Kairos - Blood (MxM) | Book 2 | ✅

40.See You There

Face to face with Sands and only a wooden table between us. If I stretched too much, my feet would have bumped into his oxford shoes. If I leaned too forward, his citrus fragrance would have filled my senses. If I lost my cool too quickly, he would have taken control of the situation.

"Thank you, Viktor," Sands addressed the thug who set a fresh beer on the table before him.

Viktor draped my gray coat over the chair beside me. Safety precaution in case I had some weapon concealed in it? The Russian thug parked his ass in that chair, only inches away from me.

The pit in my stomach widened in awe. Bandaged, his hand rested nearby. I could guess that the burly guy would have wanted nothing more than to bash my face in as payback for his fingers.

My gaze recoiled to the beer in front of Sands. Droplets raced down the curvy smooth surface and pooled at the bottom.

Who was I kidding? I had no control over the situation. But that's fine.

"A man threatened me once. Brave man. But stupid," Sands said with an unpleasant grin.

I frowned reluctantly studying his pale face and icy gray eyes wondering if he was talking about me at Bill's funeral...

"He had wife. So I cut off her tongue and made him eat it."

Bile rose to the back of my throat. I'm fine.

"Do you have wife?" Sands asked in a sickening casual manner.

With a hoarse sigh, I forced the corners of my mouth into a smirk.

"You're trying to scare me and it makes you look weak," I uttered as calmly as I could.

A cold flash animated his gaze. That grin only grew with satisfaction.

"Do you think you are safe inside public place?" Sands cocked his head to the side.

Some rustling to my left startled me numb. That Viktor thug moved his unscathed hand under the table and a blade winked at me from between thick hairy fingers.

"No. I'm not safe. So what's stopping you, Sands?" I asked with a snarl even though my body burned with adrenaline and it took all of my willpower to simply sit there.

"I am curious. I keep you alive. So you will follow quietly and we will go someplace we can talk."

"Talk here," I decided and drowned with some beer my mindless desire to flee.

No way out. There was no way out. But it's going to be fine, Steve. Two Russians sat by the door and another two at the bar.

Sands took in his surroundings as well. With slightly perked brows and a chilling gaze, he appeared to judge everyone and everything around him. A nobleman stuck in the middle of a shit pile would have looked less disgusted.

"Have some beer. Unwind a little and tell me more tales of your victims. Old guys love to talk about the glorious past, don't they?" I urged with a smartass smile playing on my lips.

Viktor grumbled and Sands gestured toward the thug with one finger up. I expected a stab in my thigh and plotted ways to make the injury work in my favor. Have Barney's customers call 911 — an ambulance. Help! The Russian mob is after me! No. Help! I'm a drunk who stabbed himself. Because the truth sounded too strange to be believable.

But the blade remained idle.

"I might cut off your tongue and feed it to you, puppy. Later. Now, you speak."

"About?" I slowly shook my head, feigning confusion.

"Mr.Fox," he said plainly and then leaned closer, whispering, "Jack Rhymes. Who are you to him?"