The reminder sends a wave of nausea through me. “I know.”
“And he wanted you to know he knew it.”
I swallow hard while staring down at my hands twisting together in my lap. Jules is right.
“I’m tellin’ you right now,” Jules mutters quietly, “if one more strange man approaches us, I’m buyin’ pepper spray and a taser.”
“A taser?”
“Yes.” He nods firmly. “And maybe one of those little pocket knives women keep attached to their keychains.”
“You realize you’d probably stab yourself accidentally.”
“That feels judgmental,” he says, pursing his lips.
Despite the fear still clawing at my nerves, another small laugh slips out.
Jules squeezes my hand once. “There she is.”
Tears prick my eyes. Under all his sarcasm and drama, Jules is scared, too. But he’s still here and he always will be. He’s my family.
The SUV turns onto the street leading back toward the shelter. My heart jumps when the familiar building comes into view with two black SUVs parked outside. More security.
“Oh, my word,” I whisper.
Ivan finally speaks again as he pulls toward the curb. “Mr. Agapov’s waiting inside.”
My pulse thumps hard. Something about the way he says it makes an awful understanding slowly move through me. Alexei already knows what happened at the market, and judging by the extra security outside the shelter, his reaction wasn’t calm.
17
MAGGIE
Jules looks out the window and lets out a low breath. “Well, this feels cheerful.”
“Don’t start,” I murmur, though my voice has almost no strength behind it.
“Oh, honey, I haven’t even warmed up.”
Ivan climbs out first and opens my door before I can reach for the handle. I climb out, clutching the donation envelopes against my stomach while the humid air wraps around me. Jules follows closely behind with one of the tote bags slung over his shoulder, while Ivan collects the rest, as if none of them weigh more than paper.
We hurry through the front doors and into the lobby, where the familiar noise of barking dogs and volunteers calling to each other should make me feel better. Instead, the whole place feels different because Alexei’s men are everywhere if you know where to look. One stands near the adoption board pretending to check his phone. Another lingers near the hallway leadingtoward the kennels. A third waits by the side exit, his arms folded, and his attention on everyone entering the building.
Jules mutters, “This is no longer a shelter. This is a very furry embassy.”
I almost laugh. Then I see him.
Alexei stands in my office, the door open, wearing a dark suit and an expression so calm it makes every nerve in my body light up. Viktor stands near the desk beside him, one hand clasped loosely in front of him, while Luka scrolls through his tablet nearby, a dark bruise visible beneath one eye.
The second Alexei sees me, everything about his face changes without actually moving much. His eyes lock on mine, icy-blue and intense, and for one weak second, my anger wavers under the force of him being here. But then the anger burns through me.
“Office,” Alexei says.
I raise my eyebrows. “Well, hello to you too.”
His eyes move over me quickly, taking inventory in a way I’ve started to recognize. Face. Hands. Clothes. Any sign of injury. Then his attention moves to Jules and does the same thing.
Jules lifts one hand. “I’m physically intact, emotionally irritated, and spiritually opposed to whatever just happened at the market.”
