TAKING OVER TROFIM (Dominion of Brothers series Book 4) (4 page)

Trofim brushed Shay’s hand from his crotch before he could work him hard again, “You’re such a romantic.”

“Do you want romance?” Shay moved until he was behind him and pressed his body against Trofim’s. Shay’s long arms coming around Trofim’s waist and hugged at his hips, then Shay dropped his lips to kiss Trofim’s shoulder and brush his skin with a warm breath. “Sweetheart?”

Trofim took a deep breath and twisted out of Shay’s arms, “I want you to stay away from me.” He grabbed the rest of his clothes from the locker and stepped over to the bench to avoid further contact from Shay. He dropped his jeans on it, then proceeded to pull his dress shirt on.

~  *  ~

Shay watched Trofim’s retreat, “Not gonna happen.” He reached out to slip his hand under the shirt that had just blocked the view of his handsome Trofim, who in turn brushed his hand away and took another step back, putting the bench between them. Shay remained undeterred. He returned his back against the lockers and glanced in on Trofim’s things, even reaching in and moved a few things around. “You know my heart was doing double flips when I saw you on the river during the master’s race last fall. Not to mention it stopped beating all together when you ran away from me at the awards ceremony. I’m not about to let you do it again. You’ve run from me long enough.” Shay turned to face Trofim directly. “I love you, Trofim. Always have. Seeing you again, I know I never stopped, and I know damn well you love me or you wouldn’t put so much effort into running from me.” Shay dropped his hands into his jacket pockets and watched as Trofim continued to dress.

Trofim pulled his jeans up, adjusted his package and zipped up. “Maybe it’s something else I’m running from.” He stepped up brushing past Shay and grabbed his heavy jacket and scarf from the locker, slammed it shut and secured the lock on it.

Shay felt the grin coming on and he licked his lips.
Damn
— watching Trofim dress was almost as sexy as watching him undress, though the rewards were far better with the latter deed. “What is it then? Tell me what it is and I might leave you alone.” Shay’s mind was still locked on the man’s body.

Trofim’s face hardened, those cobalt eyes turning midnight with some painful rage he never voiced as he threw his jacket on and coiled the scarf around his neck, “Go home to your fiancé, Shay.” Trofim flipped his collar up, made a last tug on his jacket and headed out, “And stay away from me!”

Shay’s head fell back against the lockers, his smile evaporated as he watched the man storm away. Trofim hadn’t just been running from him, he was running from the broken heart they shared. However, that last part hurt the most, a dagger that scarred them both.

He banged his head against the metal several times, cursing each time.
His father and step-mother had gone and printed the article in the paper announcing his engagement to Sarah Londonaire without his permission. Just days after the championship races where his father had watched the grid lock of oars on his scull.

The screw up cost his team their advantage on the other crews. And when the Greenwich Queens Rowing Crew was called up to receive first place, his father saw what had been the reason. There on the platform, with his teammates, was Shay’s ex-lover, Trofim Laszkovi. As beautiful as before and all the more buff. Shay knew that very moment, just as he had known five years ago, he never wanted to be with another man for as long as he lived. He and Trofim were meant to be together.

Five years of feeling utterly lost in his life burned away in those few seconds he saw Trofim. Recalling the small memory that his father lost to a new senator that voted in favor to legalize gay marriage in the state of New York made all the more sweeter seeing Trofim up there, taking the championship. Alongside his teammates who were publicly known for being an all gay male team.

Shay pulled his hand from a pocket and stared down at the item he’d taken out of Trofim’s locker. Shay was determined to do whatever it took to get Trofim back.

For starters, Trofim was going to want his blackberry back.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Trofim sat inside his car, staring up at the second floor of the boathouse as the last of the twilight faded to nighttime. His mind panic stricken with the memories of his past.

