Finding Gary (The Romanovsky Brothers Book 4) (9 page)

The man waiting outside the car had his bulky arms crossed, squinting into the Cadillac’s tinted windows when it came to a stop.  The next second, the man pulled the back door open, climbed in, and took the seat directly across from Victor.  He slammed the door closed after him.

Unlike most of the imbeciles who worked for him, this one didn’t sweat bullets at the sight of Victor.  He didn’t seem shifty or fidgety.  He didn’t seem afraid in the least.

He wasn’t acting, either.  No; this one was brave—a touch too brave for Victor’s taste.  He would use him for this, Victor decided, and then toss him; making sure to send him little reminders every now and again on why keeping his mouth shut about their relationship would always be in his best interest.

Few people in the world gave Victor a run for his money in the size and strength department, but this man was one of the few.  His chest, just as immense and hard as Victor’s, heaved with strength.  His sizable biceps fought for release, even under the give of an extra large black t-shirt. The lines of his abs were prominent against the loose, thin fabric, tightening with each deep breath he took.  Muscular thighs lived under his denim jeans like a brick, leading the way down a pair of legs just a hair longer than Victor’s. 

Victor shifted, shooting his dark brown eyes across the car, catching a baby blue gaze challenging him right back.

“I assume you’ve done as I asked,” Victor said.

“I did.” Perfect teeth jetted out of the man’s plush pink lips, just enough to give a hint of their pearly white color.  He reached up and ran the beds of his fingers along his shadowed jaw, licking those teeth.  “I’m set to meet them at the hospital in an hour.  Zoey’s being released to her old apartment in Brooklyn.  She’ll have me with her, and a squad car on the street.  Same as the rest of the Romanovskys.  FBI has eyes on all of them.  Now that Gary’s pleaded not guilty, the final push for an indictment against you is underway.”

Victor bit back a scream, taking a moment to let that information sear his heart like it had been set on fire.  “You’ve given my people all the information?”

The man nodded, lips pulling.  He ran a hand over the tight ponytail he’d pulled his jet-black hair into, low on his neck, slick as an actress on the red carpet.  “Yep.  Sent it all.  Just this morning.”

“Good.”  Victor nodded.  “Do everything you can to remain close to Zoey until this ugliness passes.  Since that simp pleaded not guilty, Jessica is going to fall all over herself to make him her primary asset.  If he agrees to work with the FBI, it could be detrimental to my campaign.  Do not let them pull you from Zoey, or assign her another agent.  It has to be you.”

“Jessica has already run my file against every eligible agent.  Twice.  She won’t transfer me.”

“Good.”  Victor shifted, annoyed that his company still wasn’t displaying the kind of submissive, fearful body language he preferred.  He felt his blood running hot.  “I don’t suppose I need to remind you what’s at stake if this doesn’t go my way?”

Hooded blue eyes blinked slowly, but that was all.  No clenching of the fists, no shuffle on the feet, not even a tightening of his lips. 

Victor was forced to go without, and his hot blood went into a boil, nearly melting his skin.

“No,” the man said.  “You don’t need to remind me.”

“Thank you, Taj.”  They held each other’s eyes across the car for several minutes, and then, Victor smiled.  “I appreciate you.”

Taj had no such sentiment to give in return.  Sensing his unspoken cue, he leaned across the car and opened the door.

Victor watched Taj step out, slamming the door shut behind him.

***

“I can’t believe I get to take you home today,” Zoey whispered down to Marcus.  He’d been freed from his swaddle and was in the process of curling his body like a contortionist, determined to get his toes into his wide-open mouth.  His golden eyes were riveted to Zoey’s smiling face when he succeeded, gnawing on his toes before returning her smile, drool dribbling down his leg as a soft giggle released.  Zoey laughed with him, unable to help herself, and leaned down, wiggling her nose against his, promoting more giggles. “I can’t wait to get you home and figure out a million and one different ways to keep that beautiful sound coming out of your mouth.”

She brushed the fine black hairs on his head.  The nurses had been amazed that, even three months premature, Marcus had been blessed with more hair on his head than most babies that had been carried to full term.  And she couldn’t keep her hands out of it for a single second.

