time telling him no.
Ivan, on the other hand, not so much.
Rot in your four-by-six cell, asshole. Right next to dear old Daddy.
A dull ache spread throughout her chest as she thought of Mikhail, again. Sure, he’d done some shady things in his short life, but it wasn’t like he’d had much of a choice. None of them had.
But as they got older, it was clear which brother wanted to get away from the Volkov way of life and which one thrived on it. And no matter what Mikhail had done in the past, the one thing that will always stick out in her mind, the one thing Juliet would never forget, was his final act against their father.
The one meant to keep her safe. The same one that got him killed.
Pushing those thoughts away, she returned her focus to the man sitting across from her. His skin’s golden tone from where the sun had kissed him was a little darker than she remembered, and with the beard no longer hiding his face, she could truly see just how handsome he really was.
God, he’s still beautiful.
The leather jacket he’d been wearing had been wiped down and was now hanging over the back of his chair, and the clean, white t-shirt he had on stretched in the most delicious way across his broad shoulders and taut chest.
Two full-sleeve tattoos were partially exposed, the dark markings looking crisp and powerful beneath the overhead lamp. Juliet thought of the others she knew he had, and just like that, the image of him lying naked beneath her flashed behind her eyes.
Juliet had committed his tattoos to memory, as if they were a treasure map that led to his soul. Intricate and detailed, some were simple designs while others represented specific things. Meaningful things known only to him.
But it was the ones across his chest she remembered most.
Scrolled in the most beautiful font she’d ever seen were the words La Vida Loca, Spanish for ‘The Crazy Life’. Beneath that in large, gorgeous block numbers was 1983.
Juliet had asked him about it the first time they’d made love. He’d been open about those, telling her the year was for when he was born and that the saying across it had been added when he’d gotten old enough to realize just how crazy real life could be.
Ain’t that the truth.
“You wanna tell me what happened tonight?”
His deep voice broke through her subconscious thoughts again.
She raised an onyx brow. “You wanna tell me why you’re here?”
One corner of his kissable lips curled upward. “You first.”
“Fine.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “I was doing some work at home and got hungry. I went into the kitchen with Lydia, and I was looking in the fridge when I heard a noise coming from upstairs.”
“Is that when you called the police?”
“No, that’s when I grabbed my gun and went upstairs.”
Surprise left him blinking. “You did what?”
“I wasn’t going to call the police just because I heard a noise, Jay. I wanted to be sure.”
“Bet you were sure when that gun was pointed at your head, weren’t ya?”
The snarky comment set her off.
“What’s your problem?” She shot up so fast her chair nearly toppled over. “You asked me what happened, and I gave you an answer. I’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted to hear.”
“This isn’t about what I want, Jules.” Jay stood, too. “It’s about your complete disregard for your own safety.”
“My safety stopped being any of your business when you decided to disappear two years ago.”
“I didn’t fucking disappear.”
“Funny. That’s not how I remember it.”
“Please tell me, then.” He seethed. “Just exactly how do you remember it? Because what I remember is you being dragged out of your home by a bunch of fucking Feds while I was being cuffed with my face smashed against your living room floor.”
His voice boomed off the room’s thin walls, initiating a few taps by their neighbor and a not-so-polite request that they keep their voices down.
He’s right. You were the one who vanished.
That annoying little voice was right. She was the one who’d left him behind. Not that she’d had any choice in the matter.
“Look, I’m more than grateful for what you did for me tonight, and I know I’ll never be able to repay you, but...”
“I don’t want you to repay me, Jules.” Jay softened his voice. “I just want to know why that guy was sent to kill you.”
Her gaze rose to his. “Who says he