Page 26 of Bloody Lace

I fumble with my keys with my free hand, getting the key for the front lobby door out. Walking as fast as I dare, I shove it at the lock the moment we reach the door, missing twice before I manage to get the key in with my shaking fingers and twist it. I bolt inside with Buttons, slamming it shut behind me just in time to look over my shoulder and see a man maybe ten yards back, dressed in all black, a balaclava pulled up around his chin and a beanie pulled low over his forehead so that only his eyes, nose, and mouth are visible. He stops, dark eyes meeting mine, and then pivots on his heel, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets as he strides quickly away.

Shit. I feel like I can’t breathe, my hand wrapped so tightly around Buttons’ leash that my fingers have gone numb even inside my thick mittens. “Come on,” I whisper again, as much for myself as for the dog, walking quickly towards the elevator.

I need to call Dimitri. I need to tell him what just happened, even though everything inside of me rebels at the thought. I’ve been taking care of myself my entire adult life without the help of a man, and the last thing I want to do is call my fake fiance and ask him what I’m supposed to do. But I would bet the money he’s going to give me to fix my shop that that man walking behind me had something to do with the Crows, and I’m smart enough to know that I’m in over my head.

I lock the door behind me as soon as I’m in the apartment, latching every single lock on the door, and then, still bundled up, I call Dimitri.

“Evelyn?” He answers on the second ring, his voice cool and calm, a faint curiosity in his tone. “Is everything alright?”

“No.” My voice is shaking, and I feel like my knees might give out. Underneath all of my layers, I can feel sweat prickling across my skin. “I went for a walk. Just a few blocks to this bagel place to get breakfast. Someone was following me home. A man all in black. I didn’t see much of his face—he had dark eyes.” I swallow hard, wondering if I should have called the police instead. But can I even do that, any longer? I’m marrying a man who is part of the Bratva. I’ve willingly entered a different world, one where regular law enforcement can’t help me any longer. And would they even care if I did? I can imagine dozens of women report men following them every day. I doubt they do much more than maybe file a report, and say to be careful.

“Yebat,” Dimitri swears, his voice suddenly harsh and cutting, every word clipped as he keeps speaking. “Are you home now?”

“Yeah.” I swallow hard, leaning back against the door. Next to me, Buttons has laid down on the tile floor, still in his sweater and harness and booties. “We both are. I locked the door?—”

“Stay there. Don’t open the door for anyone until I get there. Do you understand?”

I nod, and then remember that I’m on the phone and he can’t see me. “Yes,” I say in a small voice. “You’re coming here? Now?”

“Yes. What apartment are you?”

“407.” I hadn’t told him before, wanting to keep that much of my own personal life private still, but there’s not really any point now. Besides, as much as I don’t want to admit it, I want him here. I don’t want to be alone right now, and if there’s someone watching my building, I don’t want Dahlia to come by and put herself in danger.

“I’ll be leaving shortly. Don’t go anywhere, don’t answer the door.”

“I heard you.” I strip off my mittens, feeling hot and cold all at once. “I won’t.”

“Good,” he says curtly, and hangs up the phone.

Numbly, I strip out of my coat, taking off Buttons’ things as well. I need something to do, and I go to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, jumping at every small sound that I hear out in the hall.How did this happen?I think to myself as I try to focus on brewing the tea, my fingers trembling and making me drop the packet with the tea bag in it before I finally get it open.How did I get mixed up in all of this?

I thought agreeing to Dimitri’s proposal was the right decision, but maybe I’ve only made everything worse. Maybe I’ve only gotten myself in deeper. But what else was I supposed to do?

The tea, when I finally finish making it, is so hot that I burn the tip of my tongue when I take a sip. At the same moment, a heavy knock comes at my front door, and I let out a startled cry,sending Buttons into a fit of barking and the tea slopping over the edge of the cup. I hiss as it hits the side of my hand, burning me, and drop the mug into the sink, hearing it crack as Dimitri’s voice comes through the front door.

“Evelyn?”

“Just a minute!” I herd Buttons towards the bedroom, not wanting to risk him freaking out on Dimitri. I haven’t actually told Dimitri that I have a dog, or that Buttons will be coming with me, and that’s not a conversation I’m prepared to have right now. I close the bedroom door firmly, hearing Dimitri say my name again, and hurry to the front door to unlock it.

When I open the door, Dimitri is standing outside in chinos, a wool sweater and a heavy peacoat, handsome as a catalog model and looking entirely out of place in the worn hallway of my apartment building. And he’s not alone—next to him is a man who looks very much like the one who was with him the night he came by my shop after it burned, in that every inch of this man screamsprofessional security.

“Did you replace the other one?” I ask curiously, looking at the black-garbed man. He has a similar build, although his hair is a bit longer, and a darker blond. “Do you order them all from the same catalog, or?—”

“This is Gus,” Dimitri says flatly, his expression thoroughly unamused. “Vik is down the hall, watching to see if anyone comes up.”

“Do they all have three-letter names, too?” I’m aware from the look on Dimitri’s face that my humor isn’t landing, but I can’t stop. The panic from earlier and the overwhelming feeling that my life is spinning out of control has to go somewhere, and right now, it seems to be transmuting itself into jokes.

“Gus is going to be your bodyguard,” Dimitri says, not missing a beat. “He’ll stay here with you. If you go anywhere, he’ll go with you. He?—”

“What?” I blink at him, sure that I’m somehow hearing him incorrectly. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“You were followed home by someone who is likely a member of the gang that’s threatening you, so yes, you do.” Dimitri’s tone is patient, but I can hear just how thin that patience is. His jaw is tight, and I see the muscle in the side of it tick. “This isn’t up for debate, Evelyn.”

“It wasn’t in the contract?—”

That muscle ticks again, and Dimitri lets out a huffing breath through his nose. “Evelyn, there’s no reason to be difficult about this. You asked for my help, and I am giving?—”

“I asked foryourhelp. Where is he going to sleep? Does he work twenty-four hours a day? What exact situation are you suggesting here, because?—”

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