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Her screams start to taper off immediately, but she’s still tense. Her breathing is erratic. There are tears pouring down her cheeks.
“I’m here with you. I’ve got you.”
That does the trick. Eventually, she curls against my chest and eases back to sleep.
I can’t undo what Akim did to her. All I can do is hold her through it.
But I’ll die to make sure no one gets the chance to hurt her again.
25
LUNA
I close my eyes and try to ignore the prickle on the back of my neck. That sickeningly familiar itch along my spine, like someone is watching me. I’ve been feeling it for days. Every time I step outside or even get near a window, I’m positive I feel eyes on me.
It’s paranoia. I know that.
I was kidnapped from this house. I watched Mariya get shot in the front yard. So of course my body is still on high alert. Especially now that I’m pregnant and more protective over myself than ever before.
Still, knowing it's paranoia does not make it any easier to relax.
That’s why I’m sitting by the pool, forcing myself to get my tan on and not think about my chances of being attacked or murdered.
I could tell Yakov how I’ve been feeling, but he’s finally giving me more space. Sure, he saw me cutting an apple this morning and insisted on doing it for me so I wouldn’t, in his words, “give myself a c-section.” But to be fair to him, my knife skills in the kitchen are lacking and that apple was unusually firm.
But sitting by the pool and relaxing is something I’m more than capable of doing on my own. I don’t need any help with that. This mansion is well-secured and I am safe here.
As soon as I sink into a comfortable position, the sound of a rock skittering across the pavement behind me sends me bolt upright.
I spin around, my heart in my throat and my hands in a sloppy defensive position. Mariya stops a few feet away, eyebrows raised. “Whoa.”
I blow out a breath. “Sorry. I was dozing off and you startled me.”
“Mind if I join you or are you going to give me a swift roundhouse kick to the side of the head?”
I pat my bump. “My days of roundhouse kicks are over. Actually, they never started. I dropped out of middle school karate after one week.”
“That’s fine. I can fight well enough for the both of us.” Mariya throws a few air punches.
She’s kidding, but my mind flashes back to the night she was shot. To watching her fight three grown men with guns in the front lawn. It was impressive—right up until the moment when a bullet tore through her shoulder and she crumpled to the ground.
Maybe I should learn how to fight. Yakov will never let me train while I’m pregnant, but once the babies are here… It would be nice to feel like I have some ability to protect the people I love. Mariya is very much included in that list.
Mariya clears her throat loudly, still throwing air punches.
“I saw you,” I say. “Very impressive. The wind is terrified of you.”
She raises her left arm into the air, rolling the joint at the shoulder. “Hello? Notice anything newly healed and cleared for light use?”
I gasp. “Your arm! You got your cast off?”
She grins. “No more cast and no more sling. I am officially healed. Except for the nerve damage and the many more months of physical therapy ahead. But otherwise, I’m healed.”
“Mariya, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.”
“Me, too.” She flops down in the lounger next to me. “There was always an itch just around my elbow that no pencil could reach. Plus, my cast was hard to accessorize.”
“Do you have a lot of outings planned that require accessorizing?” I ask. “Because I’ve been wearing nothing but leggings and bathing suits for weeks.”
