Page 20 of Red

Lifting an ax, I can see every muscle in his back and arms flex. They ripple with every small movement that he makes. Once he releases it to chop the wood, I see each bead of sweat rolling down his chest, then his abs, making its way down to the vee that leads to his waistband. My thighs clench when I think about licking the sweat off of him. Zeev looks up and sees me ogling him through the glass door. I step outside into the brisk morning. Zeev moves closer to me.

“Good morning, Red. Did you dream of anything exciting?”

A sharp laugh leaves my body, and the intense sexual tension dissipates. Through a smile, I chuckle out, “No, I didn’t dream of anything. Just nice black oblivion.”

Giving a quick wink before I let my vulnerability take over, I continue with, “It’s a rare thing for me to dream about nothing. Usually, it’s just a playback of the night when my parents were killed.”

Ignoring the sensitive state I’ve put myself in, he responds, “That’s good. You needed the rest. Let me finish chopping up this wood. We wouldn’t want you getting too cold. If you’re hungry, there’s food in the kitchen. Feel free to help yourself.”

Nodding, I walk back into the kitchen and leave Zeev to finish up the wood without me staring at him. My stomach growls and needing to eat, I check out the kitchen. Walking towards the counter, I turn the coffee machine on and the aroma fills the kitchen. I love the way coffee smells. Pouring myself a coffee, I want to thank Zeev for his kindness. I bet he would love my famous coffee cake. Everyone loves coffee cake, it brings back great memories of Maria and me baking together.

Not wanting to get too sentimental, I go over to the pantry grabbing the dry ingredients that are needed, lining them up on the counter in the order that they go in the recipe. Looking through the cabinets, I find the mixing bowls and measuring spoons. As I turn to move toward the fridge, Zeev walks back in from chopping wood. Looking over at him over the door, he asks “What are you making?”

“I’m making coffee cake, I wanted to thank you for your kindness. Plus it was my Grandpa’s favorite cake.”

Nodding, he retorts as he walks out of the room.

“I’m going to go clean up.”

Returning to the fridge, I grab the milk, butter, and eggs and place them on the counter next to the dry ingredients. I love to make sure that I have everything out and organized. It helps to make the cake faster and for easy cleanup. Pouring the dry ingredients into the mixing bowl, Zeev walks back into the kitchen, looking as handsome as ever. Coming up next to me in the kitchen, he quietly asks, “What are you doing here, Red?”

“Right now, I just put the dry ingredients into the bowl and next I’ll mix all the wet ingredients,” I say, licking my lips and emphasizing ‘wet’.

He gives me a sly smile ignoring my comment and moves on to the next question, “Why did you decide to make a coffee cake instead of a different type?”

As I mix all the ingredients, I answer. “Coffee cake was the first cake I learned how to make when I was younger. Plus it’s my Grandpa’s favorite. When it was time to bake, Maria would ask me what I wanted to make and my answer was always coffee cake.”

Pouring the cake into a pan, I decided to ask Zeev a question of my own, “What was your favorite cake when you were a child?”

His reply comes quickly. “I didn’t eat cake when I was younger. My foster families never celebrated anything. Being a foster kid, I didn’t get invited to parties either.”

A sadness comes over me, not sure how to respond. I can’t picture any kid not having cake. I look over at him.

“Well this will be your first cake, and you’ll love it.”

He responds honestly, “I’m sure it will be because my Red made it.”

Placing the cake into the oven and setting the timer, his phone rings. He glances down at his phone and walks out the back door muttering, “I have to take this.”

Waiting for Zeev and the cake to finish, curiosity about the man I’ve been spending my time with grips me. I go to explore the house. I come across two bedrooms, one of them being an office. Gravitating towards the shelves in the office, I notice that Zeev has a lot of books. Looking over the titles, none of them is anything I would read. These are more history and I’m more of a romance novel kind of girl.

Out of the corner of my eye, a picture grabs my attention. Examining the picture closer, it's of a little boy with two men. All of them are smiling at the camera causing a smile to come to my face. I assume the boy is a young Zeev and one of the older gentlemen looks like my grandfather, which would leave the other man as Zeev’s father. I get closer and I can see the similarities between Zeev and the man. They both have the same eyes and smile. The more I look at it, I’m convinced that I’m right. That is his dad.

Wondering what his father was like when he was alive, was he like my Grandpa? A gentle giant but willing to protect those they care about. Zeev seems to be like that a little bit, which makes me think his father was similar. Tracing my fingers over the picture, a wave of grief washes over me.

I still don’t understand my grandmother’s motives for her decision to kill everyone. I have so many questions. Questions that I’m not sure I’ll ever get the real answer for either. Taking a deep breath, I turn and see Zeev leaning against the door looking sexy as hell.

Chapter 14

Zeev

Coming back inside from my phone call, the office's light is on and the door is open. I see Blanche standing by the bookshelf and looking down at something in her hand. I love the way she looks, she belongs here. I’m going to do whatever I can do to keep her right next to me. When I step towards her, I see that she’s looking at a picture of me when I was younger with my father and her grandfather.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. That day was when my dad told me that I would start training to take over for him when he died. That I would continue our legacy within The Wolves. I would continue to serve Le Parrain or the godfather. I was so proud that day. Growing up, all I wanted was to prove myself to both men.

My father was considered le caïd, or second in command in Le Milieu. I knew from a young age that I would take over for my father. I had to learn to control my emotions and to always be aware of the bigger picture. That every choice had a consequence and some were worse than others. In the Le Milieu, kids start training for their job at a young age. That way when it's time to take over from the generation before, they are already hardened and show no weakness.

What I don’t understand is why Blanche’s family kept her in the dark. She seems so confused and lost the more she learns about who her family is. I wonder what her grandmother was thinking. It’s hard to speculate what the plan could have possibly been. I assume her plan was to marry Blanche off to Nicholas, for him to run The Wolves. They probably hoped that Blanche would just obey with no complaints. Well, that just shows how little her grandmother knows her. I’ve only known her for a few days and can tell that she’s not one to just obey without explanation. She’s not one to just lie down and take anything.

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