9
The truth shall set you free. Or get you killed.
“So, these guys after you, who are we up against?” Dex shoved another mouthful of pancake into his mouth, waiting for a reply as they sat at the small dining room table off the living room.
Nick glanced up from his plate, washing down his last bite with his coffee. He couldn’t believe how quickly he had eased into comfort around these two men. “We aren’t up against anyone.”
Dex chuckled. “Killian is supposed to be the dense one in our trio.”
Nick hid a smile as he sipped his coffee, enjoying the scowl on Ian’s face.
“There is no…trio,” Ian said.
Dex rolled his eyes. It seemed the man could be rather dramatic if he had an audience. “If you’re jumping into some fight with big scary demons nipping at ninja junior’s heels over here,” he said, jutting his chin toward Nick. “You bet your ass you’re not doing it alone. So we’re a trio. Deal with it.”
Ian’s features softened. “You’re not doing anything. I’m not putting you at risk.”
Dex bumped his shoulder against Ian. “We’re a team. The good doctor here can stitch me up if the shit hits the fan.” He shifted his focus to Nick, the playfulness evaporating almost instantly. “Seriously, who are these people?”
“It’s…complicated.” Nick ran a hand through his hair, quickly assessing the risk involved. There was no way these two guys were letting up without more information.
“We all live complicated lives,” Dex said, the seriousness and formality in his tone almost foreign, an obvious tell his verbal jabs and crass behavior served to spur his friend. “Trust me. We know enough secrets to shock the hell out of most people. I doubt anything you say can surprise us. Give us a name.”
Nick sighed. As much as he wanted to keep them away from the danger chasing him, he couldn’t do this alone. Maybe, between the three of them, they could come up with a plan that might work. He had tried on his own and had obviously failed.
“Aleksei Petrov.”
“I don’t know the name.” Dex frowned and glanced over to Ian. “Do you?”
Ian nodded once and stood from his seat at the small dining room table. He remained quiet as he walked over to the kitchen and rinsed his plate and mug in the sink. Judging by his stiff shoulders, Nick was certain Ian knew exactly who he was up against.
“Killian…care to fill me in?” Dex prompted.
Ian turned with a sigh. He glanced at Nick for a moment, his focus strong, confident, and unflinching before turning toward his friend. “Petrov heads up one of the largest crime families in Chicago.”
“Then why haven’t I heard of him?”
“Because he doesn’t have a branch here in Miami. Chicago is his home and focus.”
“How bad is he?” Dex asked, still in business mode.
“He’s linked to some really sketchy stuff in Chicago but it’s all on the down-low. His men do the dirty work.” Ian stood silent for a moment, before resuming. “He’s all about the power and control, but doesn’t care for the attention.”
“Sounds like you.”
Ian visibly cringed.
A spike of anger rose in Nick. “They are nothing alike,” he said fiercely, punctuating his words and tone with a firm glare.
Dex’s face paled as he glanced between Nick and his friend. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant—”
“I know how you meant it. Don’t worry about it.” Ian patted his friend’s shoulder as he retook his seat, but it was obvious the sting lingered. He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward, focusing his attention on Nick. “How is Petrov linked to this?”
“He was the man I patched up at the restaurant.”
Ian looked away and exhaled heavily.
A knot formed in Nick’s throat as the tiny hope that had managed to survive these last two years slowly faded. “Now you know why I’m a man with no future.”
Ian’s gaze immediately snapped back to him, his pale blue eyes raging with anger. “We’ll find a way. It’ll just take some planning.”
“I don’t get it,” Dex said, frowning. “Why does he want to kill you now but he let you go after he got shot? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Nick set his fork aside. “After he was shot, he released me as a show of gratitude. It’s hard to explain.”
“It’s a matter of trust and respect,” Ian clarified. “Petrov’s business is multigenerational. He’s old school, where basic principles are the core of what keeps the business running. Trust, loyalty, respect.” Ian ticked each item off with a finger as he spoke. He looked at Nick and nodded. “Saving his life that night…yeah, letting you go was a show of gratitude.” He turned toward Dex. Although tense, Ian softened his tone as a teacher would when explaining a new subject to a student. “Petrov’s business is his life. It’s all he’s ever known. No one objects when asked to join his circle, even if by force. Because invitations are rare. And his trust is even rarer. Every time they picked Nick up and he patched up another one of Petrov’s men…that earned him respect and built trust and loyalty between them. But when Nick walked away—”
“It was a show of disrespect,” Nick added, finishing Ian’s sentence. His voice breathless and his tone more defeated than he wanted to admit. Shit. How had he not seen that at the time? He took a slow, deep breath and exhaled, hoping to ease the unsettling knot forming in the pit of his stomach.
Ian nodded. “And a clear sign you were no longer loyal to him. So it puts your trust in question.”
“Um, okay. How about you call him and just clear things up?” They both looked at Dex as if he had spontaneously sprouted a tail. “What?” Dex asked, flicking his eyes from one man to the other.
