Page 14 of Reaper
I’msittingattheend of the bed in my bedroom with my head in my hands trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to get out of this situation. I just should’ve let her disappear into the darkness, but that wasn’t an option as soon as his blood landed on my clothes and skin. I became a part of this entire shitshow. She didn’t have to say it’s his blood because I just know it is without her saying what she’s done.
Did she kill the next Bratva Pakhan? She must have done a number on him. With that amount of blood, he shouldn’t survive. And for her sake I hope he’s dead.
I’m sure by now his goons are looking for her and me since I disappeared, too. For months they’ve been looking for a reason to get rid of me ever since I killed Aleksi. However, it’s been hard to do anything without outright declaring war with the Sinners. This might just be their reason now.
I don’t feel comfortable pulling the club into things before I know exactly what the hell is going on. I’m not sure if bringing her to my place was the best idea either, but here we are. I’ll just have to deal with the consequences later. Right now, I need toknow how to plan for what happens next which means I need to know exactly what the hell she’s done.
“Fuck!” I grip the edge of the bed. “This isn’t good.”
Nikita’s woman is in my shower washing away his blood from her body. I’ve already washed up in my guest bathroom and bagged my bloody clothes. Now I’m just waiting for her to give me the ones she’s wearing. When I have time, I’ll take them to the funeral home we use sometimes and throw them, along with the knife she used, into the incinerator to destroy anything connecting us to the crime.
When the shower shuts off, I lift my head, waiting for the mysterious woman to exit my bathroom. We didn’t have the chance to talk about what happened and what her plans are once the Bratva finds out she’s the one who stabbed the next Petrov Pakhan. Getting rid of all the blood had been the priority.
She steps out of the bathroom, with steam from the shower trailing behind her. She keeps her head lowered to the ground, as she takes one of my towels and dries her hair.
Something pulls inside my chest again. She looks so different. Her large, almond-shaped eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, peer at me, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension in their depths. Her button nose and plump lips are flawless against her beautiful dark skin. She’s so perfect. So innocent, but sexy as hell. She’s wearing one of my shirts and a pair of my boxers. Possessiveness whirls its way through me as my cock thickens in my basketball shorts.
Not the time, Logan.
“Take a seat.” I gesture to the plush leather armchair by my bedroom window as I try to ignore the desire rising inside me. “We need to talk.”
She let out a breath, ceasing her efforts to dry her hair. No longer straight her still slightly damped hair is now a mass oftight, springy curls, reaching just past her shoulders. I like it better this way.
“What do you want to talk about?” Her voice is barely above a whisper and the agony interlaced in her words sends a dagger into my heart. “I didn’t have a choice. It was him or me. And I chose me.”
“I’m not blaming you for the choice you made. I just need to know what happened.”
As she makes her way to the chair, I notice her trembling hands, and her unsteady steps. She must be experiencing an adrenaline dump even though so far, she’s handling this shit better than I expect her to.
On the outside at least.
Earlier, as tears streamed down her face and her voice was choked with despair, she pleaded with me to let her escape. That’s the only time she showed any type of emotion. Other than that, she’s been stoic, almost detached from what’s happening.
I know how that feels.
With a sigh, she sat in the luxurious oversized armchair, then tucked her legs under her.
“Is he dead?”
That’s the most pressing question at the moment, the one that needs immediate attention. Then we can plan around his death, or a brutal attempt on his life.
She shrugs. “I didn’t stop to check. I didn’t have time. I just stabbed him until he let go of me then I ran out.”
So, right now we’ll plan around a brutal attempt on his life. Although it shouldn’t take long to verify whether they found him dead.
“What’s your name and how do you know Nikita?”
I don’t think she’s anyone special to Nikita. He parades women around all the time. He’s the type of person who switches women like underwear. Yet he seems extremely possessive ofher. I haven’t seen him like that with any other women. Or maybe my attention on her pissed him off?
“Paris Johnson. The Petrovs kidnapped me six months ago.”
Fuck! Well, that’ll bring the cops straight to my doorsteps.
“So, you’re a missing person?”
“Not necessarily missing.” She releases a sarcastic chuckle, twisting the hem of my t-shirt in her trembling hands. “The only family I have knows exactly where I’ve been. He owes a debt he can’t pay. So, he gave me to the Pakhan who then gave me to Nikita as a gift.”
The amount of rage coursing through my veins is like a raging burning inferno. I can’t even imagine the unspeakable horrors she’s been through, both physical and mental because some asshole doesn’t know how to take care of his own shit. The bruises decorating her delicate skin only tell part of the story.
