Page 14 of Ascendent
So they turned to the bounty hunters.
Anton and Aleksey had agreed to take command of Ilya’s slapdash program, instituting regulations, restrictions, and rules for their theives-turned-bounty hunters. But, also pay and benefits, housing, food, and supplies. Sergey wanted to give the bounty hunters many reasons to stay loyal, to want to remain with Sergey’s Russia.
Still, Anton and Aleksey kept everyone on a tight leash. Arming a band of criminals just to lose them in the Russian interior was not what his government, or his people, needed.
Sasha emerged as Ilya recounted a new wave of murders in Dudinka, the savage butchery of two families who worked for the Norilsk Nickel refineries nearby. Anton and Aleksey had dispatched their best bounty hunters after the murders before flying to Moscow for the Heroes Ball. They were on their way back now to continue the investigation.
“Have a good workout.” Sergey turned his face up for a kiss as Sasha paused beside him.
Sasha’s gaze darted to Ilya.
Ilya leaned back, watching, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucked down the last of his cigarette. His eyes danced. Ilya had always enjoyed watching other men squirm. Sergey waited.
Sasha dropped a kiss to Sergey’s lips and strode out of the apartment, almost fast enough to leave color trails behind his shoes, to bend gravity with the speed of his exit. But Sergey’s lips tingled where they’d kissed Sasha’s, and Sasha had woken up in Sergey’s arms for the first time ever that morning.
Things were looking up.
* * *
Wild horses galloped justbeneath Sasha’s skin. His nerves sang, blistering with screams, a thousand shouts that echoed the pounding of his heart. Anxiety thrummed through him, his mind on full alert, turning over every glance tossed his way, every look, every nod. Did that man know? Or did he? Who suspected? Could everyone see that he’d spent the night in Sergey’s bed? That he’d just left the president’s apartment? Had just kissed him in front of Ilya?
He’d never kissed Sergey in front of another Russian.
And he never would again.
Dammit, he was cold, always so cold. There was a chill that lived inside of him, something that had taken root in the Arctic, or even before. In Siberia, or Volga, on the frozen flight line. He couldn’t shake the cold. It felt like his bones were frozen.
Berating himself took him from the palace and Sergey’s apartment to the basement gym beneath the government complex, beneath the administrative offices where he and Ilya used to work together, months ago. He used to slip away in the late afternoons, work out his tension, his tightly-wound panic, the ache in his bones and his blood from being around Sergey andwanting, day in and day out.
Don’t fuck this up. Don’t ruin this.He pushed his way into the gym, into the dim cavern of weights and sweat and stink.
Three guys were already in there, two on the punching bag and one working the free weights. He recognized the third, someone from Sergey’s security team, someone who had escorted him to his suite at the Ritz when he’d arrived for the Heroes Ball. Yuri, he’d said his name was. Sasha nodded his hellos. Yuri grunted back, curling the dumbbells as he worked his biceps. Yuri was a beast of a man, a bear in human form, barrel chested, thick necked, with arms the size of Sasha’s thighs.
Sasha warmed up his muscles with a hundred pushups and sit-ups each, alternating between the two. His bones still felt wreathed in ice, his hands, his fingers, still chilled. Yuri dropped his weights, downed a bottle of water. The other two guys came off the heavy bag and made their way to Sasha. They stood in a loose circle, surrounding him.
He froze. Looked up.
Not again.
You only have yourself to blame. You knew it would go wrong. You knew it.
The cold grew within him, circled his heart. Ice hardened, clenched. He felt his heart tremble.
Better me than Sergey.
His fists clenched. He wouldn’t be taken by surprise again––
“Mr. Andreyev.” One of the men held out his taped hand, still wrapped from the punching bag. “Mikhail Lebedev. I’m one of the president’s security specialists. I was with you both last night.”
Fuck. Sasha glared. His nostrils flared. He stared at Mikhail’s outstretched hand, blood coursing, ready to fight.Never again, never ag––
“Do you want to work the bag? I’ll spot you.”
The ice around his heart cracked.
It took Sasha a long minute to breathe, to blink, or figure out what Mikhail was offering. He’d been a loner before, purposely shunning everyone in the Kremlin. In the mountains during Sergey’s insurgency, he’d slipped back into his soldier’s roots, back into commanding men and running operations, gluing himself to Sergey’s side as they built their war for the soul of Russia.
He wasn’t supposed to survive that, not the insurgency, not the overflight of the Arctic, not coming back to Sergey’s Russia. He was supposed to give everything, dedicate everything, to Sergey. His cabin in the woods hiding in Shipunovskaya on the outskirts of humanity was a sucker’s consolation for living.