“It doesn’t work that way,” Ian said. “Disrespect must be dealt with to avoid others from finding it acceptable behavior.” His words were carefully chosen. Almost as if he were reciting something he had memorized from a passage.
“Well, that’s bullshit. It’s not like Nick betrayed him or snitched him out.”
Ian sighed. “In Petrov’s world, without trust and respect, betrayal is inevitable.”
“But people make mistakes,” Dex muttered.
“Betrayal is paid for in blood.” Nick said the words without realizing they had escaped his lips. He had seen it plenty of times firsthand, especially in Petrov’s games where those words were the theme. His sport, as Petrov called it. He’d gather those who had betrayed him and make them players in his twisted form of entertainment. The winner coveted the prize of a quick death, while the others experienced extended torture for their sin of betrayal.
Nick had foolishly believed not going to authorities would have been enough. He raked his fingers through his hair, remembering the words of his surrogate mother—the woman who had raised him.
You must think like them if you plan to beat them at their own game.
He had failed at the biggest lesson she had taught him over the years.
Being a doctor had taught him that death was inevitable. For the last two years, running had extended his timeframe. He had suspected Petrov would send men looking for him. But somewhere, in the farthest reaches of his mind, he believed the man’s quest might diminish if enough time passed without any legal repercussions to his family business. It would take a while, but Nick was willing to run for years if it meant he could have a life afterwards.
Nick shook his head, a sardonic laugh rising in his throat. All this because he had saved a man’s life and several of his men’s, then walked away. As he did every time he had performed a surgical procedure.
But that was in his normal life in a normal world. His warped upbringing should have reminded him there was a completely different hemisphere he shouldn’t have ignored. And now, that would not only cost him his own life, but likely a few hours’ worth of torture, possibly a few days if Petrov chose to cash in on the interest of time.
“I’ve got an easy solution,” Dex said, breaking through Nick’s thoughts. “Killian, what about we take him—”
Ian slowly turned toward his friend, a telepathic message exchanging between them strong enough to silence Dex with that one glare.
“What am I missing?” Nick asked, curiosity getting the best of him.
Dex crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “We’ll figure something out.”
Both men remained silent, and neither budged or asked more questions. Nick pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes as he stared at one man then the other. But it was clear he wouldn’t be able to pull any more information from these two, even though the wheels were turning in both of their minds and running at full speed. There was a reason these two worked together and got along well in a business that didn’t lend itself to connections. And Nick wasn’t about to interfere with their methods if it ended with him alive and breathing.
He repeatedly turned the fork on his empty plate, trying to calm the building hope growing inside. He glanced up at Ian, wanting nothing more than to be free enough to take a chance without the fear hovering between them. “Be honest with me. Please.” He swallowed heavily, his body warring with hope and fear of his current situation, and the desire and want for the man intently staring at him with equal desire burning in his pale blue eyes. “Is there…really a chance?”
Ian nodded once. “Yes.”
The connection between them broke with Dex’s chuckle. “Do you really think this guy is going to let anyone hurt you?”
Nick suspected something had shifted between them the night he’d stepped into Ian’s car, turning casual conversation and playful banter into something far more personal and intense. There had always been a charge between them since that first day, a consistent hum, steady and strong during their interactions at the restaurant. But stepping into that car… No, it wasn’t that night. It had begun intensifying that night in the restroom when he had stitched up the gash on Ian’s hand. Since that night, things had shifted. The hum had become deafening and his skin had prickled in anticipation of Ian’s touch.
Ian and Dex chatted back and forth, formulating a plan of some sort, to gather information, mentioning names of possible business associates and locations where gossip in their business was easiest to overhear. But the consistent thrum in Nick’s ears muffled most of their words. He couldn’t remember half the names they exchanged, distracted with his own racing thoughts and concerns.
He looked away, struggling with a million different arguments as to why he should keep his distance and not bring these two men into his mess of a life. There wasn’t a question in his mind Ian would do everything in his power to find an answer. But Nick wasn’t the type of person to throw others into risky positions and climb on their backs to make it out of a situation.
His throat tightened. He couldn’t live with the aftermath if things didn’t play out in their favor. Damn this man and his fierce push to build on whatever was kindling between them. Nick craved giving in to Ian, recalling the safety and protection he had felt in his embrace the day before. Every lingering look, graze of skin, and hint of want in those eyes had him longing for a chance…a future with Ian at his side.
He exhaled a shaky breath as the hope threatened to vanish.
“Nick?”
He looked up at Ian, his tone commanding his attention and pulling him from his spiraling thoughts.
“I promise. We’ll find an answer.”
A sense of relief flooded Nick’s entire body with those few words. Ian may be contemporary and modern in many ways, but he was a traditionalist when it came to the power of his words. He’d rarely spoken to the staff while at the restaurant, instead focusing solely on their conversations. Each word had been carefully chosen and voiced with full conviction.
For Ian, Nick knew a promise was solemn and sacred.
He nodded in response, grabbing onto that lifeline with every ounce of strength in his tired body, grateful for finally feeling as if the weight on his shoulders had lessened.
