Sordid (34 page)

I could tell myself I was doing it for trust, or out of worry for my family, but it was a lie. Faced with the sudden decision, my dark connection to Luka had grown too powerful to sever.

“Yes, sir,” I said. “I’m fine.” I squeezed out a tight smile.

It did the trick, because the officer handed the plastic card back to Luka. “You can’t park here. Find somewhere else for your conversation.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you.”

We hurried to the front seat, and as soon as I was buckled, we were off. We rode in total silence until he was back on the freeway and I could breathe again.

His word was gentle. “Why?”

“What?”

“I could be sitting in the back of his squad car right now.”

I watched the reflectors on the guardrails blur past as I assembled my thoughts in my head. “I don’t want that.”

“Why?” He repeated it with more urgency, and perhaps it was tinted with hope.

Because I
cared
about him. “Because you and I,” I said, taking a deep breath, “are similar creatures.”

He rewarded me with his perfect smile.

π

Goran Markovic’s Christmas Eve party started in less than an hour. I put on my blue dress and finished getting ready, but apprehension bounced around inside me like a dozen pinballs. Luka was in the walk-in closet, his collar up, and he was balancing the ends of his tie when I appeared in the doorway.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” I admitted. His family was criminals, and I wasn’t anxious to meet any more of them.

“Why?” He looped the end of his tie over the other.

“I don’t know. Probably because the last time I saw your father I was naked from the waist down. And, oh yeah, he threatened to kill me and my family.”

“That won’t happen.” Luka slowed to a stop, abandoning his goal, and the tie fell open. He encased me in his arms so his hands were warm against the exposed skin on my back. “That’s over. You’re mine, and they know it. No one would touch you, so don’t even think about them.”

It was hard to do. I had a lifetime of caring about other’s opinions to brush off. His family was going to look down on the poor farm girl who had no business being in their lives.

Of course Luka could read the thoughts going on in my head. “Fuck them, whatever they think. You’re smart, and beautiful, and
pure
.” His eyes filled with intensity. “They’ll be envious. Maybe even jealous of what you have, but it doesn’t matter, because they’re beneath you, Addison. Every last one of them, including me.”

I squeezed my grip on his shoulders to support myself, and gazed at him with disbelief. He was the most confident person I’d ever met, and he thought I was better than him?

“We make an appearance,” he added, “and then we’re out of there.”

The party was strangely normal. The Markovic family was large, and the main living area was packed with adults talking while kids darted through parents’ legs and stole cookies from the dessert tray before dinner. The nine-foot-tall Christmas tree was decorated exclusively in gold and looked like it belonged in a department store rather than a home. I’d always preferred the trees littered with homemade ornaments in various states of wear. Plus, the gold was gaudy and over the top.

Luka kept his arm around me as we made our rounds. I was introduced to dozens of people, but never spoke unless directly asked a question. Not only was I extremely uncomfortable, but this would speed along our exit.

Vasilije lingered in the kitchen, drinking a beer and talking with two men, one of whom I recognized. Michael, Dimitrije’s bodyguard. Vasilije glanced at his older brother, then to me, and a smile quirked on his lips.

The relationship between brothers was strange. Luka rarely talked about Vasilije. He’d seemed just as envious of his younger brother as I was mine, when it came to being popular and well-liked. But like me, he was also fiercely protective. Vasilije was eager to get involved in the criminal side of the family business, but both Dimitrije and Goran made it clear they wanted Luka to step up. As reluctant as Luka was, I sensed he’d do whatever he could to prolong the inevitable for his brother.

“Hey there, naughty schoolgirl,” Vasilije said. His gaze wandered over my dress, and . . . holy crap, was he checking me out?

I tried to emulate Luka’s confidence. “Hey there, Satan.”

Luka laughed. It was brief, but it was amazing to hear the genuine sound. Vasilije laughed as well, but his was wicked. His expression was lecherous, and instinctively I shifted closer to Luka.

“Her name’s Addison,” Luka said.

“Yeah, I know.” Vasilije’s face melted into boredom. “Dad’s told me all about your
wife
. I’ll try to keep out of your way.”

“What?”

Vasilije took the final sip from his bottle of beer and dropped it into the recycling bin nearby with a loud clank. “I’m coming back to the house after the break’s over.”

“Why? What’s wrong with your frat?”

“Nothing. But you have to be a student at Randhurst, and I’m currently not anymore.”

Anger seeped into the corners of Luka’s face. “You flunked out? Jesus Christ, Vasilije.”

His brother was indifferent. “College isn’t for everyone. I tried it, and determined it’s not for me.” Displeasure smeared on Luka’s face and Vasilije rolled his eyes. “It’s a big fucking house, get over it.”

The hairs on the back of my neck lifted and tingled. Someone was watching me. I glanced over my shoulder and instantly found Dimitrije, who stared at me with disdain. His attention slowly drifted back to the man he was talking to. The conversation seemed . . . intense.

Vasilije must have noticed what I was looking at. “The fucking Russians. They keep pushing, and Dad’s gonna have to do something.”

“Be quiet.” Luka’s tone was stern.

