Lying and Kissing (26 page)

“Status symbol.
And no it isn’t. The yacht was a status symbol. You
like
this plane.
”
I paused, studying him as we sped down the runway. “No, you love it.”

He squirmed in his seat, just a little. I’d found his weakness. It was incredibly reassuring that he had one. “You’ve liked planes ever since you were a kid, haven’t you?” I said, figuring it out. “It reminds you of those days. When you didn’t have to think about all this stuff.” I felt the wheels leave the ground. “It must be nice to have something pure—one thing in your life that isn’t about guns and violence.”

He locked eyes with me and held my gaze. I’d been talking about the plane, but it occurred to me that I’d just described myself.

“You Americans and your psycho-analyzing,” he muttered. But it was a good-natured mutter. As if he didn’t mind someone finding out his weakness....as long as it was me. We stared at each other and I knew he could feel the connection as strongly as I could. That sense that this was right, that we worked together...even though we both knew it couldn’t last. His dad had told him to break up with me and, even if that didn’t happen, I was going to betray him.

It just felt so good, though, to finally meet someone I clicked with. I leaned over and wound my arm around his much thicker one, spiraling them so we were entangled, and put my head on his shoulder. He let out a long sigh—not aimed at me, but at the situation.

“What are you doing here, Arianna?” he said. “Why not in America with stockbroker?”

We stared at each other. We both knew the answer. “A stockbroker isn’t what I want,” I said quietly.

He shook his head. “You don’t want monster, either. You
think
you do.” The seatbelt sign went off. He unfastened his belt and patted his lap.

I slowly got up. He guided me to sit astride his legs, facing him. He folded his arms around my back and the warmth of him, after all those hours brooding alone on the yacht, made me melt inside. “I know what I want,” I said firmly.

“Between your thighs,” he rumbled. “But what about the rest of the time? I am what I am, Arianna, just like my father.”

I grabbed his hand. “
Not
just like your father. You’re your own man.”

He laughed gently and shook his head. “You want me to rebel and open a coffee shop in New York with you? That isn’t how the Brotherhood works. You don’t
leave.
This is my life. This will always be my life.
”

“But you could do it...I don’t know...
your own way.
Like making sure the guns don’t get handed out to teenagers.” It wasn’t that I was hung up on that one thing. It was that, if he could make that one concession, I’d know there was hope for him.

He studied me. Then he leaned forward and kissed my forehead and rested his own head against the tingling mark he’d made. “My father ran most of Moscow for many years. Everyone respects him. Everyone fears him. I have a lot of...expectation riding on me.”

I nodded, letting him feel the movement of my head against his. Both of us had our eyes closed, which I think is what made the next part possible.

“Your father’s dead, isn’t he?”

I nodded again, feeling the pain rise up into my throat, a jagged lump of ice.

“Your mother, too?” he whispered.

I nodded again. This time, a tear fell down between us and hit his thigh.

His arms tightened around me. “I’m sorry, Arianna.” He just held me for a long time. Then he said, “My father is all I have left. I can’t just go against him.”

I nodded, fresh tears forming in my eyes. I wasn’t supposed to know what his dad had said about me, so supposedly we were still talking about the gun deal. But I knew he was meaning breaking up with me, too. He was going to do just what his dad wanted and dump me as soon as we got back to his penthouse.

We landed at a tiny airfield just outside Moscow. One of Luka’s many guards met us with a car and Yuri got behind the wheel.

I immediately began to translate each billboard we passed, to try to get my mind off the fact I was sitting in a car. I’d spent more time in cars in the last few days than I had in the previous few years and it hadn’t gotten any easier. On the outward trip, focusing on Luka had made it bearable but now, with both of us consumed by our thoughts, there was just tense silence. Even Yuri looked uncomfortable.

I had maybe twenty minutes until we reached his penthouse. Then he’d dump me and have Yuri drive me back to my hotel. I’d call Adam and he’d get me on a flight the same day. By tomorrow, I’d be back at my desk in Langley and I’d never see Luka again. And within weeks, he’d go to jail for the rest of his life.

Everything that had happened between us was about to be wiped out.

Luka’s cell phone rang. As he listened to it, I saw his body tense and coil with anger. I stared out of the window and tried to look oblivious, as if I didn’t understand the flurry of curses and questions I heard.
They
had set up in Moscow. No mention was made of a name but, from the tone of Luka’s voice, I suspected it was his arch rivals, the Ralavich family. The ones Luka always claimed were much, much worse than him. I heard
where
and
how many
and finally Luka told the guy he’d take care of it and hung up. He gave Yuri an address and we turned off the highway and towards a housing district.

Luka looked at me. “I must go and attend to something,” he told me. “You will wait in car.”

I nodded dumbly. I could see the rage in him—the way his muscles had gone hard under his suit, the fabric barely containing those thick biceps and broad chest. He looked as if he was ready to tear his way right out through the car’s roof. But it didn’t feel as if he was angry at
me
. What was it his rivals had done that had got him so mad?

Soon, we were driving through a residential street made up of what were once fine townhouses. The street had seen better days, but the cars parked outside were expensive. Luka leaned across me to stare at the doors as we passed, counting off numbers to Yuri. We stopped right outside number 112.

