Page 64 of Beneath the Light of the Moon
A foreign object?
He opened his mouth to speak, but Cristiano took his silence as an answer all on its own. “I think it’d be best if you came by the morgue too and saw for yourself.” Cristiano accelerated on the other end of the line, his destination the same.
“Let me change my clothes and I’ll head that way,” Mikko said.
“Okay, I’ll send you the address. See you when you get there.”
With that, they both hung up, leaving Mikko with more questions than answers.
While Ivan’s reputation wasn’t the best, it wasn’t any worse than most of the men Mikko worked with. Mikko’s associates usually remained within their own sectors of the city. It prevented internal conflict, for the most part. And what couldn’t be prevented, Mikko and his men squashed, snuffing out the root of the problem before it became a bigger one.
But with Ivan, he thought he’d done that.
“Should’ve killed him like I taught you,”his father’s voice echoed inhis head. Pressing his palms against the cool panes of glass, Mikko pushed off. The frigid temperature irritated the burn scars on his left hand, but now was not the time to dwell on old wounds.
Turning and heading toward his bedroom, Mikko checked his phone for the address Cristiano sent. He already had an idea where it was, but he wanted to make sure. Before he got that far another message caught his attention.
Ah, fuck, about that…
It was from Anika, her response coming in only a couple minutes after he’d sent his.
Anika:Haven’t you heard of foreplay?
Anika:Besides, the foot IS an erogenous zone
The thought of kissing her instep flashed across his mind—
With a sigh, he closed their message thread and changed his clothes so he could meet up with his friend. Her, and her schemes, would have to wait.
21
Vigilance is Key
Mikko
The ever persistent rain plaguing the Pacific Northwest had stopped, leaving the night sky clear and devoid of any clouds. Only half of the moon was illuminated, leaving the other side to be swathed in shadow, hiding its pockmarked surface from the rest of the world for a couple more nights.
Mikko relished in the wind blowing across his body. With the rain gone, he’d opted to ride his motorcycle again. He longed for another moment of quietude before meeting up with Cristiano. It was risky since the weather was unpredictable this time of year, but he’d chance it anyway. Only God knew what was about to be unveiled to them both. Although he had a sneaky suspicion it had to do with his missing car keys and spliced security footage.
The cool night air allowed him tofinallyget Anika’s scent out of his nose and off his skin. Despite multiple feet separating them at the restaurant, it didn’t stop his keen nose from detecting it. He’d been in her house for fuck’s sake; he knew everything about her.
City traffic dwindled as the clock ticked closer to midnight, his bike’s engine roaring along the empty highways. Mist still faintly coated the asphalt. It stuck to his leather jacket and thick sweatshirt underneath and pebbled on his visor. His quick pace prevented the droplets from lingering, the wind whisking them up and off his helmet.
Slowing slightly when his exit approached, he glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was following him. While he was certain he could handle whatever Anika was planning behind the scenes, he wouldn’t be caught unaware. Nothing but the mundane street lights glowed back at him.
After exiting the interstate, Mikko rode a couple of blocks into an area of the city consisting mainly of one story businesses, historic homes, and tree-lined roads. The streets blurred as he rode by, each facade morphing into the next. All brick or stone, all eerily quiet because of the late night hour.
Some of the buildings thinned out as empty swaths of asphalt parking lots popped up all while he pushed on. Among the uncanny silence, Mikko’s motorcycle roared. His conspicuous presence was a small price to pay to feel the night air threading through his clothes.
At Cristiano’s directions, Mikko pulled into the next lot he came across, and was relieved to spot his friend’s gray Mercedes glinting underneath the street lights. They were far and few between, but his friend had managed to find one to park under. Mikko did the same.
As his foot swept the motorcycle’s kickstand down into place, a wave of annoyance rippled through him. Things had spiraled out of control so quickly, and he felt like he was still playing catch up. Hopefully this visit cleared up some of his incessant questions.
“I told you that you weren’t good enough.”Mikko shook off his father’s voice, the faded memory resurfacing at the worst time. The thought enraged him, and suddenly he was eleven again. Powerless. Helpless.
Ripping his helmet off angrily—gloves fighting for purchase on the rain-slicked material—Mikko proceeded toward the darkened doorway of the mortuary. Cristiano was inside, and he didn’t want to keep him waiting.
Dew clung to him, a dampness settling into his bones, and already he was dreaming of a shower. He’d turn it as hot as it’d go, the scalding water sure to erase the chill. And the illusion of Anika’s touches that he could still fucking feel all these weeks later.