~~ The Columbia boathouse hadn’t been much different from this one. That’s where they were when it happened. The rest of the team had already left when he and Shay made love in the shower. Only, Shay had forgotten his father, who was still Senator at the time, planned to pick him up after practice for a fundraiser function. Trofim and Shay were going at it, hot and heavy. The world didn’t even exist for them— that was until Benjamin Wilks walked in on them.

A few days later, Senator Wilks’ goons began delivering the threats. Pyotr and the rest of his brothers were ready to fight back, but Trofim wouldn’t risk his family to the threats that included them too.

His brother Darko, at the time was dating Fashon Rayneux, a local hot shot fashion designer. Darko only had to inquire once and Trofim was thrust into the modeling industry nearly over night. It had been his ticket out; away from the man he couldn’t trust himself to keep his hands off. In those five years, and being back here now, he realized nothing had changed. He was still unable to pull himself away from Shay Wilks.~~

Trofim took a staggering deep breath and blew it out with a huff, the backs of his fingers coming up to discard the tear from his eyes, “Shit. Shit. Shit.” This just wasn’t good. It felt good, but no
good
could come of it. His head shook with the pain and mental anguish that steeped within, he just wanted to come back home and be with his family. It never occurred to him that Shay would ever risk another encounter with the two of them.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Later that night, Trofim found himself running late having sat at the restaurant far too long; too mentally fried to decide what to eat— and then just picked at it— staring into his past rather than his plate. Trofim was only partially grateful for having had plans set for the night, hoping the club would take his mind off of this evening.

Trofim’s cab pulled up in front of Club Pain and dropped him off. Once inside it didn’t take long to find Fashon and the others. They were all hanging around at the front of the club at Amelia Quinneth’s VIP booth like always, but there was no sign of her presence tonight.

Fashon came around the corner just as Trofim was getting a drink from the bar, “There you are. I called to see if you were going to make it.”

“It didn’t ring—” Trofim patted at his jacket for his phone, then a sudden realization swept over him when his search was coming up empty.

Fashon gave him a disbelieving grin, “Your boyfriend answered, said you left it at his place.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Trofim cursed under his breath. His fingers immediately raking through his pile of wavy dark hair. His world was pre-ordained in that phone. He couldn’t afford to go one day without it.

Fashon pointed a finger at him, which meant to take him serious just then. “Look, you have two fittings tomorrow and a photo shoot at the mercy of the photographer’s schedule. My suggestion? You go get your phone.
Tonight
.”

Fashon had become a good friend and he was fun to hang out with afterhours, but Fashon was also still Trofim’s boss in a sense. And when it came to the fashion industry, Fashon was strictly business, and there was no tolerance for being unprepared.

Trofim spun around, more to hide his panic than anything. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He shook his head. No doubt Shay did this deliberately.
Damn him
.
Bad enough the man rocked his world just walking up to him as he did this evening, but to fuck with him like this. They could never have a life together; Senator Wilks had seen to that and made it clear he’d ruin everyone’s life if they so much as tried. It was only asking for trouble, with this little stunt, Shay was pulling— knowing how Trofim felt while Shay himself was engaged to be married. To a woman no less.
Fuck
. He should throttle Shay just for trying to ring his feelings like this.

Trofim turned back to Fashon, “Mind if I use your phone?”

Fashon nudged his partner, Yigal, who passed his over to use. Trofim quickly stepped out of the club as he dialed up his own phone, so as not to make a show of his conversation with the man expected to answer on the other end.

A few rings and the familiar, and rather smug, voice answered over his own phone, “
Well, it certainly took you long enough to give in.”
Shay answered, disposing of all the other greetings.

“I’m not giving in. I need my phone for work tomorrow and you shouldn’t be answering my phone that way.”

“
In what way? As a concerned companion who has taken diligent notes of your callers?”

Shit
. Trofim cursed under his breath, “We’re not companions anymore. How many calls?”

“
We are. You just have to be reminded of it.”

“Dammit, Shay. How many people have you talked to?” Trofim’s raised voice yelled into the phone now.

“
Relax, only one. Your fluffer called to confirm your times for tomorrow.”

