A small smile bled across Vladimir’s face.
Andrei sidled up to his boss. “Why you get kicked out?”
He looked down again. “Too much gambling.”
Andrei laughed. “This I believe, singer boy. You worst card player I see.”
“Come.” Vladimir grabbed Grant’s collar and yanked him to his feet. “We talk business.”
As Vladimir headed out the door, Andrei asked, “What about ’Nochka?”
Vladimir turned. “Not now.” He barked to the bodyguard in Russian, something about getting Innochka some clothes. “We have business. Important. Mr. Navy Saylor help us with business.”
Grant didn’t even glance at Innochka as he followed Vladimir out of the room with Andrei close on his six. But relief flooded him. Apparently they’d found another way to test his loyalty. To hide the tremor in his hands, he shoved them in his pockets.
***
Sophie jarred awake. With one ear still pressed into the pillow, she listened to the darkness of Kirsten’s bedroom for a few seconds, but heard nothing. Just as she closed her eyes, the bedroom door hinges creaked.
Shooting up in bed, her heart raced. Then she made out a tall silhouette in the doorway.
“Why aren’t you on the sofa?” Grant whispered.
She clutched her collarbone, letting out her panicked breath. “Kir’s at her parents this weekend. She said I could sleep here.”
“Oh.” He also let out a slow breath. “When I didn’t see you out there, I thought…”
“
What
did you think?”
He came to her, and she could see the fear in his shining eyes. “I…” He hesitated for a moment, then scooped her into a fierce hug. She melted into him, and it felt so good to be cradled in his strong arms. But tension radiated from his body.
“What’s wrong, honey?” When he didn’t answer, she offered, “Carlo’s dead. Your father’s locked up. I’m safe now—you don’t need to worry.”
“I know.”
His grip didn’t loosen at all.
“Did you make a mistake tonight? Is Agent Bounter mad?”
“No.” He sighed. “He said I played it just right. We meet tomorrow to plan the next move.”
“Good.” She smoothed circles on his back, feeling the muscles beneath his dress shirt. “What happened, then?”
He was silent for almost a minute, then finally relaxed into her. She closed her eyes and felt the weight of his troubles pressing into her body.
He leaned back and skated his fingertips from her temple to chin with the softest of touches. Then she noticed the shadow of a bruise on his cheek.
“Where—?”
“I love you,” he said.
Before she could respond, his mouth found hers. The kiss started as a gentle brush of lips, a warm feather of air settling over her skin. She inhaled his light scent of sandalwood. He hovered over her lips, and she felt the slight tug of his long fingers sliding through her hair. When she could wait no longer and leaned in to kiss him back, his pressure deepened, his touch more urgent. Desperation now pressed into these kisses, hard and burning. She clutched him to her chest as his mouth melded to hers.
She didn’t know why he needed her right then, but she was there. She’d always be there—listening to his anguish, taking his pain.
He’s been through so much
.
She prayed he’d make it out of this assignment alive.
9. Confide
T
HE
N
EXT
D
AY
, Sophie smiled from the doorway as Tanya Mitchell scowled at her laptop.
“This makes no freaking sense!” the assistant professor muttered. Her headshake swayed her gargantuan gold hoop earrings.
“You need help,” Sophie said.
Tanya swiveled to look at her. “I hate statistics,” she whined.
“Me too.” Sophie pulled a chair around behind the desk to sit next to her friend.
“But
you’re
good at it,” Tanya noted.
“Hardly. I mean, Anita’s taught me a lot, but I’d much rather do therapy than research.”
Tanya’s face clouded, and Sophie feared she’d made the woman uncomfortable by bringing up her lost psychologist’s license. She’d disclosed her sordid past to Tanya over a month ago, and not surprisingly she’d been horrified about Logan’s role in the mess. Less predictably, Tanya had been completely forgiving of her ethical breach. She’d said she admired Sophie for bouncing back from prison. Tanya said she could understand how she’d fallen for Logan if he was half as cute as Grant.
“So what’s stumping you?” Sophie asked, gesturing to the computer. “You said the regression analyses don’t make sense?”
“Nice try changing the subject. Have you thought about petitioning the board to get your license back?”
“The Illinois Psychology Board won’t reinstate a convicted felon, Dr. Mitchell.”
“But the governor pardoned you.”
She looked down. “I don’t think that matters. I’m sure the board won’t reissue my license because they think I’ll exploit a client again.”
“So they’ll order you to get supervision or something. If you love counseling so much, you have to at least
try
. What do you have to lose?”
Heaving a loud sigh, she continued staring at her lap. “All sense of dignity. Can you imagine what it’d be like to go up in front of the board?” She looked at Tanya. “To face a bunch of old men who’ve been psychologists forever? What am I supposed to tell them? ‘Oh, I’m
so
sorry I slept with my client. Sorry for my out-of-control libido. I’ll never let it happen again.’ It would be intensely mortifying for them to judge my sexual behavior…to judge
me
.”
Tanya said nothing, but just as Sophie grabbed a printout of statistical analyses she added, “The judgment of board members isn’t what’s bothering you. It’s
your
judgment that’s the problem. You’re way too harsh. You still haven’t forgiven yourself.”
“Ugh. Why do you have to be so damn intuitive?” Sophie asked after a moment.
Tanya grinned.
“
You’re
the one who should be doing therapy,” Sophie added.