Yuri and Luka both got out. “Stay here,” Luka told me, his voice making it clear he’d tolerate no arguments. I nodded dumbly.

Yuri unlocked the glove box and handed Luka a gun with what I recognized as a silencer screwed on the end, taking another for himself. I watched through the window as the two of them climbed the steps to the door. Luka knocked, hiding his gun behind his back.

The door opened a crack and I got a brief glimpse of a heavyset man with a bald head. Then Luka was shoving his gun through the crack and I could just hear the faint whisper of silenced shots.

The door opened and Luka and Yuri pushed their way inside. They closed the door behind them, but not before I glimpsed the guy who’d been guarding it lying on his back, his chest stained with blood.

I slapped my hand over my mouth, afraid I was going to throw up. I’d never seen anyone killed before.
Luka just murdered someone!
Jesus, this was a man I’d given my body to, who I’d allowed to comfort me when I was flashing back to the worst moments of my life. I knew he’d done it before, but to see it—

There was a shout from inside, abruptly cut off. Minutes passed.
God, what’s he doing in there?!
I imagined him going from room to room, killing.
I have to get out of here! I have to call Adam, or call the police!
There was no way I could stay with him after this, even for just a few hours. Nothing could justify this.

Then the door opened and a woman ran out, trampling over the dead guard’s body in her haste. She was naked save for a man’s shirt.

Another woman followed her, this one in a red dress. She seized the first one’s hand and they ran together down the street.

A third, this one in her underwear. Two more, in dresses. And a final one, her eye swollen and blackened, her wrists—

My stomach heaved. Her wrists had red marks around them, where she’d been tied.

I suddenly knew what had been going on inside the house, and why Luka was so angry. I’d thought that nothing could justify murder, but this….

Luka and Yuri burst out of the door, hauling a third man with them. He was bleeding from a split lip and his nose was broken. They wrestled him into the seat next to me and Yuri snapped handcuffs to his wrists, threading them through the grab-handle next to the door. Then Luka jumped into the passenger seat, Yuri got behind the wheel and we were screeching down the street.

I turned and stared at the man next to me. Muscled, but smaller than Luka. Blond hair, carefully styled, and a wide face with small, piggish eyes. He was glaring at Luka defiantly, but his face was pale with fear.

“You
fuck!”
Luka yelled in Russian, twisting around to glare at him. “Not women! Never women! Not like
that!”
He caught my eye for an instant and I saw something there that made me catch my breath. Fear.

Fear of it happening to me.

The man spat blood onto the spotless seatback in front of him and cursed Luka and his family. Then he turned to look at me.

“Don’t look at her,” snarled Luka in Russian, grabbing the man’s chin. “Don’t even fucking think about her!” And he punched the man in the face.

Yuri stopped the car and I saw we were in a back alley, out of view of the street. Luka came around to the rear of the car, unlocked the handcuffs and hauled the man out, handling his weight easily. He dragged him off down the alley.

“What’s he going to do to him?” I asked in a small voice.

Yuri turned around and just looked at me.

My stomach lurched again. Killing the guard at the house to free the women...that was one thing. Horrifying, but maybe—I was shocked that I could even think it—maybe
necessary.
But this, what Luka was doing now...this was simple, brutal violence. Punishment.

I climbed out of the car, my legs shaking.

Yuri looked at me in amazement. “Better you stay here,” he warned.

But I was already off and running down the alley after Luka. He’d dragged the guy to a lock-up garage, its door secured by a padlock and chain. Luka heaved on the chain, forearms bulging, until brute strength made one of the links give away. He swung open the door, pulled the man inside and threw him up against a wall.

“You
fuck!
” Luka yelled, swinging his fist into the man’s gut. The man doubled over. Luka caught him with an uppercut under the chin, sending him tumbling backward. “You sick little bastard!” The guy was trying to get up, but Luka didn’t give him a chance. His fists smashed into the man’s chest and face, pummeling him, knocking him to his knees. I remembered the punching bag, aboard the yacht.
I don’t box. I hit things.

“
Luka!”
I screamed, grabbing his shoulder. “Enough!”

Luka turned to me, his eyes savage. “Wait in the car!”

“No!” I looked at the guy. Blood was pouring from his nose and lips, his face swollen with bruises. “You’ll kill him!”

Luka looked at me. And nodded.

“It’s enough! Let him go!”

Luka stared into my eyes. “Do you know what they were doing in there? It wasn’t just a brothel. It was a rape club, for rich businessmen. Where they can do anything they like to the women, for money.” He kicked the man on the ground.

I stared at the bleeding, broken man. I almost wanted to kill him myself.
What harm would it do? He deserves it. Luka’s all ready to do it. Let him.

“No,” I said, my eyes burning into Luka’s. “You can’t.
I don’t want you to.
Understand?”

He glared at me. “He deserves it!”

“I know! But I want you—I want you to be better than that! You
are
better than that, Luka!”

The man on the floor laughed and coughed up blood. He croaked something about Luka being pussy-whipped. Luka kicked him in the chest and he went quiet.

“
Please,
Luka,” I begged. “I—”