Across the bed from her, Jessica packed away all the baby items Zoey had collected during her time in the hospital in a hot pink duffle bag at the head of the bed.  She frowned as Marcus giggled. 

“God that kid is cute,” Jessica grumbled.  “I need you to get him away from me before I start wanting one of my own.  I’ve never experienced this before.”

“He’s such perfection, right?” Zoey asked, looking up at Jessica from where she was now leaning on either side of Marcus, blowing raspberries into his protruding belly.  “I’m not just one of those delusional mothers.  He’s actually perfect, isn’t he?”

“He’s a gem.”  Jessica pushed her hair behind her ear, grinning down at them.

“Yeah…”  Zoey said, absently, her eyes shining as they searched his face.

“Looks like this is everything,” Jessica said, checking her watch.  “But I don’t want to finalize your release until you’ve met Taj.”

“That’s his name?” Zoey asked.  “Taj?”

Jessica nodded.  “We searched high and low.  He’s perfect for you and Marcus.  Before he joined the bureau, he worked security for Taylor Swift.  A perfunctory YouTube browse gave me a pretty good idea of his temperament.”

“And what’s his temperament?”

“When it comes to the people he’s protecting?  No mercy.”

Zoey chortled.

“In one video.  He literally took a paparazzi by the ponytail and used it to swing him through the air.  Then he slammed him down onto the hood of a car.  All because he’d touched Taylor’s arm.”

“Wow.”

“We’ve given him orders to remain with you and Marcus until this case is closed.  Of course, if you’re uncomfortable for any reason, we can assign a different agent, but Taj has my seal of approval.”

“I trust you,” Zoey whispered, eyes falling back to Marcus.  He got bored of his toes and claimed her pointer finger under a deceptively strong hold, opening his mouth wide to taste it.

Their eyes flew to the door when a knock rang through. 

Jessica leaped from the bed and crossed the room.

“Good, you’re here,” she said, reaching out a hand to the man in the doorway, craning her neck to look up at him.  His jet-black hair, as per usual, had been pulled back low on his neck in a sleek ponytail.  His clothes, as per usual, seemed just a tad too small, making his muscles appear to be on a constant quest to rip them seam to seam.  His presence, as per usual, was breathtaking, especially his soft blue eyes, which at the moment were riveted on Zoey.

Jessica took his bicep in her hand, taking a secret moment to appreciate the rock hard sensation, before turning to Zoey.  She wasn’t surprised to find that Zoey’s brown gaze was riveted to him too, as she lifted Marcus from the bed and cradled him to her bosom.

“Hey.” Zoey’s eyes zoomed to the floor.

“Hey.”  The corner of Taj’s mouth lifted, and if it was possible, his eyes shone even more.

“Taj, this is Zoey and Marcus.  Zoey, this is Taj; the agent I’ve been telling you about.”  Jessica didn’t even know why she was bothering to speak because it was clear she’d ceased to exist to the two people in the room.

Taj was already on his way across the room before Jessica had even finished talking, holding out his hand. 

Balancing Marcus on one arm, Zoey met him halfway.

“God, you’re really huge,” Zoey said, shaking his hand.  “Like, every part of you is huge.  Well, not every part.  I mean, I’m sure every part, but… I’m not, like insinuating every part.  How would I know if every part of you was huge or not huge?  Though I’m sure they are.  Or aren’t.  Or whatever offends you the least.  Okay, shutting up now.”

Jessica shook her head when Zoey shot her an embarrassed look.

Taj filled the awkward silence with a buttery laugh, keeping her hand in his for just a touch longer than necessary.

Zoey began bouncing Marcus the moment she reclaimed her hand.  “I promise you we’re not always this unbearably awkward.”

“I like awkward.”  Taj shrugged, his voice just as deep and smooth as his laugh.  “It’s real.”

Zoey pressed her nose into Marcus’ head.  “Well, I’m sorry that you’re stuck with us for however long.  I tried to tell Jessica this is way over the top.  I’m sure you’d rather be out there shooting at someone.  Not that all feds are only out to shoot people.” Zoey shot Jessica another sheepish look.  “I am not coming off well…”

“I think you’re coming of… beautifully,” Taj whispered.

Jessica could hardly resist rolling her eyes.

