Page 4 of Ruined

The thing about spending years as an agent was, it made him entirely too good at lying. Gable had known exactly where to find Cutler. He had since the moment Cutler returned from the cruise two weeks ago. Gable had just been trying to decide the best way to arrange an organic-looking meeting. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted from this. He found Cutler incredibly hot. Gable had a feeling the guy was intelligent and interesting. He just wanted to see more. Plus, that goddamn kiss. Wow.

Still, he used the five-minute drive to berate himself for immediately inviting the manback to his place. He honestly wanted to know why Cutler had been inside the CIA headquarters and in Alabama, of all places. But he totally understood not being able to talk about work in public. Next to no one knew anything about him, and it would always be that way. That hard truth made it impossible to have a genuine relationship. He wanted someone he could be real with.

As Gable turned into his driveway, the garage door slid open. He pulled into one bay before jumping out and hitting the button on the second so Cutler could park next to his bike. The doors slowly closed as Cutler climbed from his motorcycle and pulled off his helmet. He walked a circle around Gable’s Harley.

“Damn. That’s badass.”

Gable’s chest expanded with pride and spilled into his smile. “Thanks. It’s my midlife crisis mobile.”

Cutler barked out a loud laugh that made the ridiculous statement worthwhile. “Surely you have awhile for that yet.”

Gable shrugged. “Between the tattoos and the bike, my mom keeps asking what I’ll have left to do when I start worrying about growing old. I tell her I’m already old and then she punches me in the arm.”

Cutler’s smile never dimmed. “Good for her. Tell her to hit you from me too next time. If you think you’re old, I can’t imagine what you think of me.”

“I don’t even know how old you are.”

Cutler’s eyes flashed with humor and intelligence. “Liar. I guarantee you know everything about me you could possibly dig up. Otherwise, you never would’ve invited me to your home.”

“True.” Gable motioned for Cutler to follow him inside. He spoke over his shoulder as hewent. “With that said, there’s not much to be found about you. It’s almost like you didn’t even exist before twenty years ago.”

“That’s because I didn’t.”

Gable toed off his shoes inside the back door. Cutler followed his lead and pulled off his boots. Gable led him to the kitchen table. He didn’t continue until they were seated, and he could watch every nuance of Cutler’s expression. Gable was good at his job. He could read anyone. “If you didn’t exist, then who are you?”

A way too sexy smile touched Cutler’s lips. He looked deadly in that moment in a way Gable never expected. While he knew exactly what Cutler did for a living, this was the first time he recognized he stared at a killer. When he spoke, an entirely different accent emerged. “Cheslav Makarov.” His voice automatically returned to perfect flatAmerican. “But I haven’t been that person in a long time.”

Gable’s mind stuttered for a moment. “Why do I know that name?”

Cutler stood. “That’s probably my cue.”

The memory struck. “Holy shit. You’re the son of Antinko Momarov.”

Cutler looked uncomfortable and ready to bolt.

Gable motioned toward the seat Cutler had vacated. “Sit. It’s fine. I’m surprised, of course, but if you’re here and you were allowed to walk in and freely walk out of CIA headquarters, I assume you’re nothing like him.”

Despite still looking unsure, Cutler sat. “It’s okay if you don’t want me here. I’m very accustomed to being the only son of Russia’s most feared mafia leader. I’ve seen and donea lot of terrible things, but I’m not him, nor could I stop him.”

Gable was fascinated. “But you did, right? Didn’t you testify against him?”

Cutler gave a jerky nod. It was obvious he expected Gable to reject him at any moment. “He hurt children, and I could never. The things he did and helped others do were unspeakable. So, I did what I had to do and then I was smuggled to America by a connection in California.”

“Zander Kapra.” Gable couldn’t keep the know-it-all out of his voice. Everyone knew who ran the west coast, and they were lucky it was a good man. Zander also had a hard-on for destroying all things child sex crime related. The guy would help Cutler. In fact, he could protect him in ways no government ever could. No one had even known what Antinko’s son looked like. Antinko had kept his only child secreted awayfrom the public eye. Gable had also been a child back in the day of Cutler taking him down, so there was zero chance he would have recognized him. He had so many questions, he didn’t know where to start.

“Why were you at CIA headquarters the day we met?”

Cutler shrugged. “I was taking a road trip when Zander asked me to meet with a friend of his at the agency. You know what I do. He wanted me to do it for him.”

It was funny the way they skirted around the fact that he killed people. “You must’ve lived an interesting life.”

A laugh burst from Cutler. “Damn. Just call me old next time.”

Gable had to concede that comment had sounded like something he would say to a grandparent. “I didn’t mean it like that. Yourlife has just been very diverse. I can’t imagine all the things you’ve seen.”

Cutler’s smile fell. “You don’t want to imagine the things I’ve seen.” His expression immediately shifted again, as if becoming someone new. “But what about you? That swim time a couple of weeks ago was impressive as hell.”

A swell of pride rose inside Gable. It was out of his control. He didn’t get praised often. “Top of my class,” Gable admitted with a chuckle. He looked around. “So, I’d planned a disgustingly cheesy homemade mac-n-cheese for lunch, but I can make sandwiches if you’d prefer.”

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