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Sparks of joy open in me like blossoms in the rain. I drop the bottle of water; it rolls off the bed, forgotten.
Smoothing my palms over his face, I tug him down until our lips lock tight. His jaw is scruffy—he hasn’t shaved in two days. It’s a hint at the inner stress he’s been suffering through. I’ve thought about my own stress, but what about his?
This man who is obsessed with saving me and my child and my mother … what pressure that must be. How can he even stand up? I’d be flattened into the dust if so many lives relied on me to keep them safe.
Arsen doesn’t stop kissing me—I keep hold of the back of his neck so he can’t. Something passes between us, a silent acknowledgment of both the late hour and our exhaustion. We’re drained of energy. He shifts, pressing into my curves from behind, hugging me with his chest to my spine. His chin nestles into the gap between my cheek and shoulder.
He mumbles something tender. I can’t discern the words, but I can feel his intent.
His need to reassure me.
What am I going to do?
My body is weighed down by guilt. He promised to tell me anything ... but I’m still hiding Ruslan from him. I want to believe he won’t harm the boy. It helps to know that Pyotr wasn’t a child but a full-grown adult without a shred of redeeming value.
But then, I saw how he was with Madison. He couldn’t tell me flat out that he wouldn’t have ended her life.
And that’s the thing. The monster capable of killing is always inside him. And it stirs to life every time a threat comes near.
But there’s something else that crosses my mind.
Even if he doesn’t harm Ruslan, he will definitely kill Yevgeniy. If Madison can be lured into committing crimes, then so can Ruslan. He loves his father, twisted and vile though Yevgeniy is.
What’s to say that after Arsen ends Yevgeniy’s life, Ruslan won’t be tainted by the same desire for vengeance?
I wish I could convince Arsen to abandon going after Yevgeniy, but I can’t.
Not when he has my mom captive.
All I can do as Arsen holds me close, whispering sweet, indiscernible words, is pray that there’s a way to untangle this mess.
Because how can he rescue my mother … and not find out about Ruslan?
18
ARSEN
“You’re going there?” Galina asks me, her eyes wide, but her voice is torn between fear and hope. She hates that I’m putting myself in danger. I get it. But the reward at the end of this, if I do everything right, is something she’s been begging for daily.
“I have to. The Winter Palace could be where your mother is being held captive.”
Madison claimed there was an older woman there. Yevgeniy might have put Katya to work teaching dance. I can’t discount the idea that this is a trap. But what if it isn’t? I don’t have a reason to believe a lick of what came out of that girl’s mouth, but the Winter Palace was already on my list to investigate. Mikhail rattled off a few locations when Mila interrogated him.
This was one of them.
I haven’t been back there since the day I killed Pyotr.
Galina, who’s now staring at me with yearning, making her eyes sparkle, brought that bastard back to the forefront of my mind. I told her that every kill stays with me, and it’s the truth. But I’ve never had to think about Pyotr because his was the only death that was completely justified.
Having her utter his name in my bed felt like having my skin peeled off with a dull knife.
The final image imprinted in my mind of him is still vivid. His body was slumped over the bed he’d been raping Mila in. The blankets were soaked black from blood. It wasn’t a pretty sight then and it isn’t one now, but I don’t hate it.
It’s comforting to remember that monster is dead. And that I did it.
“Please be careful,” she tells me, clutching me around my middle. The hug is desperate. I want it to go on forever. For too long, our relationship has been fraying. Lately, I can see the border around the puzzle, picture how to re-lay the pieces. With steady hands, I can rebuild our happiness.
We’ll be okay. Out loud, I say, “I’ll be okay.”
