"Um…" I raised my hand. "…I can shower on my own."
"I know you can." He lifted his shirt over his head.
Why was I arguing again?
"But do you want to?"
"Have I ever told you how smart you are?"
"No." He smirked. "And don't start now, or it will freak the shit out of me and possibly earn you a trip to the ER. Strip."
I tilted my head. "Can't I just stare? That has to be somewhere on the list — wife watches husband take clothes off and takes mental pictures."
Ignoring me, Sergio gripped my T-shirt and whispered against my mouth, "Strip or I pull out the knife again."
"Ooo, I vote yes on the knife."
His head touched mine. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"Grab the big machete. We can use it as a prop!" I yelled after his retreating form.
I didn't expect him to come back with the knife.
He did.
And the machete, which he placed very far away from me, making it so I'd have to learn how to fly over the counter to actually reach it. "You don't play fair."
"You're dizzy. I'm going to be naked. You don't get sharp objects."
"He has a point." I lifted my arms into the air. "Okay, cut it off me."
"You are so weird." He laughed. It was rich and deep.
I was half-tempted to just stare at his face, but I didn't have time. Soon the knife poked into my shirt. But he put it down.
I pouted.
Then Sergio gripped the shirt and ripped it in half. With. His. Bare. Hands.
My grin was so huge I was officially all vampire, poor guy. Though he didn't seem to mind as he moved his hands to my shorts and did the exact same thing. At that rate, I didn't need to even move.
"Have I told you how hot you are with a knife?" I leaned back, my nakedness fully exposed.
Sergio placed the knife next to me on the counter and kissed my cheek. "Have I told you how hot you are naked?"
"Only naked?"
"If we're taking a vote, I'd say no clothes."
"But you love clothes!"
"So you can see how much I love you being naked…" His eyes flashed with something that appeared to be excitement. "I have an idea."
"Okay."
"Shower, then idea. Well actually, first we have to send the hand."
"Send the hand." I said it in a low voice and raised my hands in the air like I was a ghost. Why? No idea.
"You done now?"
I nodded.
"Great." He picked me up and set me in the shower, then stripped and followed me in.
We washed each other. I would be a liar if I said I wasn't disappointed when he didn't make a move to try anything. I was really hoping for more, especially since my morning had had such a crappy start.
I was just getting ready to turn the water off when he flipped me around and pinned my hands against the shower wall. His teeth nipped my ear as he whispered hoarsely, "Fourteen."
Sergio
YOU KNOW THINGS ARE ROUGH WHEN
you're thankful you have a disembodied hand lying around the house to take your mind off things.
Specifically, to take your mind off the girl who's dying and most likely taking your heart with her to the grave. I still hadn't heard back from Tex, but my appointment was in a week. Either way, at least I could say I'd tried, right?
I put the Rolex back together and made sure to secure it to the hand without making it seem like it had been taken off.
The chip was small enough not to be discovered — that is, unless they took the watch apart. Because it was so small, it would be impossible to hear conversations more than twenty feet away. But it was honestly all we had, so it was worth a shot.
I'd spent the early part of my morning actually tracking down Petrov himself — not an easy task considering he had several houses all over the country, not to mention business in what seemed like every southern state in the US. I didn't want to bank on the fact that he'd be in his home in Chicago, but all trails led to that exact spot.
The man wasn't hiding.
He wasn't even trying to, the cocky son of a bitch.
In a way it was comforting — to know he wasn't underground. The man was known by the feds, but he'd never faced prison time — ever. He had a few judges on his side, not to mention at least two unsavory politicians in Washington state; it was no wonder he kept most of his business in Seattle.
Then again, he had millions tied into a few of the harbors up there.
With a sigh, I started the recording on the computer and was just about to make sure everything worked when Andi walked in.
Sadly, she wasn't naked, but she was wearing skinny jeans and a sweatshirt that hung so loose on her I was afraid it was going to fall off one of her shoulders and hang onto her hips. She was losing more weight. Funny how girls typically love to hear that. But with Andi? I knew it would just take that smile away. Hell, she'd probably leap into the air if I told her she was getting fat.
