Sophie Oak - One to Keep

“And then?”

Ivan shot him a look that made Alexei know his intelligence was in question. “And then we kill the innkeeper and kill the girl and get the painting.”

“And the American police will just let us stroll out?” Alexei tried to reason with him. Ivan was a barbarian. He was pure muscle with not a thought beyond killing and taking whatever prize he was supposed to get. “This is not Russia. You can’t go around killing people and expect the cops to look the other way.” Ivan followed him when he started walking toward the room. “I don’t see why not. Do police in America not appreciate money? We pay them and they look the other way.”

Alexei found the room and shoved the key in. “I don’t think it will work here. The media is different. No one will care if we kill Renard.

He was a pathetic drug addict. If we kill this Gene, someone will care.

If we kill the girl, someone will care. These Americans are addicted to justice. Have you not watched their television?” Ivan sniffed. “No. I am not as interested in what goes on at the Jersey Shore as you are. I say no one will care if I kill all of those people. I will probably get a medal for killing the short orange one.” Ivan dropped his bag beside the bed. He tossed his body down. “I will take this side. Wake me when it is time to kill someone.” He was asleep, snoring like a bear, almost instantly. It was a skill of his. He could sleep anywhere.

Alexei, on the other hand, barely slept at all. The minute he dropped off he saw his brother’s bloody face. He saw how still his brother’s body was. It was hard now to remember that his brother had always laughed and smiled. His brother had been the one to tell him stories about what their lives would be like when they finally got to America. They would find good jobs and good women. Alexei had been nine and wasn’t terribly interested in the women, but he wanted to play for an American hockey team. That had been his dream.

It had shattered in an instant when one of Pushkin’s thugs decided to make an example of his beloved older brother. He’d found a new dream that day. He would grow strong and kill the man responsible for his brother’s death. He’d managed to quietly kill the thug who had pulled the trigger, but Pushkin was the one he wanted.

And he would have him.

Alexei walked back outside. He dragged cold air into his lungs.

Damn, but his brother would have been fascinated by this place. He would have talked all afternoon with the Gene person, asking him questions about the town and the people Gene had met. Mikhail had never met a stranger.

Alexei found his feet moving toward the front office. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the man. He could find out more about the town. He was supposed to be a tourist. He would be a friendly tourist. Friendly tourists talked to people. His stomach growled. Maybe he would go to the diner after he talked to Gene.

Yes, he decided, it couldn’t hurt. Getting to know these people wouldn’t change anything.

Jen pushed through the glass door of Stella’s diner and was welcomed by a nice blast of heat. She shook off the cold, dragging the parka over her shoulders and hanging it up on one of the hooks on the wall. A sense of nostalgia nearly overwhelmed her. She’d worked in this little diner for a year and a half. Though she’d had a ton of jobs before she’d waitressed at Stella’s, this was where she had been the happiest. Jen was shocked at the way tears filled her eyes.

Why the hell had she left?

Two arms wrapped around her, enfolding her in a sympathetic embrace. Callie was always quick with a hug, always seemed to know when she needed one and never held back. “Oh, sweetie, it’s all right.”

“I left her.” Jen’s heart clenched. She bit back a sob. She was in the middle of the diner. It was after the lunch rush, but the place was still packed. And she didn’t care. “She gave me a job and took care of me, and I didn’t even say good-bye.”

A throaty voice broke through Jen’s misery. “Well, I figured Stef did something to make you run, baby girl. I just wish you would have written to let me know you were okay.” Jen turned to see Stella Benoit standing at the counter. She was a forty-something bottle blonde who wore far too much makeup. She was entirely beautiful to Jen’s mind. Stella had given her so much more than a job. She’d given her a home and a place where she could be who she wanted to be.

“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing Jen could think to say.

Stella’s eternal helmet of blonde hair nodded. “All right then, sweetie. You come and sit down. I’ll get you a nice cup of coffee.

You want some food?”

“I would love a burger. I haven’t had a decent burger since I left,” Jen said, a huge weight off her shoulders. Stella wasn’t tossing her out. She had Callie at her side. She might be able to come home after all.

