Dmitry's Closet Nelson, S. (best reads TXT) 📖

garage and saw his father over the faucet with tweezers, scissors and thread. He sat his keys on the counter and walked over.

“What happened to you?” he asked unmoved.

“Royal,” he answered, pulling the thread through his flesh.

He smacked on his gum. “She stab you?”

“Dah,”

“Why?”

“She’s woman,” Dmitry groaned, motioning for Anatoly to give him the antiseptic.

“She found out who you were, didn’t she?”

“Dah,” Dmitry said, pouring the chemical over his wound.

“Well then, you should be glad that she didn’t shoot you.” Anatoly walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door, chuckling.

Dmitry shook his head. Anatoly did not know the first thing about love. “She’s a good girl. She was just very afraid. I can’t say that I don’t blame her,” he explained to his son.

Anatoly sifted through the food to find a containerof chilled oysters. Grabbing the small bowl, he closed the door and turned around to look at his father. “Are you sure that you’re ready to do this? To give all of this up for woman who is… not even Russian?”

“You look around and see all these things. I look around and see a large fortress, keeping the whole world out. I don’t want to live like this anymore. And yes, I know that she’s a black woman. I’ve seen more of her than you have. I know. I don’t care about that. I want woman who is going to stand by me, even when it’s in her best interest to run. Let’s not ever forget where we are from, boy. From the streets, lower even, from the gutters of the streets. We have no room to pass judgment on anyone, especially good people.”

“So you’re saying that she’s worth it?”Anatoly was still not completely convinced. He cracked at his father.

Dmitry shook his head. “Yes, so get busy. I want this transition to happen now.”

“The meeting is scheduled for tomorrow. We make the big announcement then.”

“What time tomorrow.”

“Six on the dot.” Anatoly tapped his watch and left the room with his bowl of oysters, headed to the entertainment room to watch television.

Chapter 25

Dmitry decided instead of sleeping in one of the guest rooms to back go to his study. It was his man cave, full of reminders of why he had to press forward whenever times werehard. He had done it a hundred times before, slept in the place he worked. Tonight was no different.

Relaxed, his long body sprawled out over on the long leather sofa with his armselevated on back of the soft wine-colored textile, looking up at the ceiling fan circling above him. The darkness of the room strangely brought him comfort. A world wind of events had taken even him by surprise. And while he had not allowed the feds get under his skin, Royal had. She was quite exceptional at that.

It was the painful tears and the scared stare in her face that disturbed him most. How did she see him now? Would she leave? Would she ever trust him again? He loved her dearly and treasured her like no other woman.

He rubbed his temples and growled. A headache was looming over him. He had worried less about murder than he did about loving her.

With his free hand behind his head, propped up on his waded up, torn shirt, he listened to the crackling of the fireplace and recalled each and every event of the day. Reaching over, he grabbed the crystal container off the table and winced; the wound reminded him of Royal’s aching heart and bad temper. He laughed a little. She was such a firecracker. He poured the last of the brandy in a glass and swallowed it quickly. Drinking heavily was not one of his releases, but he needed to numb the pain in his arm and his heart.

Closing his tired eyes, he tried to cast his cares away and sleep for a few hours when suddenly he heard soft footsteps approaching on the marble outside his door. His eyes popped open. Royal.

The door knob twisted slowly, and a light appeared from the hallway. She stepped inside cautiously. Dmitry lifted his head a little as she made eye contact with him. She closed the door behind her and walked towards him. He followed the unintentional sway of her full hips and admired the silhouette of her body under the silk chemise.

“I came to see if you were…okay,” she whispered, kneeling before him. His peering eyes sparkled like diamonds at her. Even now, she was in awe of how handsome he was.

Dmitry looked at her for a moment without saying a word. She glowed in the darkness of the room. The fireplace made her look like an angel. Her hair danced about her freely, skin free from make-up and resilient. For a moment, he forgot about the pain.

She took his arm and looked at the dressed wound. “I’m sorry,” she said with tears running down her cheeks. “I tried to stay up there as long as I could. Even though you deserved to be brutally stabbed, I still felt bad about it.” She fumbled over her words and swallowed hard.

Dmitry grunted then turned his body to sit up on the sofa. His muscular frame flexed as he moved. She stood up and stepped back. Dmitry automatically wondered if she was still afraid of him. The thought bothered him, frustrated him.

“Come here,” he said, waving her to him. She moved closer to his body slowly and felt his long arm reach out for her waist and pull her to him. He rested his head on her stomach and rubbed her bottom.

Royal wiped the tears from her eyes and lifted his head where he could see her.

“Will you forgive me…for stabbing you?” she asked.

He laughed a little. “Dah.” His deep voice filled the room. “Will you forgive me for being who I am?” His eyes were wide and anxious.

“Mozhet byt’,” she said in a soft voice.

“Perhaps?” Dmitry smiled. “Well, I guest that’s better than net.”

“Dah,” she said again.

“You know your