we were never coming back here,” Colton said, car idling in the seedy, weedy parking lot.
“You can wait in the car.” Vlad got out with his crutches. He banged on the door with his fist, and when the window slid open, he held up his coin. A moment of palpable surprise from the eyes staring out at him made him scowl. “Let me in.”
Colton appeared beside him as the door squeaked open. Byron ushered them inside, a leery look on his scraggly face. “He’s not going to like this. He said you’re banned.”
“I don’t give a shit what he said.”
Byron made a quick decision about the difference in their two sizes and told them to go inside. Colton was blessedly silent as he followed Vlad up the ramp and through the heavy curtain. When they walked inside, Roman didn’t even look up from where he arranged a delicate array of cheese curls. “Didn’t think you’d have the balls to show up here again.”
“I need a hit.”
Roman snorted.
“Ädelost,” Vlad said, pointing at the blue-veiny Swiss cheese. He scanned the day’s selection and landed on a semihard from Denmark. “Samsø. And . . . Époisses.”
Colton and Roman both reeled back. The creamy French cheese was known for its pungency. Only the most hard-core of cheese connoisseurs could stand its aroma.
“Dude, no,” Colton said.
“That is strong cheese, my friend,” Roman said.
“The stronger the better.” Vlad pulled his wallet from his back pocket.
“A man only drowns himself in cheese like that when he’s looking for a fight,” Roman said.
Colton lifted an eyebrow. “Or when he’s just been in one.”
Vlad lifted his chin to the end of the table. “Throw some of that Edammer in there too.” Because why the fuck not? He was going to drown his sorrows in the decadent nutty flavor alongside some chilled peaches until he passed out. And then maybe he could wake up and realize it had all been a dream, and she was not going back to Russia.
Roman tossed him the bag, and Vlad dropped two hundred dollars on the table.
“Tell your wife I said hello.”
Vlad growled, and Colton dragged him away. “What the hell is going on?” he asked, helping Vlad into the car. He threw the crutches in the back and jogged around to the driver’s side. “I mean it, Vlad. You either tell me what’s going on or—”
Vlad ripped open the bag. The pungent, offensive odor of the Époisses immediately filled the cab of Colton’s truck. Colton gagged and opened a window. “Christ. That smells like athlete’s foot.”
Vlad tore off a hunk of the Samsø, set it on his tongue, and rolled it around in his mouth. “It’s an acquired taste.”
“Caviar is an acquired taste. That is the end stages of gangrene.” Colton gagged again as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Start talking.”
“She’s going back to Russia to find her father.”
“Elena?”
“Yes, of course Elena.”
“What the fuck? Why now?”
Vlad relayed the key details of what Elena had told him.
“And you’re not going to stop her?”
“What’s the point? She was always going to leave me.”
“If you still think that after all this time, then you haven’t learned a goddamn thing. Have you been paying attention at all?”
Colton made a call on his hands-free calling device.
Mack answered immediately. “What’s the story? Is everything okay?”
“No,” Colton said, glaring pointedly at Vlad. “Assemble the bros. We have a magnificent ass to kick.”
The minute they pulled back into the driveway at Colton’s, Claud and Michelle met them on the front porch.
“What did you do?” Claud demanded.
“Vlad, what is going on?” Michelle, at least, used a nice tone of voice.
“I like that girl,” Claud said, following Vlad inside. “If you hurt her, you will answer to me.”
The guys dragged him to the basement. The yelling commenced as soon as Vlad explained himself.
“So . . . you gave her an ultimatum?” Malcolm looked ready to tackle him.
“No! I told her specifically that I was not going to make her choose.”
“Which is an ultimatum to a woman who thinks she doesn’t have a choice,” Mack argued.
Vlad felt a kick inside his chest.
“Oh, is that a light bulb going off?” Mack snorted.
Malcolm sat down next to him and settled a hand on Vlad’s knee. “You’re the heart and soul of this friendship. But sometimes the most tender people can be the most stubborn, because they have the most to lose when things go wrong.”
“She is the stubborn one.”
The guys all exchanged a get a load of this douchebag look. “Vlad, why do you