Page 72 of Kept in the Dark
“You’re sure we’re safe here in the meantime?”
“There is no safer place,” he assures me without a hint of hesitation.
It occurs to me suddenly that though this forthrightness is new—I’m more used to having to pry details from him—Dimitri has never lied to me. He doesn’t mince words. He doesn’t dress up the truth to make itbetter, even when it’s unflattering. Lies of omission are one thing, and he obviously refuses to answer altogether sometimes, but when he bothers to say something, he says it with his whole chest. There’s an easiness to that.
My stomach growls loudly, and I wince. His eyes fall to it, and he frowns a little, like it’s his fault I’m hungry or something. “When you are ready, we will go get you breakfast, and I can introduce you to the others.”
Worry worms low in my gut.The others.“How many people live here?”
“Three. Four, including me.”
I nearly melt into a puddle of relief. That’s not so bad. Though I’d probably be more nervous about meeting a trio of seasoned killers if I didn’t have a big Russian bear at my back.
A big Russian bear who wants to show me that I can trust him. Who’s going to do whatever it takes to keep me safe, to get me my life back.
Biting down on a smile, I finish taping around the bandage.
22
Nicole
A charming murderer
The handshake is firm, but warm and polite. “Nice to meet you, James.”
“People who don’t have giant Russian logs up their asses call me Mac.”
Dimitri’s brows come down. “It is how you first introduced yourself to me. And you, as Wesley.”
The big guy with a model’s face and golden retriever energy ignores Dimitri’s explanation. “But I’ll answer to anything—Jim, Mac, Mackenzie, Kenzo, sharpshooter, hey you—”
“Pretty boy,” the other one—Wesley—pipes in.
“Right. Just don’t call me late for dinner.” He flashes me a grin that feels weird—unexpected, like something meant to put me at ease.
I roll my lips inward to keep my jaw from falling slack. My dad used to make that joke all the time.
“Anyway, would you give me a hand with a jump, D? Battery won’t turn over; must have left a light on.”
“Da, I will assist,” Dimitri answers, though his attention is on me. I can tell he’s watching for signs that I’m too uncomfortable to be left alone.
Before turning to leave, James reaches out and shakes my hand again. “Glad to meet you, Nicole. I’m a big fan of your work,” he says with a cheeky grin and a meaningful glance at Dimitri’s twin black eyes, so stark and purple against his pale skin.
I try not to balk or laugh, and I’m caught halfway between both reactions with a disbelieving snort. Wesley joins in with a low chuckle of his own, and my eyes cut over to him.
James may make terrible jokes, and Wesley may have kind of a hot nerd air about him, but I’m trying not to be fooled by it. I know they’re all as dangerous as each other. Dimitri’s team may lack the overtly sinister air he has, but they aren’t regular Joes—I have to remember that.
I just… expected a group of men who “do bad things to bad people” to be more severe—serious, gruff guys who did things like pick their teeth with Bowie knives and show you their kill souvenirs just to watch the blood drain from your face. I didn’t expect a heavily tattooed British junk food addict and a Southern boy who looks like he’d take being called earnest as a compliment. I wasn’t prepared for how playful their dynamic would be.
“Go ahead.” I shrug at Dimitri, feeling his eyes on me, still asking the question. I don’t need a babysitter. He trusts his team—he wouldn’t leave me if he didn’t.
“I will not be gone long.”
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t get too lonely,” Wesley offers, winking suggestively at me.
Dimitri scowls at him, crossing his arms and letting the unvoiced threat hang in the air. After a few seconds, Wesley clears his throat awkwardly and holds up his hands in surrender. “I will keep my hands, eyes, and famously sharp wit to myself.”
My lips twitch. He’s a charming murderer, I’ll give him that.
