. “That’s Miss Ming’s,” I murmur against her temple.
“Oh my god—” she yelps, jerking back so fast she almost hits her head on the doorframe.
Before she can retreat completely, I reach past her, grab one of the egg rolls, heavy with duck sauce, and hold it out. She snatches it like it’s the only thing keeping her aliveand immediately crams an obscene amount into her mouth. Watching her shove half an egg roll between her lips makes my cock twitch with need, and I growl before I can help it.
Her moan follows, soft and indulgent, and that does me in. My hands flex against my thighs, a sharp breath pulling through my nose.
“This is so—” she tries to talk, but it’s muffled. Her big golden-hazel eyes snap to mine, cheeks full, sauce glossing her lips. She tilts her head with that scrunched-up nose that makes her look so unrepentantly stubborn. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she manages around a mouthful.
“Why are you making those noises?” My voice comes out lower than I intend, my gaze dragging over her lips.
“The food is good,” she says with a grin that only deepens as she crams the rest of the egg roll into her mouth, her hands wiping against her overalls as she chews. She sways slightly, as if she can’t decide whether to get closer or bolt.
“I know other things that are good,” I say slowly. I step forward into her space, close enough that her back bumps against the car.
Her eyes go wild. She swallows so hard I see the movement in her throat, and she stumbles one step to the side, holding her hands up like a shield. “No. Absolutely not.” She shakes her head hard, her curls bouncing.
“Are you telling me no, Moya?” My hand snakes out to catch the car door handle. I lean into it casually, blocking her path. The smile tugging at my mouth is sharp and dangerous.
“I need to shower first, Alek,” she blurts out, pointing at me with one hand still sticky from duck sauce. “Two days without one,and that shower wasbad. I’ve been doing bird baths. Pits, vag, and ass, nothing else. We can’t?—”
“We can,” I interrupt, my other hand pressing lightly to the small of her back as I pull the door open.
“Aleksandr—” She tries to edge around me, but I shift my body, caging her in with the car door and my chest.
“Are you safe wording me?” I ask, tilting my head, my voice velvet over steel.
“What? No!” Her brows slam together, and she looks at me like I’m crazy.
“Then get in the car, Lily,” I murmur, leaning in until my chest nearly brushes hers. Close enough that I feel the quick hitch of her breath against my shirt, close enough that she has to tip her chin up, her lips parting as she tries to keep her eyes on mine. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”
