Page 171 of The Bratva King

“Is he…” Sergei’s voice comes behind me.

“Scared,” Maksim finishes.

My brothers have my back. I can do this. I can save my boy.

I keep talking, reciting the facts about dinosaurs that I’ve been learning with him. I talk about swimming. The therapy swing.

I’m running out of things to say. I don’t know how to do this. I’m not good at this. But I have to try.

“Luke, I need you to know something.” I swallow hard. “I love you. Your mom loves you. We’re going to keep you safe. I promise.”

The blanket moves again. This time I see a small gap. One blue eye peeks out at me.

My heart stutters.

“Hi,” I whisper.

He blinks and then disappears under the blanket.

But that’s something. That’s acknowledgment.

“Can I come closer?” I ask. “I won’t touch you. I just want to sit near you.”

No response. But he doesn’t pull the blanket tighter or try to make himself smaller.

I take that as permission.

I move slowly across the floor, stopping when I’m about two feet away. Close enough that he knows I’m here, but far enough that I’m not crowding him.

I sit down and lean my back against the wall.

“This is a scary room,” I say. “It’s too bright. Too loud. I don’t like it, either.”

I see the blanket shift again.

“Do you want to leave?” I ask. “We can go home. Get back to your room with the swing and the sand table. Irina made cookies. Chocolate chip.”

His favorite.

The blanket moves. Slowly, it starts to lower. First, I see the top of his dark hair. Then his forehead. His eyes.

He’s looking at me now. His face is pale and streaked with tears. His eyes are red and swollen.

My chest tears wide open.

“Hey, buddy,” I manage to get out.

“Nik,” he whispers.

I have to bite hard on the inside of my cheek to keep from losing it. “Yeah. It’s me.”

“I want my mom.”

“I know. She’s right outside. Ready to see you.”

“Now?”

“Right now.”