Becoming Rain: A Novel

I interlace my fingers through Rain’s as we weave through a thick crowd at The Cellar, the deep bass vibrating through my chest as usual. Though I’ve taken plenty of women out, I’ve never brought one in.

But Rain’s different.

“Trust me, there’s no need to be nervous. You’re gonna love Rust.”

Her broad smile sprouts those sexy dimples. “If he’s anything like you then I don’t doubt it. I just hope he likes me. I mean, he’s basically your dad.”

“He’d have to be insane not to love you.” She’s wearing dark red lipstick tonight. I can’t wait to take her home and let her cover my body with it, something I normally never like.

Passing the bar, I catch Priscilla watching us from behind a wall of customers. I’m sure she’s figured out by now that it’s over between us. I’d be surprised if she cares. A quick glance down sees Rain’s big blue eyes in that general direction. I wonder if she’s put two-and-two together.

I speed up, passing by the stocky bouncer watching over the VIP section to land in our typical booth. “Rust!”

“Well . . . well . . .” As usual, Rust’s on his feet immediately, patting my back as he always does, before turning his attention to Rain. “So you are the lady stealing all of my nephew’s time lately.” I don’t blame him for doing a lightning-speed appraisal of her. I did too, when she stepped out of her condo in this creamy, tight lace dress, the sleeves long but the dress short enough to give me an instant hard-on the minute she climbed into my SUV.

She dips her head, smiling. “Not all of it.” Eyes dart to me, twinkling. “Some.”

“Please.” He holds an arm out toward the booth. Rain slides in, spiking my adrenaline yet again as I see those mile-high legs in full view. “Drinks?” Rust snaps his fingers at a nearby waitress while pouring a glass of vodka from the bottle he never sits down without.

As Rain gives her order, Rust is busy flashing approving eyebrows my way. That’s a good start. “So, Rain, Luke tells me you moved here from D.C. not long ago?”

They go back and forth for the next fifteen minutes, Rust asking her questions about her life, her family, her plans. She answers him with the grace and ease of someone who’s practiced the words, no signs of the nerves she told me about earlier.

Suddenly, Rust squints as if thinking hard. “You know, you look familiar. I can’t quite figure it out.”

“Do I?” She frowns at me. “I don’t know why I would. I just moved to Portland.”

“You saw her that day at the garage.”

His forehead furrows deeper. “Yeah, but . . . have you been here, to this club?”

“Uh . . .” She glances around the space. “Yeah, actually. I think I may have come here once.”

“Really? Hell, we could have been here at the same time,” I say.

She shrugs. “Maybe? I don’t know. My brother recommended a couple of places and I checked them out. Didn’t really stay long. You know, on account of not knowing anyone.”

Rust is watching her over his drink in that way he has, when I know he’s weighing someone. And I’m watching him watch her, not liking it.

Which is probably why none of us notice the irate Russian suddenly hovering at our table. No warning. No hello. Just his beady, calculating eyes leveling Rust with a glare that makes me nervous. I instinctively rope an arm around Rain’s shoulders and pull her into me.

“What are you doing here?”

It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking to me, the question so absurd it’s almost laughable. When I don’t answer, he clarifies with, “I didn’t see your Porsche parked outside.”

He’s still bitter at me for shutting him down at Gold Bonds after the Ferrari deal. “No, you didn’t.” A small part of me has wondered if Vlad had something to do with the jacking, just to be a dick. Rust told me not to say anything, but I can’t help myself. “It’s actually in the police impound, being processed for evidence after some asshole stole it. Would you know anything about that?”

Vlad’s eyes bulge momentarily before he composes himself.

Rust sighs. “Vlad, what brings you here?” By Rust’s expression, he’s not surprised by the visit in the least. He waves for another glass and then slides in, making room for the asshole.

Vlad answers Rust in Russian, his tone cold and cutting. “I heard about the SUVs.”

Shit. The deal with Aref. This clearly isn’t a social call.

Rain’s fingers dig into my leg, looking up at me questioningly. She must sense the tone. Russian doesn’t sound poetic at the best of times. Angry Russian sounds downright scary.

Rust takes his time, sucking back a swig of his vodka. “And?”

“And you are using our connections to do it.” More Russian. Vlad refuses to speak in anything but.

Rust now switches from English to answer him in Russian, his tone snappish. “My channels, my connections. I built those. I don’t get involved in your side. Stay the hell out of mine.”

“You don’t get involved? You’ve been asking a lot of questions about our side lately.”

“Yeah, because you’re gouging me with each new shipment.”

“Do you want out?”

Rust shrugs in a way that tells me he’s getting a bit drunk and therefore bullish. “Maybe.”

“Because the next shipment is expected on time.”

Rust dips his head, taking several deep breaths. Finally, “Relax, Vlad. I’m just diversifying is all. All the orders are out and plans are set. You’ll still get your cars next week and none of this other stuff hits your soil, so there’s no competition with your current buyers.”

“Was this his idea?” I keep my eyes on the crowd, knowing that the asshole is referring to me.

“Luke only does what I ask him to. This lands on me.” A pause. “Got it?”

Vlad’s lips curl back like a feral animal’s. Finally, he says, “Got it.” He downs his drink. Standing up, he leans over just far enough to spit on the floor beside us before marching off.

Rust shoots me a “told you” glare before smiling at Rain. “I’m so sorry about that. Some of my business partners are prickly.”

“I can’t say I’d want to work with him,” she offers, and then leans into me with a smile, seemingly unbothered by the exchange. We stay for another hour or so, Rust telling stories about me as a little kid that make Rain laugh gleefully, and it’s like the whole Vlad thing never happened. Even I start to believe it’s not a big deal.

Until Rain slides past me to hit the restroom and the cheerful mood Rust forced for her benefit vanishes. “This isn’t good, Luke.”

“How did Vlad hear about the deal with Aref?”

He sucks in a breath in thought. “I don’t know. Aref isn’t stupid enough to tell him and he’s never met any of the fences. I keep all the layers away from each other. Helps avoid issues in case someone gets nabbed. Only you and Miller ever talk to Rodriguez and that group, and I know neither of you have said anything.” He pinches the bridge of the nose. “I should have let this partnership die with Viktor. I knew better.”

“So, what now?”

“Now . . . we make sure that the shipment for Vlad and Andrei goes out next week.” His fingers strum against the table as he eyes the people nearby. “Listen . . . how well do you know this girl?”

“Pretty well, why?”

“Something about her rubs me the wrong way.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I slam my glass down, glancing over my shoulder to make sure she’s not coming up on me. “She’s perfect, Rust.”

“Too perfect.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know . . . She didn’t tell you that she’s been here before?”

“I never asked!” I can’t remember half the places I’ve been to. They all start to look the same after a while. “She’s not like the women you normally see me with. That’s the problem.”

“Maybe.” A smile. “You really like this one, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do.”

He dumps his drink back. “Maybe that’s why she raises the hairs on my neck.”