Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Swearing silently at himself, Alexei dragged his sad carcass into his bathroom, where he winced at his reflection. He hadn’t taken too many punches, but he was a mess of dirt, sweat, and blood. His poor hair was standing in every direction, and his pupils were blown wide. His heart had only recently slowed to a somewhat normal pace.
When he’d seen Soren surrounded, he’d stopped breathing as he reached for his gun. Every instinct had screamed to protect him, save him, which made zero sense. He was being paid to kill this man.
And yet, he had brought the man to his apartment again—though this time it was with the intention of patching him up. He’d saved his life with no thought of killing him later.
Gripping the edge of the white porcelain sink, Alexei bowed his head and clenched his teeth against the scream rising up in his chest. This was wrong. It was all wrong. This was breaking all the rules. Soren was a target. A mark. He wasn’t a man. He wasn’t a person he was supposed to worry about.
No feelings. Numb. He had to be numb inside.
When the worst of the panic subsided, he sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes, staring at his busted-up knuckles. Moving almost mechanically, he quickly washed his hands and face, then bandaged up his fingers.
By the time he was finished, all his emotions were tightly packaged up again. He grabbed his first aid kit along with some mild painkillers and carried them into the bedroom. Soren hadn’t stirred from where he’d left him. He was propped up on a mound of pillows, so he was mostly sitting upright. His clothes were splattered with blood. Sweat and dried blood also streaked his face. His left eye was swelling some, and his poor bottom lip was busted.
Just looking at him caused all the emotions he’d neatly packed away to break out of their box and wash over him again. With them came the mocking laughter of his grandfather. Nicolai Krestyanov had hated him. He was always “Too small, too weak, too delicate. Worthless. Not a real Krestyanov. Not a man.”
The loud crinkle of plastic drew Alexei’s gaze down to his hands, where he was tightly clenching his fingers around the first aid kit. He was shaking.
Fuck it. And fuck Nicolai Krestyanov.
He knew of no better man than his Uncle Gabriel, formerly Viktor Krestyanov. No one was more lethal, and he loved a man. He loved and laughed and cuddled a pair of cats like they were his babies.
Alexei was not less because of who he was. He could do this and still be himself. He’d proved it more than two dozen times already, and he could do it again.
Feeling more in control, he crossed the room and set up what he could on the nightstand and other items on the bed next to Soren. Of course, the large man was in the middle of the queen-sized mattress, and Alexei wouldn’t be able to reach everything without climbing onto it with him. And he really didn’t want to think about being in his bed with Soren right now.
With the first touch of the soft cloth to his face, Soren jerked awake. He gasped, sucked in a harsh breath, and pulled away from Alexei before his eyes could even focus on him. But then, he couldn’t go far. When Alexei had gotten Soren into the bed, he’d handcuffed the man’s hands together through the solid wood headboard.
“What—” he started, his voice rough.
“It’s okay. You’re safe,” Alexei said. When it seemed like Soren wasn’t going to move, he began cleaning the cuts on his face while trying to ignore the piercing blue eyes that were now very clear and watching him.
“That’s a relative term. Safe.”
It was all he could do to not roll his eyes. “Can we not talk for a few minutes? You’re a mess.”
“I can do—” Soren stopped speaking when he tried to move and jerked against the handcuffs restraining him.
Okay, that questioning glare made Alexei smile. “I told you, I’m not chasing after you again. You can’t be trusted. When you leave my sight, you get into trouble.”
He almost cackled when the glare sharpened so he could nearly feel it slicing through flesh.
“Trust?” Soren started, but Alexei gently pressed a finger to his lips, stopping anything else.
“Do you really want to go down that road? You’re a cat burglar. I’m an assassin. Neither of us was particularly forthcoming about our careers. But I did save your ass twice now. Let’s leave it at that.” Alexei removed his finger and resumed his work of cleaning Soren’s face.
“How did you find me?” Soren asked quietly.
“I put a tracker on you.”
“What?” he squawked, and Alexei cackled. “You let me escape.”
With a roll of his eyes, he confessed the truth. “No. I didn’t let you escape. I’ve never tried to keep a prisoner. I usually just…” He broke off and pantomimed shooting himself in the head with his hand in the shape of a gun. “I’ve definitely not tried to keep a professional cat burglar. I figured if you escaped, I’d want to be able to find you quickly.”