Ten Thousand Lies (39 page)

“Understand what exactly?”

He closed his eyes. “What it is you like. Lenny was telling me about how he caught the only woman he ever loved in bed with his best friend, and he killed the both of them for it. And I started thinking about, if that happened to us, how I’d react.”

“Ricki…”

He plowed on. “If it did, I think I’d question what I didn’t do to keep you happy. But I felt that I would be capable of murdering any man who laid his hands on you. And, when I was leaving, Lenny said the girl was willing. She
liked
being used like that. I wondered…I wondered if it was something you enjoyed, too. And it fucking broke me heart.”

“I don’t, Ricki,” I whispered. “I’ve never had any desire to do that shit. And I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

He exhaled loudly and opened his eyes. “I told you I wanted to give you everything you’d ever dreamed of, but I’ve realized there are some things I’m not able to give.”

“Yeah, well, rest assured,” I said dryly, “a threesome with you and Ronen is not on my list of things I want.”

His gaze turned shy. “So…you’ve taken it up the arse then?”

My shoulders slumped in defeat. “Yeah.”

“Did you like it?”

My cheeks turned scorching. “Maybe.”

“Is it something you’d want to do with me?”

I couldn’t help the lopsided grin. “Is it something
you
want to do, Ricki?”

His face went three shades of nuclear. “I’d give it a go, if it was what you wanted.”

Not long after we opened the tattoo shop the next day, Ellen came in with another woman. I stood up straight behind the counter, feeling a nervous flutter dance through me. In the back, I heard Ricki whistling a little ditty of a tune.

We’d ended up having anal last night, and Ricki was over the moon for having another sexual experience under his belt.

“Wow, sweetheart!” Ellen piped, looking around the shop. “You’ve done wonders in here. This place looks fantastic!”

“Thanks,” I replied, eyeing the other woman.

She looked to be in her mid-forties. Her dark brown hair was cut shoulder-length and liberally streaked with gray. Smart-looking glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose, and I could see she wore no makeup.

Ricki had stopped whistling, and his footsteps were coming toward us. A few seconds later, he emerged from the corridor to the front of the house.

All three of us turned to see him, standing silent, looking expectantly.

Ellen huffed. “It’s all right, Ricki. We’re here for Jaime.”

His eyebrows rose. “For what?” He slipped easily into the Russian accent.

“Can we take this in your office?” asked the woman. Her accent was Dutch.

He shot me a glance but nodded. “Come on.”

The three of us trailed behind him down the hall, stopping when he paused to poke his head into Ronen’s station.

“Need you to man the front,” he said.

“On it,” came Ronen’s voice with the scraping of a stool against the floor.

We continued to follow Ricki, who opened his office and held the door for us. As I was the last in line, he grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers, before we entered together.

Ellen made herself comfortable on the couch, the other woman sitting on the opposite end. Ricki and I took the love seat across from them.

“What’s going on?” he asked, dropping the accent.

My hand was swamping in his. He gently squeezed it, letting me know he’d stand with me whatever this situation entailed.

“Jaime?” said the woman.

“Yes?” I replied, my spine going even more rigid.

“My name is Ursula Heste. I’m one of the directors for the Holland branch of the Locals.”

I nodded that I understood because I was too afraid to speak at this point.

Ursula appraised me for a moment. “Are you all right?”

“Um, just nervous.”

“Whatever for?”

“I, uh…I don’t know.”

She smiled. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’ve been speaking with Ellen about your role with us. You’ve kept your silence for a long time, Jaime. You’re a trusted member of the organization. But you have much more to offer us than being a messenger between high-ranking members.”

“Okay.”

Ricki clasped my hand a little harder this time. He was now the nervous one. That didn’t sit well with me.

“It’s been brought to our attention that you wish to work more with the rescued unfortunates. You and Xanthe have been spending much of your time with Lilla and the unfortunates at the hostel. Your presence has had a good impact on them there. Marta praises the three of you most highly.”

“That’s…that’s nice to hear.”

“You’re a certified phlebotomist, yes? You’ve also been certified in anatomy and physiology.”

“Yes.”

“Ellen has told us of your idea of doing the blood work in a more relaxed setting for the unfortunates. That you’re willing to go to their placement homes to do this for them.”

“I am, yes.”

“As it is, especially with those who continue with prostitution, these people are regularly going into health clinics, which means they are in the legal system—for anyone with any interest to locate. This has always been a necessary risk the organization has taken to ensure that these people are healthy and remain so. However, we think you can help us reduce this risk.”

“I’d be happy to help in any way I can,” I replied, a strange tingle of anticipation zipping through me.

“We think it’d be wise to have them come here to you. There is less stigma attached to someone coming in for piercings and tattoos than going to a health clinic. We believe the unfortunates would feel more comfortable with seeing a friendly face rather than a technician in a clinical setting.”

Ricki relaxed next to me. “That sounds like a good idea. This way, you aren’t traipsing around, all over bloody Amsterdam.”

Ursula’s neutral gaze dropped to our clasped hands. “Indeed.”

“I guess you’ll be supplying me with everything I’ll need?” I asked.

“Yes. We’ll start with this endeavor at the end of next week. Considering the mission at hand, it would be best to wait before beginning with this. We need to keep our focus on the mission.”

A shiver danced down my spine.

Ursula stood. “Well, that’s all.”

Ricki let go of my hand and stood, too. “I’ll walk you out.”

