Page 19 of Maximus

Reaper agreed from the comms. “You’ll have to give her some version of the truth. The question is, do you trust her? If not, we abort this mission and look for another way to get to Abrasha.”

“My gut tells me to trust her,” Max said as he traced the edge of the fingermarks on her neck.

“Then go with that,” Val said. “She’s awake.”

Max’s eyes flicked up to Elena’s, which were blinking open. “What happened?” She looked from Max to Val and then back to him, clearly confused.

“Someone beat you up,” Max said to her, his fingers still touching her neck. He reached up, pulled his comm device out of his ear, and pocketed it. Con nor the others were invited to that conversation. “He choked you.”

Elena gasped and tried to sit up. She hissed, grabbed her head, and dropped back to the bed. “Artem Sokolov. He wanted to know who you were and why you were in the vault. Who is she?” Elena glanced at Val and then closed her eyes.

“She’s a friend. She, her husband, and others came to help me help you.”

Elena opened her eyes and stared at him. “You aren’t making sense. How did you know Artem Solokov was here?”

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Val’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Call us if you need us.”

CHAPTER 9

Her head hurt, and her neck was sore, but what was more important was how Max looked at her. That was the look her father had given her when he’d told her the family dog had passed. “How did you know about him, Max?”

The woman gave her a small smile, then slipped out the door, shutting it behind her. “She’s very beautiful.”

“Is she?” Max said and shook his head. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Elena closed her eyes. “My head hurts. Please don’t make fun of me or make me ask you again.”

Max took her hand in his. “I’m not making fun of you. Val is a married woman who may be beautiful, but I don’t care. She’s a coworker and a friend. That’s all.” He sighed and said, “I’m not an art dealer.”

She opened her eyes and stared at him. “You are. I’ve read articles, years old.” She put her free hand against her cheek and hissed. “He kicked me in the face.”

“I can see the pattern of his boot on your cheek,” Max said and then cleared his throat. “Your boss is Abrasha Molchalin.”

Elena’s eyes popped open. Her neck seized when she tried to move too quickly. The pain shot a sharp dagger through her brain, and she winced and groaned. “I didn’t tell you that.”

“You didn’t have to. My organization knows you’ve worked for him for the last four years. They sent me to get to him.”

“Get to him? For art?” She was so confused. “I don’t understand.”

“No. I work for a global security entity. Abrasha Molchalin is a wanted criminal.” Max’s voice was steady, unlike hers.

She wanted to cry. In fact, she might be crying. Her cheeks were wet, but she was too sore to care. She closed her eyes again. “My father said he was not a good man.”

“He’s killed a multitude of people and caused the death of countless others. People whose only offense was being in his way. His crimes are beyond any other living being on this planet.” Max’s thumb stroked the back of her hand. She was quiet for a moment before her brain started to patchwork what he was telling her together. So, he didn’t have art to sell. He only wanted …

Dear God, no. He couldn’t be trying to use her, could he? Was she nothing but a commodity, again? Was his affection an act? Had she fallen for yet another great actor but horrible person? She turned her head, wincing, but she wanted to know if she was right. “You’re using me to get to him.” She pulled her hand out of his.

“At first, I was,” Max admitted. “Then, after we met, not so much.”

“What does that even mean?” She rolled away from him. Her body ached, and she wanted to sleep, to wake up and have all of it be a bad dream.

His hand landed on her shoulder, and she was glad for the warmth and the comfort, even if he was a liar.

“It means I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re funny, beautiful, witty, how you see art, the world, life … you’re so special. I realized that almost immediately. You’re different, and how I react to you is different. I don’t have the correct parameters to explain why I clicked with you, but I know I do. I’ve tried to figure out how to bring you out when I’m done here. But I didn’t know if you felt the same way.”

“Parameters?” She closed her eyes. “So romantic.”

“I know it isn’t romantic. But then again, I’m struggling here. In real life, I’m a computer specialist. Remember I told you I wouldn’t be in the art world much longer? I’ll go back to sitting behind my computers.”

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