Suddenly Dallas seemed so far away, and the fight she’d had with Stef seemed a silly reason to have left her home. She’d done what she’d been taught to do. She left when the going got a little rough. It was what her mother had done. Every time her artist mother had broken up with a boyfriend or gotten into financial trouble, she would move on to the next city. It would be better in Denver or Cleveland or Miami, she would say.

Life would never be better than she’d had it in Bliss, Jen knew.

She could run as far as she liked, but this was her home.

“You have to stop, or you’re going to make me cry,” Callie said, her hands brushing along Jen’s cheeks as she slid into the booth across from her.

“I’m just happy to be back.” A great sense of calm came over her.

She took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar smells of frying burgers, the piney scent of the cleaner Stella used on the floor, and slightly mangy dog. Jen felt a smile cross her face as she looked down at an old friend. “Hey, Quigley.”

The enormous dog shoved his head under her hand, his not-so-subtle request for attention. Jen obliged and looked around for his owner.

Rachel Harper stood by the dog she’d taken on when she’d married the Harper twins. Rachel was a lovely woman in her early thirties with strawberry blonde hair, pretty green eyes, and a wry smile that let the world know she didn’t take it too seriously. Jen’s eyes caught on the biggest change since the last time she’d seen Rachel. She appeared to have swallowed a beach ball.

“Don’t even say it,” Rachel said with a shake of her head. “Damn, you’re just what I need, another skinny thing in town. Scoot, Callie.” Callie snorted sweetly as she made room for Rachel and her soon-to-be-born kiddo. “Yeah, ’cause you’re not glowing and gorgeous.”

“It’s hard to feel that way when I waddle like a penguin,” Rachel said. She snapped her fingers gently at the dog. “Q, take a load off.” The big mutt lay down on the floor by her feet, his head settling onto his enormous paws, and an audible sigh came from his chest.

“Is there a reason Q is following you around?” Callie asked.

Rachel’s head shook. “Max. He’s making me and Rye crazy, Callie. He’s got Dr. Burke on speed dial, and he watches me like a hawk. You would think I was the first woman to ever give birth.”

“He loves you,” Jen said with a little sigh of her own. Max had been the baddest man around until the day he’d met Rachel.

“Rye loves me, too, but he doesn’t feel the need to know where I am and what my blood pressure is twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I swear Max wouldn’t let me drive until Rye had it out with him.”

Callie had gone a little white in the face, and suddenly she was staring out at the street.

“Rye is the reasonable one. If I didn’t have him, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Jen shook her head and pointed to Callie. “I don’t think so. She knows something.”

Now Callie’s face flushed, and Jen had to stifle a laugh because her glasses went just the slightest bit foggy. Rachel swung her head around like a predator sensing an easy kill.

“What do you know, Callie Hollister-Wright? You tell me right now.”

Callie’s fingers drummed nervously, and she shot Jen a stare.

“Thanks a lot. Now I’m going to get in trouble. Fine. Rye’s not as reasonable as you think, but he is way sneakier than Max. The reason he’s okay with you driving is that he had a GPS installed on your vehicle. It tracks you, and Nate and Rye both have the codes so they know where you are all the time. That’s why Max backed off.”

“That son of a bitch. I swear if I could get my foot more than three inches off the ground I would shove it up his ass. Reasonable?

He’s…” Rachel’s eyes got watery. “He’s so sweet.” Tears began to fall. “And Max. I love them so much.” Rachel buried her head in Callie’s shoulder and started to cry.

Quigley got off the ground, and suddenly his head was in Rachel’s lap. He whined a little as though he couldn’t stand his mistress’s tears.

“Hormones,” Callie mouthed as she patted Rachel’s hair. “She’ll be fine.”

“Max says I can’t go anywhere without Q. He’s trained the dog to come find him if my water breaks. I spilled a glass of water on the floor the other day, and ten minutes later Max was trying to take me to the hospital. Do you know how crazy you have to be to train your dog like that?”

“Crazy in love,” Callie said soothingly.

Max was crazy in love with his wife. There was no question about that. For Max and Rye, Rachel was the sun in the sky. It didn’t come as a surprise that they felt the need to watch over her every minute of the day. They wanted to know what happened to her. They wanted to be there if she came to harm, to love and protect her. If Rachel had been arrested like Jen had been, they would have been right on the case. Like Stef.