Fluffer? What the hell was he—?
Bethany
. She was the regular makeup-
slash-
assistant for Hugo, the photographer Trofim was working with tomorrow. “Dammit, Shay! You had no right taking my phone.” Trofim was back to yelling.

“
I had to do something; you were walking out on me.”

“I walked out five years ago.”

“
Yes, but now you’ve back state side for a year now and still it has taken me this long just to pin you to one spot. Did you think I would just let you run and hide again?”

“What is this? Why are you doing this?” Trofim began to walk in circles.

“
I’m taking over.”
The response came back fast, short and rather contrite.

“Over what?” Trofim was ready to pull his hair out as he paced the sidewalk, arguing with the one man who knew his weakness.
Him
.

“
Over you, Trofim.
”

Trofim’s pacing slammed to a halt. The air and the entire city seemed to shut down in utter silence for a duration
of a moment. Even his pounding heart grew quiet and Trofim could hear the deep breath of the man on the other end of the phone.

“
I’m not about to let you disappear again.
”
Shay’s voice came across like a husky whisper.

“You’re insane.” Trofim grumbled.

“
Well, I certainly hope not, I did after all pass my licensing exam. However— can you blame me if I am? After having to live without you all this time?”

Trofim refused to go down this road with him. Shay knew damn well what had happened or at least most of it and now he was engaged. So apparently Shay had managed to move on just fine without him. “I need my phone back, Shay.”

“
You’ll have to come get it then.”
Shay’s tone turned alluring.

“I’m not coming to your place, wherever it is your living now.”

“
Sadly, that’s not an option anyway.”

Trofim felt the sinking in his chest when Shay said that. Like his guts had just been ripped out.
No, he would not willingly go, but to be told he
couldn’t
— that was information he didn’t need to hear directly. Obviously, Shay was living with his woman-fiancé.
Why wouldn’t he after all?
Trofim stepped to the wall of the building and dropped forward, banging his head against the bricks. Why the hell was he even doing this to himself?

Shay’s voice broke the silent feud in his mind.
“I’m leaving for work in a few. They have me on graveyard every other weekend and it’s my weekend. You can come see me there.”

“Which hospital?”

“
Queens.”

Trofim let out a defiant grumble
. Could this get any worse?
“Pavle works there.” Trofim stammered over the phone line.

“
I told you I was doing my internship there. Weren’t you listening? How else do you think I found out about your practice?”
Shay paused a moment, letting out a soft chuckle
. “Guess I spun you about a lot harder than I anticipated.”
The seductive voice on the phone paused again and then his voice softened, he almost sounded like he cared, “
Come see me, Trofim. I’ll make it up to you.
”

“I’m coming to get my phone. Not to come see you.”

“
You’ll see me.”

Trofim could just hear the smile in Shay’s tone as he hung up.

Shit. Shit. Shit. He did not need this.

~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~  *  ~

Once Trofim arrived at Queens he went in and Trofim tapped on the glass to get the nurse’s attention, to the ER, “Doctor Laszkovi?”

“And you are?” The nurse at the reception counter looked at him from behind the glass partition.

“Family.”

Wordlessly, she raised her arm while the pen in her hand pointed back over her shoulder as she buzzed him through.

Trofim made his way through the double doors into the main hall of the emergency area. His eyes scanning the nurse’s station, the rooms and curtained off areas as he passed. The halls were filled with the hum of pain and illnesses of a typical Saturday night of a New York hospital.

He’d never find his brother this way
. He spotted one of the medical techs and approached, "You happen to know where Dr. Laszkovi is?”

“Yeah, just went in room-112.” The chunky-sized man pointed a few doors down on the adjacent hall.

“Thanks.” Trofim followed the direction and found his brother, Pavle, examining an elderly man inside. He stood quietly just outside the room, knowing not to interrupt. Bad enough showing up at all when it wasn’t a real emergency, but he’d take his brother’s scolding if it meant bypassing Shay all together and still manage to walk out with his phone.