Page 64 of The Wrong Monster

“Why would he be afraid of me, though?”

Vasily’s gaze sharpens. His eyes drag from my feet up to my face, calculating. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, because I’m standing before a predator and he’s evaluating me. If I’m found lacking or lying…

“I don’t know.”

The relief hits like a train. He believes me.

For once, there is no argument waiting behind his words. Just exhaustion, and something else. Pain? Or guilt maybe?

He looks toward the door again, and the anger drains from his face for the briefest moment.

“He shouldn’t have been involved in any of this.”

The words are quiet. I stare at him. Not he shouldn’t have betrayed me. Not he was a liability.

He says it like he’s talking about a kid who never should have been pulled into this world in the first place.

“You care about him.”

Vasily’s eyes snap back to mine. The hallway is dark; it’s just past 10 p.m., a thin line of light coming from beneath the door of the room Kevin is being kept in.

“Of course I care about him.”

The answer comes so quickly that I believe him, and that’s the problem.

Because the man standing in front of me is a murderer. A criminal. A Bratva boss whose organization is built on things I’ve spent my whole life keeping outside my own front door.

But he’s also the man who has spent what I’m assuming, from my arguments with Arthur, hours sitting beside an injured teenager’s bed. He is furious because someone hurt a kid under his protection.

My neat little categories suddenly feel less neat, shuffling around in my head, trying to figure out where to slot Vasily Borisov. Could he be more than just a criminal?

I swallow.

“I’ll figure out what happened with Mikhail.”

Vasily’s expression tightens again. “You’d better.”

I almost snap back, but when his eyes dart toward the kid’s room, I press my lips together and take a step away. Back in the direction of my own room.

I don’t know what Kevin knows about me or why he was afraid. But I do know that I want to help Vasily. This whole time I’ve been thinking he was the monster, but it turns out the monster is the man who put this kid in a state of panic and pain. Vasily brought me here to fight him.

He—they—need me.

Chapter 18

Vasily

Art gets off the phone and slips it into his coat pocket.

“She didn’t listen. They’re on their way.”

I close my eyes for half a second. Of course she didn’t listen; what made me think she would?

The drizzle has been falling for most of the afternoon, fine enough to be irritating rather than beautiful. It settles on my coat and darkens the shoulders of my shirt as I stare across the property.

The land stretches toward the trees, several acres of quiet wilderness south of Lake Placid and closer to Long Lake. It’s a beautiful location for another lodge. Private. Expensive. Difficult to access.

Exactly what I want.