“Honestly?” Tanya sat back in her chair. “Therapy is way too stressful. I couldn’t wait for my internship to end so I could get back to teaching and research. How do you sleep at night after hearing clients tell you horrifying stories?” She shuddered. “It’s not for me.”
“It
was
stressful at times, I admit. And my own therapist has helped me understand that I took on too much responsibility for my clients, and that made me anxious. But now I see I don’t have to
make
change happen—I just have to let it happen. The few times I was able to trust my clients to figure out their own answers, therapy was really fun.”
“Even more reason to pursue your license.”
She shrugged.
“Well, I still think you should try. But if you don’t, you’re in a good place. Research is a blast!”
“Except for statistics?” Sophie asked.
Tanya’s smile vanished. “Yeah. The damn statistics.”
Sophie handed her the printout.
“Okay, here’s the deal. You know how I split the sample into the top third and the lowest third in terms of how much they’d adapted to American culture?”
Sophie nodded.
“Well, my hypothesis was that the most Americanized students would seek counseling more frequently than the group that held to their culture of origin.”
“Makes sense,” Sophie said.
“Exactly. But I only find a significant difference in help-seeking behavior when I compare the top and bottom thirds—and David told me it was ridiculous to throw out the middle third of my sample.”
She frowned. “David?”
“David Alton,” Tanya confessed with a wince.
“Why are you taking advice from him?” she asked. “How did he even find out about your study?”
“Oh, Nora let it slip in class when they were arguing about the performance of minorities on intelligence tests. She’s apologized to me about twenty times now.”
She laughed. “Poor Nora. I’m so glad she knows what David’s really like.”
“Yes, and she’s keeping tabs on him. So far he hasn’t hit on any of the ladies in this year’s class.”
“I’m glad he no longer thinks he’s God’s gift to female psychology students.”
Tanya leaned in. “Speaking of God’s gift, have you met Nora’s boyfriend?”
She shook her head.
“
Ay yi yi
. That man is hot. Smokin’ hot.”
She nudged her shoulder. “We need to get
you
a man.”
“Is it so terrible I want my own McSailor?”
“No, not at all. He’s pretty nice to have around. That’s what I’m saying!” She suppressed a yawn.
“Did McSailor keep you up late with kinky sex?”
“Jeez, you need to get laid. He got home late from his gig, that’s all.”
“And
then
you had sex.”
“Our relationship is more than just sex, Tanya.”
“I don’t know why,” she said. “If I had a man like that I’d sex him up one side and down the other.”
“Knock, knock.”
They looked up to see Kirsten standing in the office doorway, looking like she’d swallowed a canary. “I see you two are engaged in quite the academic discussion. You
do
know I can hear your porno talk all the way in the hallway, right?”
Sophie’s cheeks flushed as Tanya stood and shooed Kirsten inside before shutting the door.
“Please tell me David wasn’t in the hallway,” Tanya said.
Kirsten took a seat. “Luckily, no.” She turned to Sophie. “Hey, roomie.”
“
Roomie?”
Tanya asked. “Still living in the past, Kirsten?”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” Kirsten stammered. “Life hasn’t been complete since Sophie moved out. At least I get to be in the same building as her, though.”
“So what brings you over to the psych building, Dr. Holland?” Sophie asked quickly.
Kirsten rolled her eyes. “Had a no-show at the counseling center. Stupid students.”
“But now you get paid whether or not the clients show, right?” Sophie asked.
A dazzling smile from Kirsten. “One benefit of working for a university counseling center. Though the salary is crap.”
“Maybe you need a sugar daddy to pay the bills,” Tanya suggested.
Sophie laughed. “
Aaaand
we’re back to sex.”
“I don’t know, guys,” Kirsten said. “I just read this article in
Psychology Today
about being single at heart. I think that’s me.” She shrugged. “I’ve always been this weird, nonlinear thinker…”
Tanya nodded. “I
saw
that article. I can’t believe forty-five percent of American adults are unmarried. Where are all the single men? And more importantly, what do these people do for
sex?”
“I got it!” Sophie shot out of her chair.
“You got what?” Tanya eyed her. “The way for single people to gain unfettered access to sex?”
“No. The answer to your stats question.” Sophie yanked the paper out of Tanya’s hand. “The reason the significant difference isn’t showing up with the whole sample? Your data are
nonlinear
. Only by looking at the top and bottom thirds are you finding the truth.”
Tanya absorbed that for a few seconds. “Holy Oprah Winfrey—you’re right! So if I follow David’s advice, I’ll have non-significant results. My study will be loserville.”
“Suck it, David,” Sophie crowed.
“He wishes.” Tanya smirked.
“I’m brilliant,” Sophie said, with a toss of her hair.
“No,” Kirsten countered. “You’re a
nerd
.”
***
Tank winced at the lingering sting of the knife wound in his shoulder. The prison doc had removed his stitches yesterday, but the gash still felt tender. He arranged his face in a mask of stone before approaching the wiry blond men hovering over the bench press.
“We got company, boss,” the elfin one hissed as Tank neared.
There was a loud clang of metal as Ricker dropped the weighted bar on the clips and popped off the bench in one fluid motion. He pushed aside his ponytailed minion and stepped right up to Tank, who gave him a perplexed look as he barked a few words in guttural German.
“I don’t speak Nazi,” Tank said.
Ricker inched closer. “This bench is taken.”