“And where I want to be is right here, protecting you, and your son,” he contented, letting a slow smile spread on his face.  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Zoey.  Or…”

Zoey lifted the bundle in her arms when he motioned.  “Marcus,” she said, letting her own smile bloom.

“Marcus.” Taj ran his knuckle along Marcus’ nose.  “Consider me in your and Marcus’ debt.  You’ll be safe with me.”

Zoey and Jessica both released a relieved sigh, smiling at each other across the room.

But Taj never moved his eyes from Zoey. 

Not for one moment.

8

Spring moved closer to summer, and with his trial looming nearer every day, Gary slid open the door of his apartment prepared to see Jessica on the other side.  After pleading not guilty at his arraignment, she hadn’t let a single day go by without paying Gary a visit. 

He laughed at the person who greeted him instead.  The only person in the world he wanted to see less than Jessica Borgia.

“Really?” Gary leaned on the door.  “You never could take a hint, but Lord Jesus, this is on a whole other level.”

Reggie, ebony skin striking in a bright red button-down and dark jeans, held out his hands, one of which cradled a small box encased with gleaming silver wrapping paper.  A black hat covered his head, and sunglasses shaded his eyes. “What can I say?  I had to acknowledge what day it was today.”

“And it only took ten years.” Gary raised his eyebrows.  “I’d like you to get the fuck off my property, please and thanks.”

“Or…” Reggie lifted his own eyebrows.  “You could surrender to the spirit of this wonderful day and invite me in like a civilized human being.  I know your family certainly hasn’t come knocking.”

“No, they haven’t.  Thanks to you.”

“There’s no reason for you to spend this day alone.”

“I would rather spend this day getting every last one of my teeth pulled, without a drop of Novocain, than spend a single second of it with you.”

“Seriously, can you let me in?  I’m not supposed to be anywhere near you, and I’d like to get out of this hallway before anyone sees me…” Reggie trailed off. 

With a scoff, Gary stepped away from the door, but not before he went to push it shut.

The push was halfhearted, however, giving Reggie time to stop it before it closed. Reggie stepped in and closed the door behind him. He watched Gary move into the kitchen, his bare back flexing. Reggie followed him, removing his hat and sunglasses, eyeing the apartment as he went.  His eyes fell to Gary’s feet, zeroing in on the house arrest bracelet locked around his ankle, just before Gary circled the kitchen island.

“Look, Gary… I know I’m the last person on Earth you want to see—”

“Where do you find the balls?” Gary whispered, leaning on the island and glaring across the way at Reggie.  “Where do you find the balls to knock on my door?  To approach me in Central Park?”

Reggie looked down at the gift in his hands.  “I just wanted to say Happy Birthday, man.”

“Since when?”

“Since I know your family is too angry to do it themselves,” Reggie beamed, shooting his wide brown eyes Gary’s way.  “And because that’s partly my fault.”

“Partly,” Gary seethed, his own eyes going wide.

“Okay, completely.  It’s completely my fault.  I shouldn’t have threatened Val that night, but…”  Reggie’s eyes fell again, and he licked his lips. “I just didn’t want you to be alone.  I thought about you in this apartment all by yourself on your birthday and… shit, I don’t know…”

Gary gave the silence a moment to fall in.  “It’s my birthday, and the only member of my family who can stand to look at me is Leo.  And that’s only because his heart is too pure to do anything otherwise.  My father is too busy kneeling on the porch of the house he used to live in, groveling at my mother’s feet, to even realize what day it is.”

Reggie cringed.  “Bette kicked him out?”

“Lapping up every tear he sheds with glee.”

“Bette? She’s never struck me as a vindictive woman.”

“She isn’t.  Not until you cross her.  Then she drinks your tears like water.  And she’s not picky, either.  She’ll enjoy those tears in every assorted flavor.  Of course you’ve never seen that side of her because, before you went on a mission to tear our family apart, she never hesitated to lick the wounds your father loved to leave behind.  Wounds that still infect your face, to this very day.”  Gary nodded at him.  “How’s that eye?”

Reggie touched the tips of his fingers to his eyebrow, where the gash wasn’t as deep as it had been but was still ugly.  “Getting there…”

Gary glowered across the island, waiting for Reggie to fill the thick silence.  “If I were in your shoes, I would never have the stones to face me, again.  Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Just a man… asking for forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness.”  Gary smiled.  “My family’s never entertained that concept.  No reason I should have it in my blood either, right?”

