Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
“Yeah. It was a couple of weeks ago.” I have no trouble placing myself in danger, though. “Now I’m the only one single and ready to mingle.”
“Oh.” This is a different “oh” from his earlier one. It is the one of a man suddenly interested in what I am endeavoring to sell him.
When his eyes lower to my left hand to authenticate my claim as if he’s heard differently, I slip it behind my back before trying to remove the diamond ring that’s fit so snug I’d have a better chance of removing it if I had a hacksaw.
Boris is smarter than he looks. “I should go. Take care of yourself, Zoya.”
I thwart his exit with a shameful plea. “Can I get a lift, please? It’s freezing out here, Boris, and you are the only one capable of saving me.” I want to gag when my voice is similar to the one Aleena used to convince Andrik’s security guards to leave their post, but its effectiveness keeps my cringe on the down-low. “Can you help me, Boris? Please.”
“I-I shouldn’t. I’m not meant to let anyone know about this gig.” He’s telling me no even with his actions doing the opposite. He looks seconds from scooping my hand into his and asking if he can keep me forever. “It pays well because the materials I distribute are confidential.”
“I won’t tell anyone. It will be our little secret.” When his pants tighten at the front, I scrape my teeth over my lower lip and then fan open my raincoat. Andrik’s shirt would look baggy if I didn’t have Es. “I’m good at keeping secrets, Boris. You can tell me anything and I won’t tell a soul… Not even your mother will know all the wicked things we’ll share.”
The diamonds in my wedding band should announce to him how much of a liar I am, but since he’s a mommy’s boy who will never stop sucking on her bosom without a woman like me forcing him from her tit, he wants to believe me.
“Okay. But you can’t tell anyone about this.”
“I won’t tell a soul,” I promise while following him to the passenger side of the van with my fingers crossed behind my back.
After he removes a handful of invoices that look familiar to the one I paid three nights ago, he gestures for me to enter. Since he is so busy ogling my ass during my climb, I get a glimpse of the “packages” he’s delivering. They don’t look like produce.
“Eyes to the front,” Boris demands when my backside’s plonk into the seat returns his focus to his job.
I hold up my hands as if I am being arrested. “I was just trying to latch my belt.”
My skin quivers when he finds and latches it for me. He smells funky. It isn’t a sweaty smell. It is more chemical based than body odor, and it doubles my assumption that he’s transporting more than fruit and vegetables.
“Where to?” Boris asks after slipping behind the steering wheel, startling me. He moved so fast that I didn’t hear his steps.
It isn’t the time to expose my I-want-you act was a ruse to get a ride, so I reply, “I will direct you once we get closer to Myasnikov.”
He eyes me for several long seconds before he eventually commences our across-territories journey.
72
ANDRIK
As I exit the basement, I scrub Dr. Leverington’s blood off my hands with a rag.
I sense I am being watched half a second before a familiar voice says, “If you tortured him for the whereabouts of Zoya’s mother, you’re wasting your breath.”
I test how much Mikhail knows by saying, “Dina—”
“I wasn’t talking about Dina.” He arches a brow and stares me dead set in the eyes. “Though she will get hers,” he snarls, “when I find her.” His expression softens again. “I was talking about my mother, the woman who birthed both Zoya and me.” He takes in my bloodstained clothes and sweat-dotted hair. “When the pieces started falling into place and I realized how fucked up this situation was, I found her and moved her to a safe location.” A scoff rustles his hair sitting flopped across his eye since it is overdue for a trim. “I can’t believe all this time she was in the same town as me.”
“Not always,” I advise, lessening his guilt. “According to him”—I nudge my head to the stairwell of the basement like there is only one body down there—“they moved her from location to location to keep her hidden. She’s traveled the globe over the past thirty years and birthed numerous children.”
“Including Zakhar.”
He looks set to go on a rampage. To hunt down the people who kept his mother hidden from him, but there’s more to this story than he knows. Stuff that will flip his life plan on its head. But right now, my focus can’t be on him. I have far more pressing matters to attend to, so I keep my reply brief.