Resurrected King - Kaye Blue Page 0,30

and like all other good and greedy capitalists, he moved on to more illicit and more profitable business. Like I said, garden variety,” Riker said, rolling his eyes.

I knew all this, could quote it chapter and verse, but listened to Riker with fresh ears without letting my emotion, my past, cloud my judgment.

“So, what is he into now?” I asked.

Riker shrugged. “Standard stuff. Drugs, guns. Human trafficking, which fits for a scumbag like him. Some other specialized stuff like government destabilization.”

I knew the last well. I’d been trained by the man, after all.

“Other shit designed to look legitimate, but I don’t buy it,” Riker said.

“All consistent with what I know of him,” I said.

“But it’s been quiet,” Riker said.

“Too quiet?”

“Yeah. Outside of those fires, there’s been nothing. Which makes no sense with Denis Federov being out of the picture.”

“Etienne has that deal with the leaders in the old country.”

“And I hope it sticks, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Me either. And we need to keep an eye on the Commander. We can’t underestimate him, and we need to be prepared.”

“Always,” Riker said.

I appreciated his competence and his confidence, but I knew from personal experience of the devastation that the Commander could bring.

“This gonna be a problem, Ghost?” he asked.

His tone didn’t change, but I knew the question was more than it seemed and as close to an inquiry about my well-being that I would ever get.

Would I be okay?

I would.

Especially now that I had Adora to think about.

I nodded. “I’m fine. The past is over. What’s important now is keeping him contained.”

“And your other distraction?”

Riker looked at me skeptically.

“What distraction?” I asked.

“What distraction?” he mimicked. “You think I don’t know you stashed some girl in one of the safe houses?”

“Was it supposed to be a secret?” I countered.

“You’re acting like it, or you didn’t think that was worth a mention?”

“I think it’s my business.”

“Make sure it doesn’t affect mine,” he said.

I didn’t bother to respond, knowing that this was more than Riker being a jerk. He’d been as happy for Sasha as he could be for anyone, but like Etienne, he had no patience for affairs of the heart.

Given how turned around I was now, I was inclined to agree with him.

“It won’t be a problem,” I finally responded.

“Good. I’ll let you know what I find out. You do the same.”

I nodded then went inside to speak to Etienne.

The conversation was direct and to the point, something about Etienne I had never appreciated as much as I did now.

I left within fifteen minutes, practically running to her.

I’d told Riker it wouldn’t be a problem.

Wondered if that could still be true.

Seventeen

Mikhail

“Something on your mind?” Adora asked later.

She was exactly where she should have been. Exactly where I wanted her.

In my arms.

I didn’t respond. She waited, and I knew if I looked at her, I would see the look of patience and expectation.

“You trying to read me?” I asked.

There was no hostility in the words, or at least I didn’t intend any, but with the roughness in my voice, especially when contrasting with intimacy of a moment, I could see how she I might think there was.

But if she did, she didn’t show it.

Instead, she traced a finger down my side, the touch familiar, intimate, unlike any I’d felt before.

Given what we had done together, it was strange to think of a touch that way, but it struck me that this is exactly what this was.

Intimacy.

Me and her lying in bed together about to talk.

It was amazing, as amazing as the sex I couldn’t get enough of.

“I’m not reading you. Just asking a question. After that conversation earlier today, a talk seemed in order.”

Yeah, I probably did need to explain.

When I’d heard she’d seen Howard, I hadn’t been too upset. Had expected it even.

The bakery was his, at least on paper, so there was no reason not to expect him to be involved.

But after my conversation with Riker and an entire day spent thinking about her, I’d been on edge, and thinking of Howard had pushed me over.

“Do my questions bother you?”

“That’s not an answer, but no. Why would they?”

“I get the sense you don’t like being questioned. Actually, I think you’d do anything you can to avoid it.”

“Maybe, but not with you. And to answer your question, I maybe overreacted about you and Howard,” I said.

“Maybe just a little,” she responded, laughing.

“So you gave me the basics, but tell me more about what happened with you and Howard.”

“You really want to