Reggie set the gift in his hand in the middle of the island, pointing to it.  “You want to open it?”

“Are you really going to stand there and offer me a fucking birthday gift?  Like this is just another fucking Tuesday night?”

They held each other’s eyes across the island, each clawing their nails into the granite, too proud to be the first to break his gaze away. 

When the gift on the counter went ignored, Reggie was the first to break.  “I spoke to Jessica the other day…  She says you’re refusing to work with the FBI.”

“Is that the real reason you’re here?  To gather more information to take back to your father?  About whether or not I’m going to testify against him?”

“I haven’t spoken to my father in weeks.  Not since the day he looked me in the eye and told me it should’ve been me who died the day I was born, not my mother.  The day he called me worthless.”  When Reggie went to circle the island, Gary did, too.  “Come on, Gary.  There’s been an island between us for ten years, hasn’t there?”

“Maybe it was there for a reason,” Gary said, still moving with Reggie, so the island remained between them.  “Maybe we were right to put it there.”

“In my experience, what’s right is rarely what’s real.”

Those words made Gary stop in his tracks, even as Reggie kept circling the island.

“You’re really going to talk to me about what’s real?”  Gary cringed.  “The fakest son of a bitch I know, preaching about what’s real?  You know what, get the fuck out of my apartment.”  He nodded towards the door, and when Reggie made it to his side of the island, slowing his pace, Gary felt his heartbeat pick up.  “You didn’t give a fuck about what was real ten years ago, or a single second since…”

“Of course I did.” Reggie stopped just a foot in front of Gary.  He let their gazes battle as he stabbed his fingers into his chest.  “You think a single day, a single minute, a single second has ever gone by, where I haven’t thought about that night?  I think about it every second, Gary.”

“And you still chose to stand with King.”

“He’s my father.”

Gary scoffed.

“My blood.  That used to mean something to me.  Blood.   I was willing to fight for it, to turn a blind eye for it, even when I knew what was real.  The thing that kept me in chains for years is the same thing that’s keeping you from telling the whole truth today.” Reggie jabbed his fingers into Gary’s chest, breathing in through his nostrils when Gary swatted his arm away. He didn’t relent, pointing at Gary’s heart with arrow sharp fingers.  “It’s the reason you’d rather be put in prison than talk about it. Face it.  So that’s why I’m here tonight.  Not because it’s your birthday.  Not because of the guilt.  Not because I have ulterior motives.  I’m here, right now, telling you that I’m willing to face what’s real as long as you are.  I won’t refute it, and I won’t fight you on it.  If you’ll stand with Jessica, with the FBI, then I’ll stand with you.”

Gary’s eyes narrowed.

“Gary, I’m sorry,” Reggie whispered, stepping closer.  “And I know that doesn’t mean shit when it’s up against the years I let slip by.  The choices I made.  The choice to stand with him and not with you.  It was the wrong choice.  It was a mistake.  But it’s a mistake I’ll never make again.  And I’m sorry.”

Gary took a deep breath, searching his eyes.  “I lost everything because of you.”

“You can get it all back.  Just tell the truth.”

“Why don’t you tell me what the truth is?” Gary lifted his chin softly.  “What’s the truth, Reggie?”

Reggie faltered, searching Gary’s eyes.  He sucked in a breath and stepped forward, seizing Gary at the small of his back before yanking him in.

Their lips met with a deep gasp, sealing, until their lungs squeezed so tight they had no choice but to pull back, simultaneously sucking in a breath.  Fingers flush on his back, Reggie kept Gary close, tight, their eyes fluttered closed. They breathed in as one, and the sensitive skin of their lips brushed as their foreheads pressed together. 

“I never stopped,” Reggie whispered.  “That is my truth, Gary.”

Gary took the back of Reggie’s neck and devoured his bottom lip, a deep groan escaping. Reggie gave his top lip the same treatment, and when they pulled back, he parted his mouth wide.  Breath picking up, Gary dipped his tongue out and swept it inside.  Reggie offered his own.  They tasted each other.  The corner of Gary’s soul that had been stiff with terror until that second, snapped.  Obliterated.  And he was on Reggie like a rocket, forcing him back against the counter in the corner of the kitchen, deepening the kiss.

