A sound rolls through the man’s throat, an odd gurgling that turns into a wheezing half-chuckle, half-moan of pain. “Are you so sure?”
It’s a simple question, a reaction from a man nearly out of his mind with pain. But that simple question, with its amused, almost gleeful tone, echoes what Tsepov told me that day at the restaurant.
I would watch your back because you never know who’s coming for it.
With a roar, I rear back and bring my fist down onto the man’s cheek. Something gives under my hand, and the man’s head falls back. I don’t know whether he’s unconscious or dead, but I don’t care.
It takes me longer than I’d like to get myself back under control, to keep from pummeling the man until he’s unrecognizable.
“Kill him. Make it slow. Dump the body where Tsepov sees it. I want my message clear. He’s to know he’s woken the Demon, and I’m done playing nice.”
As I stalk from the room, slipping my jacket back on to cover the blood on my shirt, I know with certainty that Tsepov’s challenge wasn’t a lie to knock me off balance. Someone inside my Bratva has betrayed me. Someone tore Eva from my arms and destroyed her family.
And Iwillfind out who.
28
EVA
“Special pizza delivery.” Marco holds up the bag while the bell over the bookstore’s front door jingles, announcing his arrival. “Onions, olives, peppers, meatballs, pineapple, and sweet peppers.”
My brother wrinkles his nose as he says the last part.
“Blame the babies,” I say, getting up from behind the counter to grab the bag from him. “Thank God you’re here. I was afraid I was going to faint.”
Marco barely has his sub unboxed, and I’ve already scarfed my way through half a slice of pizza like someone who hasn’t eaten in days. My brother looks bemused, but I couldn’t care less as the shakes racking my entire body slow, then finally cease. I’d only been a little dramatic. My blood sugar had been falling, and fast.
I’ve always been a touch hypoglycemic, but the babies and my pregnancy have made it so much worse. The doctor was clear I wasn’t actually eating for three, but simply giving my body the energy it needs to grow two babies into being.
“God, this is so good,” I groan, already on my second slice.
Marco has only taken two bites from his sub. He laughs. “You sure there are only two babies in there? The pizza’s not bad, but I’ve never seen someone go into the throes of ecstasy like that.”
I flip him off, and he laughs again. Then he reaches into the pizza box to snag a tiny meatball.
It looks like I’ve been eating for three, too. Okay, maybe not three, but at nearly twenty weeks, I’m no longer able to hide my pregnancy, even with a baggy sweatshirt. So I’ve given up and bought some maternity clothes.
My bump is still small for twins, but apparently I’m right on schedule, and the babies are right on schedule with their growth. Both seem healthy.
Which means I’ve had to start ignoring the looks thrown my way from our community. I disappear for a while, then come back pregnant? I know there are many questions, and I won’t answer them. I don’t acknowledge the looks or the judgment, either.
I’m judging myself enough as it is.
I would take judgment over my father’s stony silence. Ever since I started showing, he’s taken to pretending I don’t even exist, even when we’re in the same house.
“You want my pickle?”
Marco holds up the pickle spear, and I realize I’ve been staring at it as I munch my way through a third slice of pizza.
“Yes, please.” I grab it before my brother thinks twice about it and alternate between eating that and the pizza.
Marco wrinkles his nose again, and I laugh.
He’s excited about the babies, about becoming an uncle. He’s already volunteered to babysit for me, though I know he has no idea what he’s signed up for.
Hell, I have no idea what’s coming for me. One baby is hard enough, but two? On my own? I don’t expect Marco to stay nights to help me feed and change them. He has his own life and his own place. And I’m the one who got myself into this situation, not him.
Even Katie is excited about having babies in the house. She’s already picked out names for them, though I keep telling her they won’t stick, and she has a Pinterest board with baby gear and nursery ideas she adds to every day.
