TORTURE ME_ The Bandits MC(135)

“We’re going to take Ivan down,” I told her. “That’s the whole purpose of taking Dimitri the way we did. We need to shut Ivan down.”



“Does that include killing him?” she asked, looking back up at me again. Her eyes searched my face, and I knew she wanted me to tell her I wouldn’t kill any of them, but I couldn’t promise her that.



“If we have to, we will.” It was the best answer I could give her. There was always the possibility that he would get away from us, but I didn’t know how to explain to an outsider that our safest option was always going to be to completely eradicate threats like Ivan.



“If you have to,” she repeated, pushing herself back from me. “Why does it sound more like if you want to?”



“Because you don’t understand,” I said. “You don’t know what we’re up against, and you don’t know how this all works.”



“Yeah, because I’m this sheltered history geek who spends all her time in libraries and university lecture halls, right?” she snapped at me resentfully.



I wanted to admit that she was right, and that her academic lifestyle was exactly why I didn’t expect her to get it, but it was also one of the reasons I found her so irresistible. I couldn’t tell her she was right; it would have crushed her and ended my chances of bringing her in.



“Listen, you come from a different world,” I explained, grabbing her hands and pulling her back to me. “I want to protect you from everything outside of your conversations with Dimitri. You weren’t supposed to get involved, and you really don’t want to know what else happens after you talk to him, so please, trust me.”



“I don’t feel like I can.”



“Look, the guy who has to deal with assholes like Ivan isn’t the guy standing in front of you right now. He’s certainly not the same guy you slept with. Understand that, for some of us, work isn’t all we are. We aren’t all lucky enough to find a job where we really get to be a hundred percent all the time. History is who you are. It’s you through and through, and you get to work with Russian history and Russian culture, and I’m willing to bet there aren’t too many other things you think about during the day. Am I right?”



She stared at me, wide-eyed.



“I’ll take that as a yes. Look, I got into this because I love motorcycles. I love the way it feels to hop on my bike and hit the open road. Whether you’re an outlaw biker or one of these new school cats who keep it clean and work nine to five, you got into it because you love the way the bike feels, and you love what it means. I got into what we do for a living so that I could ride all the time and so that we could also control what comes in and out of our communities. We’re not in it just for the money, though that’s nice. We’re in it to monitor what’s going on.”



She tilted her head. “Don’t make yourself sound like a hero, Gage. You’re far from it.” She pushed herself away from me again and grabbed her jeans from the floor. She dropped her pants, and I caught a brief glimpse of her hot pink cotton panties before she pulled her jeans up over them. I wanted to bend her over the side of the bed and just slide those panties to the side. The color made her skin look so delicious and innocent.



“You coming?” she asked as she walked out of her room, zipping and buttoning her jeans as she went.



“Wait, you’re coming back?”



“Just to get some answers. Then, I’m out.”





Chapter 20



Julia



Dimitri looked pretty rough when I walked into the room. He sat slumped against the ropes on his chest. At first, I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing, so I approached him slowly to make sure he was. I held my hand up to Gage and his men to keep them waiting at the door while I checked on him. His chest heaved slightly in the dim light, and I gave them the thumbs up to close me in the room with him.



Once the heavy steel door slammed shut, I sat down across from the tired, beaten down Russian. The table had been moved out of the way, but my small chair still sat about where it would have if it hadn’t been moved.



“Dimitri, I’m here,” I assured him in Russian.



“Don’t let them back in here,” he croaked.



“Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, they don’t seem to be as eager to come in here.”



“Good. Thank you for coming back.” He looked up at me, and I could see his severely beaten face. His life was turning into a horror movie.



“How do you know I left?” I asked him.