Page 3 of Innocent Bratva Virgin

Looking up at him after reading the message, I smiled gently. There was something about Nikolai’s expression that was so open. It was so different from most of the patients that I’d sat in with. As much as I knew that quite a bit was still locked up behind his golden eyes, Nikolai was being abundantly honest about not enjoying the suffering of others. And I could make an informed guess that it was because he’d suffered himself.

If the tall, dark, and handsome hadn’t already sold him to me, the genuine, tortured part most certainly did.

Goddamn, I have such a type.

Time flew by for the rest of the evening, filled with humorous exchanges that left both of us in stitches. Nikolai was funny and intelligent, and we were getting along so much better than I ever would have imagined.

Finishing off my last beer, I sat the bottle back on the bar and smiled at Nikolai. As I took his phone to send one more message, my fingers sloppy for the buzz flowing in my veins, I was a little at a loss for what I wanted to do next. We’d hada blast hanging out over the past two hours, but where exactly were we supposed to go from here?

As I paused with his phone, Nikolai reached for it, typing up his own message before I could. I waited as he wrote, my heart pounding too hard and my head a little fuzzy.

When he cleared his throat and got my attention again, I looked up at him to see Nikolai extending the phone. The look on his face was something else—penetrating and dark. It took me a moment to flick my stare down to the screen and read over what he’d typed.

“I don’t want this to stop. But I don’t want to stay at this bar. Will you come with me? For the night?”

I swallowed hard. There it was. But damn, this was a much more attractive version of “wanna get out of here.” I wasn’t shitfaced by any means, and it had been a long time since anyone had paid this kind of attention to me.

A different kind of nervous energy zinged through me. I looked between the phone and Nikolai, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard to deliver my answer.

You only live once, Emory. And it’s about time you actually enjoy yourself a little.

It took half a second to answer him, and I slid over Nikolai’s phone as I stood up from my stool, snagging my purse.

“Yes.”

Chapter 2 - Vlad

At some point, I would get used to the fact that Emory was so beautiful. At some point, I was going to remind myself that this was a terrible fucking idea and that I’d never gone this far into an “exchange” with a woman without telling her I didn’t speak.

But that time was not now.

Emory stood up off her stool and slid me the phone. As soon as I read the message, I got out of my chair and followed tightly behind her.This is not where I saw this evening going.

I’d just wanted to get a few drinks before heading back to the house, but when I saw that asshole trying to slip a pill into Emory’s drink, I had to do something. Something that included grabbing him by the collar and hoisting his sorry ass out the door with a hard shove.

Things had sort of spiraled after that. I’d bought Emory a new drink, and being that close to her had gone straight to my head like she was the tall drink of scotch and I’d just taken a massive shot.

I just couldn’t bring myself to interrupt the electricity we’d created with the mute thing. It always put the breaks on anything I had going with someone, and the interaction became about sympathy instead of connection.

Not what I’m going for.

Introducing myself on the phone as Nikolai had just happened, too. I sometimes used my middle name as a cover, but there was no call for it now. It’s not like Emory had any idea who the Unholy Trinity was or that I was a part of them.

She would never know me as the Unholy Ghost or Vlad. Tonight, the natural way we’d come together had been all about Nikolai and his distinct lack of a tragic backstory. I was content to keep it that way.

As we walked quietly outside, I trailed just behind Emory, hoping she’d lead the way to her car. It was going to be tricky as fuck to keep up the “no talking” now that I didn’t have the cover of the loud bar, and I hoped I could get by with the few non-committal noises I was willing to make.

“Did you drive?” Emory asked as she looked back over her shoulder at me.

I shook my head, giving her an “uh-uh.” Her eyes widened a hair, and then Emory nodded, pointing to her car parked over near the street side of the parking lot.

“Oh, well, we can take mine.”

Smirking—and thoroughly hoping that my eyes could do the talking for me, which they usually could—I held her stare for a moment, creeping up alongside her as she started for her car again. Emory reached inside her purse for her keys, and I quickly snagged them out of her hand.

“Hey!” She smiled at me, playing up her annoyance. “I’m not that drunk. I assure you I’m fine to drive.”

She was. I’d been keeping an eye on her drinking because I wasn’t interested in fucking a nearly unconscious woman, and Emory had been sitting comfortably in the three beers over three hours mark.

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