"Oooo." Andi approached the table. The hand was in the FedEx box, ready to go. "So we flat-rate this stuff, huh?"
I smirked. "Is there any other way?"
"Not sure. Never sent a body part to a person before." She tapped the hand. "Testing one, two, three."
My computer went wild. "Well, it works."
"I can officially mark that off my bucket list. Talked to a hand, hand recorded conversation, and mailed it off to a biological parent."
"Something tells me your bucket list contains a lot more violence than the typical human being."
She shrugged; the sweatshirt fell even farther off her shoulder.
"Will you be cold?" I asked gently. She had half her arm exposed already.
"No." She smiled. I could tell it was forced. "Besides, most my clothes are getting a bit baggy… probably all that sex."
"All that sex?" I repeated, crossing my arms. "You mean all of two times?"
"In my head, it's been triple that." She nodded emphatically. "Care to make that dream come true?"
"Car." I pointed to the door. "Weren't you just complaining a few days ago about me not participating in our epic honeymoon? You know, the one where I apparently take you on an African safari only to come home and whisk you away to China?"
She chewed her lower lip. "Yes, but doesn't lying in bed sound awesome too?"
I ignored the dark circles under her eyes, just like I ignored the clenching in my stomach that she was starting to bruise more around her hands.
"Of course it does." I grabbed her by the shoulders and pointed her toward the door. "But so does a cinnamon roll and the best mimosa of your life."
Andi let out a slight whimper. "Talk dirty to me, Italy."
"Cinnamon," I said in a deep voice, pulling her back against me.
"Ooo."
"Sugar." I licked the side of her neck.
Andi shivered in my arms. "Don't stop!"
"Hot… buttery…"
"Just a little bit more…" She closed her eyes and clenched my hands within hers.
"Dough," I finished, kissing her head. "You're strange, you know that?"
"Whatever. You're the one making dough a dirty word."
"The woman has a point." I grabbed my keys and swatted her hand when she reached for her purse.
"What?" Her wide eyes blinked up at me.
"You said you wanted one of those fun credit cards. Well, as much as I'm sure you think I can snap my fingers and make them appear, I can't control American Express. Therefore, I put your name on mine."
Her eyes widened even more. "Shut up!"
"No limit." I grabbed her hand and dragged her through the large garage. "Pick a car for your shopping day."
"Shopping day!" She twirled once then winked at me and twirled again, making her way toward the most conspicuous car I owned. "I pick this one."
I cursed. "Of course you'd pick the red Lambo." It wasn't just any red Lambo either. It was a red Lamborghini Veneno Roadster. The thing looked like a happier version of the Batmobile, minus all the toys.
"It's pretty." She ran her hands along the hood then leaned up against it. "Think she'll purr for me?"
I rolled my eyes. I hung up the keys to the Mercedes and quickly grabbed the ones to the Lamborghini. "What can I say? Italians make sexy cars. What's the last thing you did, Russia?"
"You." She blew me a kiss and opened the door. It slowly rose up above her head. With a squeal, she basically flew into the car. So much for trying to keep a low profile. Then again, if Petrov wanted her, he could be my guest; it would be so much easier shooting him in broad daylight.
I got in the car and started the engine.
"Holy…" Andi gripped the seat with her hands. "It sounds like a freaking plane!"
"Yup." I turned up Hozier and pulled out my sunglasses.
"And it vibrates…" She gripped my hand. "…almost like a motorcycle."
"Wow, if I'd known this was all it took to get you all hot and bothered, I would have skipped the shower this morning," I joked.
Andi threw her head back and shouted, "Thirteen!"
I couldn't stop the bark of laughter. "Who was better? Me or the car?"
"Aw…" She lightly punched my shoulder. "…don't ask questions you don't want the answer to." She started petting the seat. I half-expected her to start licking it and whispering sweet nothings to the leather.
"Should I leave you alone?"
"No." She freaking winked at the leather seat. "We'll catch up later." She buckled her seatbelt. "Why? Jealous?"