They battled intently until nothing but the sound of their tongues, lips, and gasps filled the kitchen.  Hands clawed up and down each other’s bodies, never staying put for too long, digging handfuls of clothing as they traveled.

Gary tilted his head, cupping Reggie’s jaw to hold his head still as he enjoyed the taste of him—the feeling of his unguarded response.  When Gary pressed the zipper of his jeans forward and felt Reggie’s erection pressing right back, he cried out into his mouth, tugging his head away and backing off.

Still against the counter, Reggie watched, stunned, as Gary hurtled backward, his back hitting the kitchen island. 

Green eyes large as saucers, Gary covered his lips with the back of his hand.

Reggie tried to speak, faltered, and then tried again.  “It won’t be like it was,” he croaked.

Hand still over his mouth; Gary squeezed his eyes shut.

Reggie approached on a gentle foot, waiting until he was sure Gary could feel the heat of his body before he took his waist in a firm hand.  He squeezed, his chest heaving with Gary’s.

Fingers still tremoring from the emotional remnants of their kiss, Reggie brushed his hand from Gary’s side up to his bicep.  It flexed under his hold.  His fingers trailed down Gary’s arm to his wrist.  He cupped it under a tender hand.

“It’ll never be like before, Gary.”  He waited for Gary’s eyes to meet his, and when they did, a darker green than he’d ever seen them, Reggie guided Gary’s hand into the waistband of his jeans, his jaw dropping the moment he felt Gary’s fingers brush his hardness.  Unable to control himself, he zeroed in, stealing another frantic kiss before tucking his hand under Gary’s shirt.  He let the beds of his fingers trickle along the dusting of hair above the waistband of Gary’s jeans before pushing his own hand inside, taking his hardness under the warm vise of his fingers.  “Never,” Reggie whispered, tasting Gary’s strangled gasp as he drew a firm tug.  “I promise.”

“Shit,” Gary wheezed, accepting another fervent kiss from Reggie with a tilt of his head, curling his fingers around Reggie’s hardness, as well, beginning a stroke that came fast and hard in time with his.  “Yes, yes…” Gary moaned when his orgasm grew nearer, his lower abs tightening, swirling his hips against the tight sleeve Reggie’s hand made, licking his bottom lip and yanking it between his, desperate to feel the warm slip of his tongue as he came.  And he came in seconds, clawing the back of Reggie’s neck until he was sure he would draw blood, nearly coming onto the counter as his orgasm lifted him to his toes, rocking him from head to toe.

Reggie caught every rock until Gary had none left to give, breaking their fervent kiss with a grin.  He brought his hand from Gary’s pants.  It glistened with the evidence of his peak.  Holding those green eyes, Reggie groaned as he licked it away.

Gary watched Reggie lap up his cum, dark eyes hooded, and didn’t even realize his shaking fingers had undone Reggie’s jeans until he was pulling them down his hips and thighs, gasping the entire time. 

Gary dropped to his knees and took the throbbing head of Reggie’s heat into his mouth, bringing the tip greedily to the back of his throat. 

Reggie’s scream entered Gary’s psyche, warmed his heart, and healed him.

***

Angie Colt opened the door of her apartment, and Zoey jammed her eyes closed, sighing in relief and launching her body into the door, as she wrapped her free arm around Angie’s waist.  A few feet behind her, Taj lingered in the hallway.

Angie returned Zoey’s embrace with a moan, careful not to squeeze Marcus, who was cuddled on Zoey’s arm.

“God, it’s so good to see your face,” Zoey mumbled into Angie’s neck.  “I’ve been worried sick about you, Angie.”

They pulled back, each swiping the tears out of each other’s eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Zoey asked, keeping a hand cupped to Angie’s cheek.

Angie sighed, shooting curious looks to Taj every now and again.  “The nausea comes and goes, I have to take about ten naps a day, or I feel like hell rising, and it’s still a struggle to hold down any food, but… I’m alive.”

Zoey nodded as she spoke, her eyes full of worry.  Then, she jumped, snapping her finger and turning towards Taj.  “God, I’m so rude.  Angie, this is Taj—Taj, Angie.”