“You’re an angel, Joyce. Thank you.”
This time I’m positive her cheeks heat up before she smiles and goes back to the galley. I watch her walk away, trying to decide if she knows what we do for a living. If nothing else, she has to be suspicious. She was hired by a tattooed guy with a thick Russian accent. It’s painfully obvious we’re not some American dynasty family, living it up on old money from wise financial decisions our ancestors made. We’re criminals, and if the way we look wasn’t clue enough, then surely the ironclad NDAs we have them sign and the strict rules we have about not asking questions and not touching certain pieces of luggage certainly would be.
Joyce and Marvin have never seemed to mind, though. They take our cues from us. We treat them with respect, and they mirror it right back to us. Our family rewards loyalty, and their bank accounts would certainly attest to that. Apparently, that’s good enough for them, and I have no doubt they’re going to love the retirement they eventually choose to take. We all know it’ll be way better than the one the government was giving them.
Drinking my Coke, I put on a set of headphones and turn on the flat-screen TV that’s mounted across from us. We’ve all added our favorite movies, and after I’ve scrolled through all the kid stuff and ‘80s comedies that are always a crowd favorite, I settle on an action movie that’s filled with enough explosions and gunfire to entertain me on a very basic level. I just need something to focus on that doesn’t require any real thought, something to take my mind off the family we’re about to spend a few weeks with.
It doesn’t work. The closer we get, the more insistent Sitka’s face becomes in my mind, forcing me to think about her, toremember how beautiful she is, how smart, and how so very off-limits she is.
“How you holding up?” Ev asks from where he’s still sprawled on the couch. He woke up about thirty minutes ago, sweet-talked Joyce into bringing over a tray of brownies, and has been silently working his way through them while watching the newest movie I’d put on.
“I’m fine,” I say, refusing to turn my head when I see him look over at me.
“Don’t forget our code word.”
“I’m not saying Pop-Tart, Ev, and it won’t be necessary anyway. Nothing can happen between us.”
“Why not? Everyone is fine with Max and Talia.”
I finally turn to look at him. “That was entirely different. Max and Talia were kidnapped and held together. Max let them destroy his hand to protect her. There was no way they could say no to that marriage after everything that happened. Plus, Talia’s dad is different. He’s level-headed, but Sitka’s isn’t like that and we both know it.”
“He can’t be that bad,” Ev tries to argue.
“When they met our family, who did her dad and brothers bond with?” I ask. When he stays quiet, I keep pushing. “Who did they choose to hang out with?”
“Sasha,” he admits while I nod my head.
“And what does that tell us?” I ask.
His mouth quirks up. “I’m the one studying to be a lawyer, but I think you would’ve made a good one.”
I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, watching me try to bullshit my way around the bar exam would be fucking hilarious.”
“No, it’d be impressive as hell,” he corrects. “You’d have all the info memorized by then.”
I cringe at the thought of trying to struggle through a sentence in front of a roomful of the best and brightest andquickly push the uncomfortable image away. “Her dad and brothers are crazy, like Sasha’s brand of crazy,” I say, getting back to the point I’d been making. “They won’t want me anywhere near Sitka, and they’ll probably try to gut me if I try.”
Ev stretches his legs and sets aside the empty plate. “Well, I’m guessing that’s not going to stop you, so don’t forget to use Pop-Tart when you want some time alone. I can also run distraction with her brothers, keep them busy so you can make your move.”
“Don’t think they won’t try to kill you too.”
He glances over at me, and I see a flash of who he really is before he gives me a lazy smile and turns back into Ev, the harmless college student. “I can handle myself, Damien. You don’t need to worry about me.”
I know he’s right, and the harmless façade he so easily hides behind will never fool me. I know what he’s capable of. He may not be insane like Sasha, but he’s just as good at being a chameleon when he needs to be. It’s a skill that’ll be put to good use once he becomes a lawyer. No one will have the faintest idea that a member of one of the most dangerous Bratvas in the world is right in their midst.
Even though I know he can take care of himself, I still feel the need to say, “I know, but there’s no reason to make trouble if we don’t have to.” I sigh and scrub a hand over my face, feeling the stubble that I was too lazy to shave this morning. “This is not even worth talking about. She’s never shown an ounce of interest in me.”
“This is the first time you’ll be spending any real length of time around her since she turned eighteen,” he reminds me.
“I don’t think that’s going to change anything.”
The smirk he gives me makes me want to punch him. “I’m guessing it’s going to change everything.” His smile turns downright gleeful when he adds, “As your soon-to-be lawyer, Igive you the go-ahead. Sitka is now officially legal in all fifty states.”
The bastard’s smile grows when I accidentally laugh. “You’re such an ass,” I tell him. “And none of this matters anyway. She might have a boyfriend for all I know.”
“Well, like you said, her dad and brothers would never allow that.”
“Yeah, but you think they’d just let me slide right in?”
