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Shrugging, he slipped it between his lips and lit up. He wandered away from me, his attention alternating between his cigarette and his cell phone, texting away.
“What about the two in the alley?” I asked, rubbing my palms on the top of my knees. “Like, their bodies. Their car.”
“Gone.”
“Gone? Just like that?”
He exhaled smoke through his nose, like a dragon, and shot me a look that told me to stop asking questions.
Fat chance. He should have known better by now.
“What about the other one?” I was suddenly aware of my knees bouncing beneath my palms. Plastering my hands to the top of my legs, I tried to rein in my jumpy muscles.
“I thought we could use him.”
“We? As inwe?” I gestured between us.
He inhaled one last drag before snuffing the cigarette out in an ash tray on the small kitchen table. By the time he reclaimed his seat on the couch, he’d already popped a stick of wintergreen gum, the muscles and tendons in his jaw working casually. How was it possible to be sexy without even trying? He was chewing gum, for God’s sake.
And I shouldnotbe focused on how hot he was. I should be worried about police and investigations and the fact I fucking shot someone! Jesus Christ, Roan!
“You want your father to suffer?” Sasha raised his brows at me. “Let me show him what’s in store for him on another human.”
Following his train of thought made me grimace. “You’re going to torture that guy?”
“Yes.” Fuck, he didn’t even blink!
“Why?” I practically gasped the word. “Why not kill him and be done with it?”
“He was going to kill you. He doesn’t get off that easy,” Sasha replied, as if the answer was obvious. “Are you still hungry?”
“What?”
“Breakfast.” He glanced at his watch. “Well, brunch now. Right? Brunch? That’s the word?”
If he was anyone else, I would have thought he was fucking joking. “You cannot talk about torturing someone to death and then turn around and take me to brunch!”
“Why not?” Of course he blinkedthattime. Not over torture and death — food. “You’re hungry. Let’s go eat. It’s going to be a long day for me.” As he stood, he smacked my cheek lightly and motioned me to my feet.
I was shellshocked all over again, but somehow I did what he wanted, trudging toward the door.
This was so fucked up. I thought kidnapping my dad was the most illegal activity I’d ever participate in. Now, here I was, on my way to brunch after shooting someone and watching my boyfriend murder twomorepeople. As tempted as I was to ask about his total body count, I didn’t think I wanted to. It was probably astronomical given how blasé he was about the whole murder thing.
Before I could even help it, my mouth moved faster than my brain. “Do you evenknowhow many people you’ve killed? Like, a ballpark number?”
He flashed me a dazzling smile, accompanied by a dark laugh that gave me goosebumps. He was so beautiful, and utterly lethal. And he wasallmine.
27
SASHA
Ilya metus at the diner an hour later. When he approached our booth, he glanced between Roan and I, clearly trying to gauge which side was the safer option. I slid to the side, stretching my arm along the back of the red vinyl in invitation.
He cleared his throat and sat, his shoulders tensing when I draped my arm around them and pulled him closer.
“Seems you’ve been leaving some things out of the daily report,” I said quietly, digging my fingers into his bicep.
Ilya looked at Roan. I grabbed his jaw and turned his face toward me. “Don’t look at him. He’s not going to save you.”
