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“I should be the one comforting you,” he muttered, something dark in his eyes.
“You were terrified to lose me. It’s okay to need comfort, Damien. I always knew you’d find me. But you didn’t know if I’d still be alive when you found me. Of course that’d mess with your head.”
I wasn’t saying I was fine. It took me hours to fall asleep because all I saw when I closed my eyes was Artur staring down at me as I trembled on the ground beside the car, that lethal shine to his eyes the same I’d seen in Dad’s so many times. That had left its mark, but shooting him balanced the scales. I was affected but not traumatised. Shaky, but still strong. Artur having me captured should have broken me, and would have two months ago, but it didn’t.
It helped that there was no one else in danger, only me. Watching Lionel get shot gave me an unshakeable fear of getting someone else killed.
“Damien,” I said when he didn’t reply. I reached up and brushed a lock of burnished gold hair from his eye, trailing my touch down his stubbled cheek. “I’m gonna be okay, but only if you talk to me. Artur’s dead; I’m not scared of him coming back to hurt me. But I’m scared what happened is affecting you a lot more than you’ll admit.”
He blew out a hard breath, his eyes softening, warmth entering them for the first time this morning. “You’re right. It’s affecting me, but I can handle it. I just need you close. And—we’ll be safer in the flat, where we can monitor the security feeds.”
I stroked his jaw with my thumb. “We can stay inside for a few days if that’s what you need. I’m in no rush to leave.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he nodded. “I’d feel better if we stayed in.”
I linked my fingers behind his neck and pulled him down for a deep kiss, my movements unhurried, another reminder that I was here, we were both safe.
“Thank you,” he said when we broke for air, his voice husky. “For taking care of me.”
“I’m your wife,” I reminded him, unable to resist another kiss. “I’ll always take care of you. Now tell me about your nightmares.”
He glanced away, and when he looked back there was a mask over his emotions and a smile on his face I didn’t believe. “What nightmares?”
I wanted to press until he opened up to me, but I let go when he resumed his whirlwind of breakfast prep. It was too soon right now. Besides, the twins had been suspiciously quiet, and something told me they weren’t passed out snoring on the sofa.
I’d coax Damien into talking about his nightmares later.
CHAPTER 17
DAMIEN
Have you ever watched your life fall apart, unspooling thread by thread so fast you stand no hope of catching it in your hands? That’s how it felt when a staccato knock came at the door, the rapping of knuckles as loud as gunshots over the quiet strains of music playing on the TV. I gestured for Vasilisa to get off the sofa, my heart beating erratically as I drew my gun and approached the door. A tremor ran down my arm and through my hand. It didn’t matter that Eli was outside, that there were fifty guards stationed in the building, blending into the shadows, and a team monitoring feeds all through the car park, stairwells, lifts, and corridors. No one got in without my team knowing, and if they knew, I knew.
But ice water dumped into my blood at the knock, and somehow, some way, I knew it was Armand Finch, come to hurt my girl.Never. Fucking never.I’d die before I let it happen.
Vasilisa had been laughing at Sparrow’s upside down snoring a moment ago; her eyes were wide now, her face unsmiling asshe backed up across the room. The dogs now jostled the door on either side of me, barking their heads off.
I only hit the unlock button when Vasya moved out of sight of the door.
When I swung it open, it wasn’t Finch on the other side. It was Dad. My shoulders dropped. I dragged in a rough breath of relief, but that was when everything began to unravel.
“Think I was someone else?” he asked when I opened the door wider, putting my gun back in its holster. “He’d never make it in the building without getting shot to bits, and you know it.”
“I know,” I muttered, shutting the door after rapidly scanning the hallway outside. Eli gave me a salute. All was clear. Vasya was safe. She wasfine.No one would hurt her.
“Kavan!” Vasilisa said brightly, rushing across the room. “Are you okay? How’s the house?”
“Still blown to shit,” Dad replied, opening his arms for a hug. She still looked a little baffled by the easy affection, but she hugged him before dropping back into her spot on the sofa, leaving the twins to mob Dad with copious amounts of drool and low, growling excitement.
“You mischief makers,” he greeted them amiably, roughly stroking their massive heads with both hands. “So what happened to you two?” he asked, throwing a look between me and Vasilisa, amusement and worry twinned in his black eyes.
My stomach dropped to my feet.
I froze.
“We worried about you when you didn’t show up to family dinner,” Dad added with a smile. “I was nominated to come check on you, make sure you were handling everything okay.Everythingbeing the explosion, attack, and kidnap, in case I wasn’t clear.”
He said it flippantly, encouraging us to laugh about it, but my expression didn’t shift.