═ ☼ ═
“We could take him there,” Dex said, barely waiting five minutes after Nick had retreated to the guest room later that evening.
“Keep your voice down.” Killian sighed. His mind had raced for hours, trying to find a solution. He had two possible answers, one more tried and true than the other, but both came at a cost.
“I figured you’d jump at the chance. Keep your guy on a private island until he gives in to your caveman ways.”
Killian turned to his friend. It was clear the man liked Nick. But it was obvious he hadn’t been able to formulate a workable solution based on the frustration on his face.
“That’s exactly why it’s not an option at the moment.”
Dex shook his head. “You’re stubborn,” he hissed in a low whisper. “The island is big enough for the both of you.”
“You’re being shortsighted.” Killian pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “This isn’t about me.”
“This is the answer,” Dex said, speaking through a clenched jaw. “It’s the only answer.”
Killian lowered his hand, resting both forearms on his knees as they sat on the living room couch. He quieted for a moment, sensing Dex’s escalating frustration. He couldn’t get upset about it. The same concern coursed through his own veins. “Right now, it’s still up to him. If we were to take him there as the answer, he no longer has a choice. And I’m not going to be the one who stole his freedom.”
“What the hell choices are there now? ’Cause I’m not seeing an out here.”
“We have the resources to set him up with a rock-solid identity anywhere in the world he wants.”
“That’ll only buy him some time. You know it’s a small world. It’s what he tried to do two years ago and look where he’s at now.”
“You know we can probably get better quality credentials than what he’s got. When he burns the identity, we’ll get him another and buy him more time.” Killian sighed and shook his head. “He’s chosen to run for the last two years. Maybe more. He could have turned and gone into WITSEC. The marshals would have scooped up the chance in a heartbeat at getting their hands on Petrov.”
“Nick doesn’t strike me as a snitch.”
“Agreed. It’s more about the loss of control. He would have been forced to surrender his freedom and ability to choose. And he needs to have a choice.”
“But—”
Killian leaned forward. “I’m not taking that from him.”
Dex leaned back on the couch and stretched his arms along the back. “So I’ve got a question then.”
“Go ahead.”
His friend stared at him with an intensity that rivaled his own. “Would you make him the offer if you guys were together?”
“No,” Killian responded without a moment of hesitation.
Dex threw his hands up in surrender. “You’re not making any sense.”
Killian stood from the couch and headed into the kitchen. He grabbed two bottles of water and set them on the countertop. “Think about it. It’s a life sentence.”
“No, Killian.” He shook his head repeatedly. Dex rose from his spot on the couch and stood in front of him. “It’s a commitment.”
His friend inched forward and jabbed his finger at Killian’s chest. “You’ve got it stuck in your head that you’re this evil monster who doesn’t deserve to be happy…and that’s just bullshit. That guy is crazy about you. Can’t you see that? You freak most people out.” Dex shook his head and chuckled. “But you don’t even make him flinch. That reason alone is enough to hold him hostage at your side.”
Killian frowned.
“Oh c’mon. You can kill a man with a fucking paperclip. Don’t look so surprised.”
Killian arched an eyebrow and slowly glanced down at the finger poking his chest.
Dex immediately withdrew his finger. “The point I’m trying to make is, don’t assume he wouldn’t want that option. You’re so used to planning worst-case scenarios, you’re having a hard time seeing the positive here. It’s not a life sentence. It’s a beautiful, perfect solution to a screwed-up situation with no outs.”
Killian shook his head. “It’s not an option yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’ll look for him.” Killian waited, knowing the reasons would finally smack his friend upside the head once his frustration cooled. He cracked open the top of his bottled water and took a sip, waiting for the reality of the situation to sink in. “Think about it.”
The answer would eventually hit Dex. He preferred to think through scenarios rather than have Killian feed him the answer. Another sip and more waiting. Killian raised an eyebrow when Dex took more time than he thought necessary to connect the dots.
Dex finally sobered. He rubbed his eyes then snatched his own bottle of water. “If they come looking for him there…then everyone’s in danger.”
“Now do you see why the island’s not an option?”
“Yeah, not right now. But…maybe it will be?”
Killian took a deep breath, hoping Dex would stop pushing and for the sudden weight settling in the pit of his stomach to disappear.
They both settled on the couch again, a cloud of somber silence hovering around them. They leaned back, silently staring at the television at some ridiculous movie with no logical plot but enough explosions to keep their attention.
“I like him,” Dex said.
“Me too.”
“He makes you smile. I want to keep him.”
“He’s not a puppy.”
“Shut up.” Dex leaned over and bumped his shoulder. “You know you want to keep him too.”
Killian’s mind continued to flood with different options, all of which he shot down as unviable. He had enough resources and connections to come up with the necessary paperwork and background to set Nick up with a new identity so he could hide.
If that was what Nick wanted.
Killian took a deep breath, ignoring the sudden ache coiling in his chest.
He’d do whatever Nick needed to be happy and free.
Even if that meant letting him go.