I shook my head. "Of a car? Never."
"You sure?"
"Positive." I pulled out of the garage. "Besides, you've seen what's under my hood. I don't think I have anything to be worried about."
"That secure, huh?"
I let out a cocky laugh. "Yes."
Her eyes narrowed. "Fine, you win. Wait!" She reached for my arm. "The hand! It's back in the house!"
I peeled out of the driveway. "One of Nixon's men is going to do the honors for us."
"And out of curiosity, what do you guys do? Just drop it off at the FedEx store, or what?"
"Where else would we drop it off?"
"But it's a hand."
"Right."
"From a person."
"Yeah."
"So you can't ship alcohol, but you can ship body parts?"
I let out a little laugh. "It's not like we actually write on the box,
Human Body Part.
"
"Fair enough." She nodded. "Okay, so where to?"
"Downtown." I nodded. "The expensive stores, I think. After all, you're the one with no limit…"
"Are you going to be my personal shopper?"
"I wouldn't trust you with anyone else."
Her smile fell. "You think it's safe for us to be out and about?"
"Of course." I patted my leather jacket. "I have enough guns in the car to take care of us, and I hardly doubt your father's going to be at the mall. If he is, just make sure everyone ducks so I get a good shot in between his eyes."
"Look at you… dirty talk all day long."
The car fell silent for a few minutes. It was comfortable, like we'd known each other for years instead of weeks.
"Italy?"
"Russia."
Andi reached for my hand. "Thanks. I know most girls love clothes, but I really, really love clothes, and mine haven't been fitting and—"
"You're welcome," I interrupted, trying to cut off the conversation so we wouldn't talk about the giant elephant in the room.
It was no longer cancer.
But the clock.
Andi
I'D MADE HIM UNCOMFORTABLE.
I could tell from the way he clenched his jaw and drummed his fingertips against the steering wheel — like the car wasn't moving fast enough, and he wanted to hurry up and get to where we were going so he could flee the small space and actually breathe.
I knew the feeling well.
Sometimes it hurt to breathe, not because I was sick, but because the knowledge of being sick had a way of choking you physically, even if it was just a mental thing.
We made small talk until we reached downtown. There was a huge shopping center in the distance. He kept driving.
I opened my mouth to ask why, but he just shrugged and drove a few more blocks and stopped directly in front of Neimen Marcus.
"Hmm…" I tapped my chin. "…I like the way you think."
"Knew you would." He flashed me a sexy smile that had my heart skipping. We parked and suddenly, as I was getting out of the car, I felt very, very underdressed.
I was wearing combat boots, an ill-fitting Lacrosse sweatshirt, and baggy jeans. Self-consciously, I tugged the sweatshirt up over my shoulder and braced myself for the looks I knew I would get from the salesclerks.
Sergio walked around the ridiculously loud car and reached for my hand. When we touched, he briefly looked down and frowned.
Bruises were making themselves known around my thumb and on the back of my wrist. I tried to jerk my hand free so he wouldn't have to see them; instead, he simply held my hand a bit tighter. Then, in a move I wouldn't have expected, lifted my fingers to his lips and kissed every single one.
I shivered, unaccustomed to affection, especially from a sexy guy who was just as dangerous as he was addicting.
"Shall we?" Sergio asked. He was still frowning.
I wasn't sure if it was at me or because of me; regardless, I figured I had a lot to do with it and immediately felt guilty.
To be fair — I hadn't planned it.
Falling for him.
I mean, any girl would, but he'd always been such an ass I honestly assumed he'd get tired of my constant chatter and just lock me in a room or a really large box.
Instead, it broke him down.
And turned him into a completely different person — one I knew I would be devastated to say goodbye to.
"Smile." Sergio shoved me lightly "You're at Neiman Marcus."
"Oh, I'm happy," I gushed. "Just thinking about… dresses."
"Dresses?" His eyebrows shot up as he held open the door and ushered me through it. "What kind of dresses."
"The short kind."
"We should get lots of those for you to wear around the house…"