Ellen and I remained seated and silent until the office door clicked shut.

Then, she pinned me with her shrewd eyes. “You’ve turned that boy into a man.”

“Sorry?”

“That Ricki—who was sitting next to you, holding your hand, ready to go to war for you against one of the directors of the Locals—is not the Ricki whom I’ve known and loved.
That
was a man.”

“He’s always been a man.”

“He was a boy—unsure of himself, insecure about everything in his life besides killing. You have given him something incredible, Jaime. That little shit just grew up before my damn eyes.”

“This is a good thing, right?”

“This is the best thing I could have hoped for him. I prayed he’d find something—
someone
—worth living for.”

I had no idea what to say. I was pleasantly embarrassed, if that was even possible.

Ricki came in then, and he looked into my eyes as he shut the door behind him.

As wonderful as it was to believe Ricki found me worth living for, I knew that I lived for him, too.

Ricki

It was Thursday. There’d been no word from Mikhail, and I hadn’t made any contact myself. I’d wait until I heard from him before agreeing to do his bidding. He’d told me I would have until the end of the week to say yes.

All day, Ronen had been twitchy, and that naturally set me on edge. When Ronen got a fucking vibe, it’d infect the rest of us.

“I just get the feeling that something is up,” he muttered for the third or fourth time already.

“You keep saying that,” I replied.

The both of us stood behind the shop counter. The afternoon wasn’t heavily booked for either of us. He was on the computer while I was doing a quick sketch for my next client, who’d be arriving in a half hour for a small peony flower on a hip bone.

“Yeah, because the feeling isn’t fucking going away, man!” he snapped. “It’s too fucking quiet. I don’t like it. They’re fucking up to something.”

The Russians were still watching us. Jones and Belfry had been tailing the fuckers round the clock. Several times a day, Mikhail’s thugs would be spotted not too far from the shop, just being skeevy. None had come inside though, so at least we knew we hadn’t been infiltrated.

Jaime came out from her piercing room, her bag slung across her chest. “I need some decent coffee. I’m lagging big time. You guys want?”

My woman fucking
glowed
.

Since Ursula had given her a greater purpose with the organization, Jaime had come alive in ways I hadn’t known were possible. It made me so fucking chuffed to see her like this.

“I could use some brew,” Ronen replied, digging in his pocket for cash.

“Babe?” Jaime asked, her China blues sparkling like jewels as she looked into my eyes.

I couldn’t help the dopey grin stretching my mouth.
I’m her babe.
“Sure. I’ll have whatever you’re getting.”

“All right,” she replied, waving at Ronen to put away his money. “I’ll be back in a few.”

I wanted her to come up and kiss me. She wouldn’t because we were at work, so I reached out and pulled her in, quickly kissing her on the lips before she could bitch.

“I’ll miss you,” I said.

“You’re a dork,” she retorted, blushing.

“I keep telling him that, but he won’t do anything about it,” snarked Ronen.

Jaime’s laughter trailed behind her as she headed out the door.

It all happened so fucking fast.

Two thugs came out of nowhere. One grabbed Jaime by her arms just as a large white van squealed to a stop at the storefront, and the other shoved a two-by-four under the door handle to the shop.

“No!”
I shouted, racing around the counter. My heart pumped dread through my veins, the likes of which were alien to me.

The thug who’d jammed the door drew back his arm and punched Jaime in her belly.

I
felt
it. This was fucking torture, watching my woman get hit.

Mikhail and Nikolai—
fuck no, don’t touch my woman!
—hopped out of the van. Mikhail marched up to the door just as I made it to watch Nikolai clock Jaime in the jaw. My Dollface crumpled into the thug’s arms, knocked out cold.

“NO! YOU BASTARD!” I screamed, pounding on the bulletproof glass of the shop door, my heart dying a panicked death in my chest. “LET HER GO!”

Nikolai fucking lifted and
threw
Jaime into the van.

“JAIME!” I roared.

Mikhail raised a finger to his lips, telling me to quiet down. Then, he held up a piece of paper to the glass for me to read.

DOCKS. WAREHOUSE 5A. SAY YES. DO YOUR JOB, AND SHE LIVES.

“I’ll do it! I’ll fucking do it! Let her go!”

I know
, his mouth formed the words. He winked. “See you at midnight.”

“
FUCK! Don’t let him fucking touch her!
” I screamed at him in Russian. “
Don’t you fucking let that sick fucker touch her!
”

Mikhail’s face smoothed out, showing me nothing. He knew I was talking about Nikolai, knew I was thinking about how he’d used Tonya. Mikhail’s black eyes glittered like onyx, hard and cold.

“Please!”
I sobbed, sinking to my knees, palms sliding down the glass.
“Please don’t let him hurt her!”

The Knight of Mercy stared down at me, knowing he had me, knowing, in this moment, I was
his
. For a few seconds, he merely stared. Then, he crouched down until we were eye level, and he gave me the slightest nod. Standing up, he turned on his heel and jumped in the van, sliding the door shut as it sped off down the street.

Ronen was pulling me back, attempting to haul me to my feet, and I went fucking
savage
.

“JAIME! FUCK!” I flailed against his grasp, fighting him and kicking against the floor.

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t
breathe
. I was choking on a terror I’d never experienced in my fucking life. Not even when we’d been tied up on the floor of my father’s office, our life swinging by thin threads, had I known such fucking fear.