Page 50 of Alexei (Belles & Mobsters 4)

“Okay.” My instinct was warning me that he wasn’t telling me everything. “Can we call him?”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

Of course. It never was.

“How about you stop beating around the bush and just tell me what the deal is?” I asked exasperated. At this rate both of my eyeballs would be twitching.

“The only way to enter the club is as a couple.” My eyes widened, but I said nothing. “The two of us will go undercover.”

“Two of us?” I repeated stupidly, as my eyes ping-ponged between Vasili and Alexei.

“Yes, you and Alexei,” Vasili clarified. “He sure as hell isn’t going to pretend to be a couple with me.”

I narrowed my eyes on both of them, watching them warily.Jackass!

“And if I was a guy, what would your plan have been?” I asked, my hands on my hips as I glared at them.

Vasili shrugged. “We’d dress you as a girl,” he grumbled, like it was self-explanatory. And for the life of me, I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.

“You must be joking,” I objected dryly. This had to be some kind of test.

“No.” Alexei Nikolaev was pissing me off. No clarification, no explanation. Nothing. Justno. And that was it.

“Why don’t you just give me the address of the club and I’ll get a warrant?” I reasoned. “We can question them until we get the information that will get us closer to this predator.”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

Tension creeped up my spine and my shoulders tightened. This couldn’t be happening. The idea was ludicrous. I rolled my neck, attempting to loosen some tension. Alexei took three large strides to the little mini bar and calmly poured himself a drink.

“Drink?” he offered.

“You wish,” I snapped. “So you can get me drunk and drag me to some freakshow.” I knew I wasn’t behaving reasonably, but what did he expect? Dropping something like that and expecting me to be cool about it. “Anyway, I'm on duty,” I added.

Besides, images I didn’t want to remember from a long time ago flashed through my mind, like a horror movie. Seeing what happened to Anya scarred Sailor, Willow, and me. It would have damaged any eighteen-year-old.

I never understood why Anya recommended we break into the old Santos’ house. And took us with her, three idiot teenagers. It was something Sailor kept asking her - over and over again. The three of us were going to report him to the police, but then Anya freaked out.

She went crazy, babbling it was consensual. I thought she was scared because the man was the head of a cartel in Miami. I assured her my brothers would keep us safe; we just had to tell them. She wouldn’t hear of it and threatened to kill herself.

Cold sweat trickled down my back at those horrid memories and I pushed them back down into a deep, dark hole.

“Suit yourself,” Alexei replied coolly and strangely enough, it pulled me back into the light and matter at hand. Sex club.

“Give me the address, and I’ll go with someone else,” I reasoned. I’d beg Jackson on my knees to come back for a day. Anyone would be better than Alexei.

Alexei’s glass paused an inch from his lips before he replied, “No.”

Again, no explanation. God, I never liked to judge a person without knowing them, but I really didn’t like him. His voice was worse than a cold shower. It grated on my nerves.

“And why not?” I challenged him.

His eyes didn’t flicker. No expression passed his face. Just like when he beat the guy at the restaurant.

“I mean, do you even have sex?” I blurted out stupidly. “I thought your kind gets off on killing people.”

His inked fingers curled around his glass, and for a fraction of a second, I thought his grip tightened.Interesting.My eyes flicked to his glacier blues, but his expression was blank, and I returned my gaze to his fingers. They no longer gripped the glass. Maybe I imagined it.

My eyes lingered on his hand, holding the glass, studying for any sign of anger. Nothing. Though the strength he held didn’t escape me. And despite the tattoos, his fingers were beautiful. Big. Strong.

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