Page 40 of Echoes of Sin

“Yes, he probably knows everything about you. He likes to dig into people to find something he can use against them in case he needs to. But don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”

“I have to go home. Now.”

Her panic made me panic. “Why?”

“My brother,” she began. “My brother Ryan, he is a police officer. A cop, Ilya.”

She hesitated and I knew she was lying about something, but I didn’t know why. “And?”

“And he’s probably already filed a missing person’s report. He knows you’re back in town and he’s not happy about it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she cut me off. “He is a cop, and that means that very soon, if it hasn’t happened already, he and his cop buddies in and out of Winter Valley will start pulling footage around Montrose Accounting and they’ll figure out why I didn’t come home.” She put a hand to her chest and her breaths came in faster and shorter.

“Shit.” That was an unexpected problem. “I need to call Dmitri.” I jumped out of bed and went to get one of the burner phones I kept in a safe in the office. I’d enjoyed our time away from real life, but now I had to let it back in. Brooke’s brother was a problem I hadn’t anticipated, but as I waited for Dmitri to answer my call, I wondered what else had gotten her so upset.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Brooke

I’d woken early this morning feeling raring to go—possibly it was the relief at learning that Karina was safe.

Yesterday, after Ilya had made some phone calls, he brought me a burner phone and said I could make any calls I needed. He gave me privacy while I did it, so I called Ryan. They were still on vacation at his wife’s family’s house in the Hamptons and Karina was having a whale of a time with her cousins. They were due back on Sunday, I wasn’t sure how this was going to play out so I asked Ryan if he could have her for a few more days. I said that something had come up at work, and I had to go away on an urgent business trip. He’d sounded suspicious at first, I guess as my older brother he always watched out for me—but then said that it would be okay, and to call him once I knew what was happening with my schedule.

“Fuck, what smells so good?” Ilya’s deep voice reverberated against my back as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I was wearing nothing but one of his undershirts which meant there was just a thin layer of fabric between us and feeling him pressing against me was waking up another appetite.

I laughed. “It’s called food. You might not know this, but there are things other than steak and potatoes here in America.”

He laughed and it vibrated through my chest. “I cook steak very well and I believe in sticking to what you’re good at.”

“Afraid to fail?”

“Afraid? No, just averse to it. And how did you learn to cook?”

“Oh, I always—” I began, but then realized I was about to tell him about Karina. I realized I needed to tell him about her, but I still couldn’t even begin to think how I’d go about doing it. “It was either learn to cook or live off take outs.” It wasn’t a lie, which meant I only felt a small amount of guilt for ignoring the look of confusion on his face.

“Well, it smells incredible. Am I suitably dressed for lunch?” He motioned to his beautiful, shirtless body and my gaze raked over him, appreciating the tattoos, the muscles, and the surprisingly bronzed skin.

“That happens to be the exact dress code of this establishment.” He was even more beautiful as a man than he’d been in college. He’d added more muscle, but more than anything it was the confidence he wore as easily as he wore his expensive suits. It was more irresistible than I realized, especially when he was showing me glimpses of the Ilya I’d given my heart—and my body—to all those years ago.

We sat down for lunch on opposite sides of the table so that we were face to face.

“This is good. Very good.”

“It’s just a simple stir-fry. Lots of veggies, plus plenty of flavor.” It was a working mom’s go-to meal because it was easy and colorful.

“A very good simple stir-fry,” he shot back with a teasing smile.

“Thanks.” I rolled my eyes, but that didn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. Why was it so easy being with him now? Was I suffering from Stockholm Syndrome? Because, like it or not, I was not free to leave. I had to believe him when he said my life was in danger, but whatever the reason, he was essentially my captor. My breathtakingly handsome, sexy as hell captor. When had my smalltown life gotten so crazy?

Ilya’s laugh sounded and pulled me from my thoughts. “I’m almost afraid to ask what was going through your mind just now.”

I shrugged. “Just another episode of worst-case scenario, that’s all.”

His smile vanished. “I’d like to ask you something, but feel free to say no.”

“Ask.” Whatever it was, it couldn’t be worse than hiding out because his uncle wanted him to kill me.

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