“Sure. Be right back.”
He’s out the door to the corner store in a moment, and I take a deep breath, rising to clean the remains of our lunch.
The bell rings as I’m in the back, throwing the boxes into the trash and rinsing out a cup for Marco’s soda. It won’t hurt if I take a tiny bit. I haven’t even had any coffee today.
“Be there in a minute!” I call out.
When I walk out to the front, Dmitri is standing in the middle of the store, glancing at a few of the titles I’d arranged on an end cap. He turns at the sound of my entrance, his attention moving first to my face and then to my visible baby bump. We both freeze, panic pushing my heart into my throat.
Dmitri is the first one to break the silence. “Fuck, Eva,” he swears, turns as though to leave, then doubles back, running his hand over his close-cropped hair. “Is it his?”
“Yes. Of course they are,” I snap, offended. I stomp back behind the desk to shuffle receipts without any real reason. If only to hide my quaking hands, there’s a very good chance the Kucherovvorwill drag me back to Evgeny.
And if that happens? Well, I have no idea what will happen. I have no idea if my babies or I will be safe or if I’ll ever get to see them after they’re born.
Except, deep down, I do know, and my tremors cease.
“Did you know— wait, wait, wait.” Dmitri interrupts himself, crossing to the desk in only two large strides. He plants his hands and leans over, eyes boring holes into mine. “Did you saythey?”
Shit!Why hadn’t I been more careful?
I take a deep breath. “Yes. They.”
The expletives that fall from Dmitri’s mouth as he stalks around the bookstore are creative, if long-winded. He finally comes to a stop and sags onto the stool Marco vacated, dragging a hand down his face.
“Evgeny doesn’t know, does he?”
I shake my head.
“Fuck me,” he sighs, and his head drops. “His mom was a twin.”
“I suppose that answers the question.” I wrap my arms protectively around my middle and can’t meet Dmitri’s gaze.
“Eva.” Dmitri’s tone is far softer than I expected it to be, and so is his gaze when I finally raise mine. “He has to know. He deserves to know. They’re his kids, too.”
A flicker of shock races across Dmitri’s face as he says the words, as though he can’t believe he just said them. But I’ve had ample time to get used to the idea.
“Does he?” I snap. “Because after what happened to Jordan, I don’t want him anywhere near my children.”
“Eva, I’m sorry about your brother. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, and I know you’re in a lot of pain. But Evgeny had nothing to do with it. Evgeny made sure everyone knew your family was under his protection and what would happen if anyone went against his word.”
“Maybe Evgeny didn’t kill Jordan, but you can’t tell me that my involvement with him didn’t have anything to do with it. I was working for himagainstTsepov, for Christ’s sake!”
“Evgeny has spent the past two months trying to figure out who killed Jordan and why. We’re getting close.”
It’s not hard to push me toward feeling unsure about my certainty. But I try to hold on for dear life until I can’t anymore.
“Why hasn’t he told me himself?” I ask.
“Because you asked him not to. You asked him never to contact you again. He might be a powerful man, but he has honor, Eva,and he respects you. The Evgeny you saw? It wasn’t some stunt. You saw the real man, the one hiding under all those scars and snarls.”
I think about Marco’s tuition, and the bookstore’s rent as I chip absently at the worn wood of the desk with a fingernail.
“He thinks he’s lost you entirely, Eva.” I look at Dmitri when I hear an unexpected note of sadness in the big man’s voice and realize how worried he is for his boss, how much he cares for his friend. “Eva, being away from you is killing him. He’s a wreck.”
So am I,I want to say. I want to let out the tears squeezing my throat tight, which seem to be never-ending since that day in the warehouse.
“Just give him five minutes, Eva. Just talk to him. Let him tell you what happened and look over all the information I’ve collected. Just five minutes.”
