Screaming people running away into the congealing traffic. And Riley smack in the middle of it, under siege in a shabby little diner with a ridiculous number of guns pointed in his direction. It made Misha’s head spin.
“Should’ve detained him,” Kolya observed laconically, patently unimpressed by the madness they were witnessing.
“What the fuck?” Misha repeated, ignoring him. “Are they fucking out of their fucking minds?”
It was the only explanation he could come up with under the circumstances. This was Riley over there. Misha had only caught a glimpse of him before a few badly aimed bullets from above had driven the man back into the questionable safety of the building, but he would’ve known Riley anywhere. The way he held his head; the smooth, economic way of moving. Misha was achingly familiar with every line and flex of Riley’s body; he didn’t need to see Riley’s face to recognize him even in the midst of chaos. He only hoped Riley’s bad knee would hold up under the stress.
Jesus Christ. This was Riley in there. Sweet-tempered, laid-back, always-trying-to-do-the-right-thing Riley. Surrounded by helicopters and sharpshooters, holed up in a shitty little diner in El Paso, Texas, with three
professional assassins across the street watching and wondering what the fuck was going on.
“Maybe he got involved with terrorists or something?” Andrej offered weakly.
The notion was so moronic Misha finally managed to avert his gaze and look over at his friend, if only to glare at him.
“How the fuck would Riley get involved with terrorists?”
Andrej smiled crookedly, but without real amusement. “Well, there is a precedent. He did fall for a syndicate enforcer.”
“Point,” Kolya piped up from the backseat. He looked ridiculously rested despite his rumpled suit, sprawled out cat-smug as he took in the show. Tie askew, stubble on his cheeks, the smell of coffee and old sweat about him, but not a trace of fatigue in his cool, watchful eyes. Give the order and he’d be off like a shot, the original energizer bunny, hit man edition. It was almost as reassuring as it was aggravating.
“He didn’t know,” Misha snapped. He wanted to smack them both for implying Riley might have a thing for bad boys. Riley didn’t. He wouldn’t have let Misha anywhere near him if he’d had access to all of the footnotes.
Anyway, their situation had been totally different. “He wouldn’t have had time to hook up with anybody anyway,” he added.
“Doesn’t take much time to hook up,” Andrej insisted, playing advocatus diaboli as he always did, but with a lot less delight than usual.
Misha snorted. “You know Riley” was all he had to say about that, and it shut Andrej up nice and fast, because, yes, Andrej did know Riley.