We all watched the exchange in silence. When the man left, Dimitrije’s attention returned to me, and under his exacting gaze, I shivered.

“You’re cold?” Luka’s palm slid up and down my arm, trying to warm me.

I pressed my lips together and nodded. Around Dimitrije, my bones turned to ice.

“All right.” Luka pressed his hand into the small of my back, urging me deeper into the kitchen. “I have to introduce you to my uncle, and then we can go.”

Goran Markovic was as intimidating as his younger brother Dimitrije. Goran’s nose wasn’t perfectly straight, as if it had been broken and never healed right, and his eyes were cold and intelligent. He stood taller than his brother, with more gray in his hair, but it made him look distinguished. Wise, and calculating.

“This is my girlfriend,” Luka said.

“Addison.” Goran gave a similar smile as Luka’s. Only a corner turned up. He extended a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

There was no way to stop the tremble as I shook his hand. My voice was choked, barely able to be heard over the party. “You too, Mr. Markovic.”

His hand was like iron, and he didn’t release his grip. “I need to say thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“For getting Luka to agree to look at my finances. I’m not sure if he told you, but he discovered my last accountant was stealing from me.”

“Oh?” I glanced at Luka, but his expression was flat. His eyes were tight, disguising whatever emotion he was feeling. “No, he doesn’t talk about that with me.”

Relief took over when Goran released my hand. Again he flashed the pleased smile. “Well, I’m glad to finally have someone I trust looking after my investments.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Luka said. “Are you investing in a private wine club downtown? I was putting together the tax documents this morning and you spent five figures there this year.”

Goran’s expression shifted as if recalling a good memory. “No, not investing. They carry an exclusive wine I can’t get elsewhere.” His gaze turned to me. “Talking taxes on Christmas Eve? While I appreciate his work ethic, do you?”

I wasn’t sure what to respond with, and looked to Luka for help.

But it wasn’t needed. Goran chuckled softly. “You probably do. Luka says you’re driven. And he told me you’re going to medical school. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

His gaze held mine just a fraction too long, and my shiver was back. He eyed me as if assessing my potential, and all I could do was think about how this man had ordered the death of Luka’s mother. Goran reached abruptly into his suit jacket pocket and retrieved a buzzing phone, then motioned to the party.

“I’ll let you kids get back to it. Excuse me.”

We drifted toward the main room, and exhaustion slammed into me. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could handle being the doll in a pretty dress on Luka’s arm. I whispered to him. “Can we go?”

“I already texted our driver.”

I sagged into the warm back seat as soon as the car arrived—my dress of silk and lace weighed a million pounds under my coat. Luka loosened the knot at his neck, and his hand came to rest on my knee. I shifted closer and leaned into him.

It’d been two months since we’d sat in costumes in the back seat of one of his cars, heading toward his house. We were still in costumes now, but everything else was different.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said.

My breath hitched. “Thank you.”

I set my hand on top of his, and traced patterns on the back of his palm. The only sound was the pavement steadily rolling beneath tires as the car carried us through the night. He looked beautiful tonight, too, but then, he always did.

“I paid off your student loan.”

I stopped tracing my patterns. “You did what?”

“Your interest rate was ridiculous, and it pissed me off. So I paid it.”

My mind floundered. What was his motivation? What angle was he working? “I can’t let you do that.”

“Yes, you can.” His eyebrow bent into an upside-down V. “It’s already done, anyway. They’re not going to give me my money back.”

“Luka—”

“I didn’t do it to trap you. There’s no strings attached, so you’ll accept this from me, understand?” His voice was quiet, yet firm. I nodded slowly, too stunned to render an answer. His displeased look softened. “Good. Merry Christmas, Addison.”

Holy crap. His hand beneath mine turned over, and he laced his fingers with mine. Such a simple action, and yet it carried so much meaning.

“Merry Christmas, Luka.”

Chapter

Twenty-Five

Vasilije moved in
the week after New Year’s.

His room was in the middle of the second floor, and I was grateful there was an empty guest bedroom between the brothers as a buffer. Since Vasilije had failed out of school, Dimitrije got him a job in sales at the dealership. Luka was in the back office, so he said he didn’t see much of his brother.

I didn’t either. Luka asked me to steer clear of him, and I had no problem following that order.

My spring semester was a lighter load than the fall, but still kept me busy, and I spent most of my afternoons in the office, which Luka had forbidden Vasilije from entering. It had become our space as much as Luka’s bedroom had.

“He finally asked her out,” I said to Luka one afternoon.

He looked up from his desk to spy me curled up on the couch. I still had the blanket over my lap even though the fire was going in the fireplace.

“Gavin?”

“Yeah. He’s in my psychology lecture.”

Luka sat back in his chair, intrigued. “What’d Vanessa say?”

“She said yes. You’d think it wouldn’t work between them, because they have nothing in common.”

“They like each other,” he said. “Sometimes that’s enough.”

I supposed that was true. I stretched my arms up above my head and closed my textbook, setting it on the table.

“Are you done for the night?” he asked. To anyone else, his tone would sound benign, but I knew better.

He had plans for this evening. My blood pressure rose. “Yes.”