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//-->NIKOLAI (Her Russian Protector, Book Four)By Roxie RiveraCopyright © 2013 by Roxie RiveraAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributedin any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.Smashwords EditionThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with anotherperson, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this bookand did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return toSmashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard workof this author.Table of ContentsChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-OneChapter Twenty-TwoChapter Twenty-ThreeChapter Twenty-FourEpilogueAuthor's NoteRoxie's BacklistChapter OneWith a sharp inhale, I bolted awake. Blinking rapidly, I tried to clear my fuzzy,panicked thoughts. I wiped a shaking hand down my face and shoved up into a sittingposition. Still confused from the nightmare, I frantically searched the bedroom until mygaze landed on the nightlight near the door.It was the same dream that had plagued me since the night I'd been shot. Nearlyeleven years had passed since that awful April night but the memories were still so real,still so raw. I rubbed the spots on my chest and belly that ached with the phantom painsof bullets ripping through my flesh.My gaze jumped to the doorway and I half expected Lena to come running into myroom to check on me. Even though she'd been officially out of the apartment for a week, Istill hadn't adjusted to her absence. After living together for so long, it was going to takesome time for me to get used to being alone again.Certain I wouldn't be able to sleep, I glanced at the clock. It was a bit early to start mymorning run but I couldn't sit here in this quiet, empty apartment with my troubledthoughts. I switched off my alarm, slipped out of bed and went through my morningroutine.A quick peek out the window helped me choose my running gear. Though the streetswere dry now, the Houston weather could change without waning. I made sure to wearlayers because of the late December chill and chose a thin rain jacket with reflective tapeon the sleeves and back.With my hair pulled into a high ponytail and ear warmers snugly in place, I pocketedmy MP3 player and headed for the kitchen. My gaze lingered on the box sitting on thekitchen table. I'd found bits and pieces of Lena's stuff since she'd packed up and left.When she returned from her winter vacation with Yuri, I'd make sure she got it.I snatched up my keys and cell phone and tucked them into my pocket. Thumbingthrough the playlists on my iPod, I picked a mix of alternative and electronica andslipped my ear buds into place. My MP3 player fit neatly into the pouch on my earwarmers.Out in the cold morning, I stretched my arms overheard and yawned a few times. Iadjusted the volume of my music before jogging down the sidewalk and across theparking lot. I wasn't at all surprised when two headlights popped on and a silver SUVeased out of a guest spot. I rolled my eyes in annoyance but waved at the poor guyNikolai had forced to babysit me today.Such were the "perks" of having a Russian mobster as a guardian. Though I loathedbeing followed every minute of the day, I understood why I had that SUV shadowing mealong my run. I'd hoped things would go back to normal for me after Lena and Yurisurvived their harrowing brush with death and the Guzman Cartel had let her father gobut it wasn't to be.In the last week, word had reached Nikolai that my incarcerated father's impendingrelease had been bumped up. Not knowing the exact date of his release left me on edge.Even more troubling for me? No one knewhowhe'd managed to get early release fromthe pen. A man like my father wasn't going to earn release for good behavior. Justthinking about what he might have done to get popped from lockup made my stomachsour. Deep down inside, I knew he'd find a way to drag me back down into the shit withhim.As my feet pounded the familiar three-mile path, I let my mind wander. Lately, mythoughts seemed to always circle back to Nikolai. Our odd relationship was one that fewpeople could understand. From the moment he'd appeared in my life that terrible Aprilnight nearly eleven years earlier, we'd been forever entangled.My chest tightened as I remembered the stupid thing I'd done. So desperate to beloved by my loser father, I'd let him talk me into helping him break into a house. He'dsworn the owners were out of town and that we were simply going to take some jewelryand money from a safe. Then he'd take me away from Houston, away from thegrandparents who were suffocating me and keeping me away from him, and off to a newlife where we'd be happy.Looking back, I couldn't believe I'd beenthatgullible. Even at the tender age of eleven,I should have known better. Hell, maybe Ihadknown better but I'd been so emotionallydamaged by the suicide of my mother that I didn't care. I just desperately needed tobelieve that one of my parents loved me enough to want me.But the house we'd broken into wasn't empty at all. Someone had been sleeping there.Someone with a gun. Someone with very good aim. Someone who shot me while I triedto flee out a second-story window with a hoodie stuffed with jewelry and cash while myfather ran out the back door.My gut lurched as the memory of the free fall from that window hit me hard. I joggedin place at an intersection and tried to get a grip on my wild emotions.Breathe. Justbreathe.Glancing both ways, I crossed the intersection and hopped onto the curb. Thetightness in my chest eased as I remembered the way Nikolai had saved my life. Whilemy rotten, cowardly father had fled the scene, Nikolai and some of the neighbors hadbeen awakened by the gunshots. He'd knelt at my side, cradling my head with one handand pressing a wadded up towel to my bleeding belly and chest with the other until theparamedics and police had arrived.Later, when I'd woken up in the hospital, I'd learned that Nikolai and mygrandparents actually knew each other from back in Russia. From that point forward,he'd been a shadowy character in the background of my life. It wasn't until mygrandmother suddenly passed during my senior year of high school and my grandfathersuccumbed to an aggressive case of early-onset Alzheimer's that Nikolai stepped out ofthose shadows and offered his help and friendship.Generally, people made one of two assumptions when it came to our curiousrelationship. They assumed Nikolai had taken on the role of my father figure after myown had been thrown in the federal pen.He hadn't. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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//-->NIKOLAI (Her Russian Protector, Book Four)By Roxie RiveraCopyright © 2013 by Roxie RiveraAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributedin any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.Smashwords EditionThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with anotherperson, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this bookand did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return toSmashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard workof this author.Table of ContentsChapter OneChapter TwoChapter ThreeChapter FourChapter FiveChapter SixChapter SevenChapter EightChapter NineChapter TenChapter ElevenChapter TwelveChapter ThirteenChapter FourteenChapter FifteenChapter SixteenChapter SeventeenChapter EighteenChapter NineteenChapter TwentyChapter Twenty-OneChapter Twenty-TwoChapter Twenty-ThreeChapter Twenty-FourEpilogueAuthor's NoteRoxie's BacklistChapter OneWith a sharp inhale, I bolted awake. Blinking rapidly, I tried to clear my fuzzy,panicked thoughts. I wiped a shaking hand down my face and shoved up into a sittingposition. Still confused from the nightmare, I frantically searched the bedroom until mygaze landed on the nightlight near the door.It was the same dream that had plagued me since the night I'd been shot. Nearlyeleven years had passed since that awful April night but the memories were still so real,still so raw. I rubbed the spots on my chest and belly that ached with the phantom painsof bullets ripping through my flesh.My gaze jumped to the doorway and I half expected Lena to come running into myroom to check on me. Even though she'd been officially out of the apartment for a week, Istill hadn't adjusted to her absence. After living together for so long, it was going to takesome time for me to get used to being alone again.Certain I wouldn't be able to sleep, I glanced at the clock. It was a bit early to start mymorning run but I couldn't sit here in this quiet, empty apartment with my troubledthoughts. I switched off my alarm, slipped out of bed and went through my morningroutine.A quick peek out the window helped me choose my running gear. Though the streetswere dry now, the Houston weather could change without waning. I made sure to wearlayers because of the late December chill and chose a thin rain jacket with reflective tapeon the sleeves and back.With my hair pulled into a high ponytail and ear warmers snugly in place, I pocketedmy MP3 player and headed for the kitchen. My gaze lingered on the box sitting on thekitchen table. I'd found bits and pieces of Lena's stuff since she'd packed up and left.When she returned from her winter vacation with Yuri, I'd make sure she got it.I snatched up my keys and cell phone and tucked them into my pocket. Thumbingthrough the playlists on my iPod, I picked a mix of alternative and electronica andslipped my ear buds into place. My MP3 player fit neatly into the pouch on my earwarmers.Out in the cold morning, I stretched my arms overheard and yawned a few times. Iadjusted the volume of my music before jogging down the sidewalk and across theparking lot. I wasn't at all surprised when two headlights popped on and a silver SUVeased out of a guest spot. I rolled my eyes in annoyance but waved at the poor guyNikolai had forced to babysit me today.Such were the "perks" of having a Russian mobster as a guardian. Though I loathedbeing followed every minute of the day, I understood why I had that SUV shadowing mealong my run. I'd hoped things would go back to normal for me after Lena and Yurisurvived their harrowing brush with death and the Guzman Cartel had let her father gobut it wasn't to be.In the last week, word had reached Nikolai that my incarcerated father's impendingrelease had been bumped up. Not knowing the exact date of his release left me on edge.Even more troubling for me? No one knewhowhe'd managed to get early release fromthe pen. A man like my father wasn't going to earn release for good behavior. Justthinking about what he might have done to get popped from lockup made my stomachsour. Deep down inside, I knew he'd find a way to drag me back down into the shit withhim.As my feet pounded the familiar three-mile path, I let my mind wander. Lately, mythoughts seemed to always circle back to Nikolai. Our odd relationship was one that fewpeople could understand. From the moment he'd appeared in my life that terrible Aprilnight nearly eleven years earlier, we'd been forever entangled.My chest tightened as I remembered the stupid thing I'd done. So desperate to beloved by my loser father, I'd let him talk me into helping him break into a house. He'dsworn the owners were out of town and that we were simply going to take some jewelryand money from a safe. Then he'd take me away from Houston, away from thegrandparents who were suffocating me and keeping me away from him, and off to a newlife where we'd be happy.Looking back, I couldn't believe I'd beenthatgullible. Even at the tender age of eleven,I should have known better. Hell, maybe Ihadknown better but I'd been so emotionallydamaged by the suicide of my mother that I didn't care. I just desperately needed tobelieve that one of my parents loved me enough to want me.But the house we'd broken into wasn't empty at all. Someone had been sleeping there.Someone with a gun. Someone with very good aim. Someone who shot me while I triedto flee out a second-story window with a hoodie stuffed with jewelry and cash while myfather ran out the back door.My gut lurched as the memory of the free fall from that window hit me hard. I joggedin place at an intersection and tried to get a grip on my wild emotions.Breathe. Justbreathe.Glancing both ways, I crossed the intersection and hopped onto the curb. Thetightness in my chest eased as I remembered the way Nikolai had saved my life. Whilemy rotten, cowardly father had fled the scene, Nikolai and some of the neighbors hadbeen awakened by the gunshots. He'd knelt at my side, cradling my head with one handand pressing a wadded up towel to my bleeding belly and chest with the other until theparamedics and police had arrived.Later, when I'd woken up in the hospital, I'd learned that Nikolai and mygrandparents actually knew each other from back in Russia. From that point forward,he'd been a shadowy character in the background of my life. It wasn't until mygrandmother suddenly passed during my senior year of high school and my grandfathersuccumbed to an aggressive case of early-onset Alzheimer's that Nikolai stepped out ofthose shadows and offered his help and friendship.Generally, people made one of two assumptions when it came to our curiousrelationship. They assumed Nikolai had taken on the role of my father figure after myown had been thrown in the federal pen.He hadn't. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]