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He looks up, his ocean blue eyes landing on me for a second before he turns his attention back to his desk. “I must say, Stefan, you got significantly more attractive in the last thirty seconds.”
His words are playful, but his voice is flat. I’m usually the bad liar in this family, but Adrik’s mask is worn thin today.
I laugh nervously and step inside. “How’s it going in here?”
“It’s going.”
“Still have a lot to do?” I ask.
He responds by gesturing to the cluttered desk. His laptop is open and stacks of paper are scattered everywhere. The plans the contractor had drawn up are on the edge closest to me. I reach out and grab them just to have something to do with my hands.
“Have you heard how construction is coming along?”
“They’re fast-tracking everything on my orders,” he says. “Should be done in six weeks. Two months tops.”
“That must be expensive.”
“I have the money,” he scowls.
“Yeah, I know. But still… we aren’t in a rush, are we? Isabella likes the safehouse. I’m not sure we’ll be able to pry her out of that blanket fort when the time comes to move back,” I chuckle.
“She can build a new one,” he says without a trace of humor.
I nod and fidget in place. “Right. Yeah.”
I sit in the chair in the corner and twine my fingers together. I want Adrik to say something first, but based on the way he’s bent over his keyboard with his brow creased, I doubt that’s going to happen.
“Have you heard anything from the detectives looking into… everything?” I ask. “All the deaths?”
I get the sense Adrik is frustrated with all my questions, but he doesn’t snap. He just turns his face to me sharply, lips pursed. “The murder-suicide at Yasha’s house was easy enough to deal with because that’s what really happened.”
“Good. I’m glad you aren’t in trouble.”
He nods. “And it wasn’t a stretch to convince the detectives Yasha was having an affair with Sofia and killed her so she wouldn’t tell Veronika.”
“But Veronika found out anyway and killed him?”
“Exactly.” Adrik runs a hand through his hair. “And I have his confession about Pietro on tape.”
“So you’re in the clear?”
“Looks like it.”
Legally, maybe he’s right. But Adrik doesn’t look like he’s in the clear in any other way. Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually. I can see a dark gray cloud hanging over his head. He’s heavy with grief, and I want nothing more than to lift his burdens.
“Can I get you anything to eat? You haven’t had dinner with us the past couple days.”
From where I'm sitting, I can see two protein bar wrappers in the trash can next to the desk.
“I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?”
He closes his eyes and exhales impatiently. "Say what you're here to say, Emery."
"What do you—"
"You and Stefan have been pussy-footing around me for weeks. I'm not fucking fragile. You stabbed me in the side once, remember?"
"Because you deserved it," I snap.
He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. "Very well. Then give me what I deserve now."
“You want to know what you deserve?” I ask. “Okay. Fine.”
I stand up and march around his desk. Adrik spins his chair to face me, his hands tensed on the armrests for whatever is coming next.
Then I plop myself down in his lap, wrap my arms around his neck, and rest my head on his chest.
“This is what you deserve,” I whisper, circling my finger over his shoulder. “A hug. Love. A family. Happiness. All of it.”
“You’re saying I don’t have that already?”
I sit up and grab his face, my palms scratching against his three-day-old stubble. “You aren’t accepting it. You can’t when you’re locked up in here all day long.”
“I have work to do.”
“The house is being rebuilt. The police aren’t chasing you down.” I shrug. “Everything else feels pretty minor right now, doesn’t it? There isn’t enough to do that you can’t see Isabella for two weeks.”
“I’ve seen her.”
“I don’t mean with your eyes,” I snap. “I mean see her. Be with her. She misses you.”
Adrik lifts me by my hips back to my feet. I’m filling out a bit more from the pregnancy, but not enough that it’s noticeable to anyone but me. Adrik would notice, but he’s hardly touched me in weeks. I’m disappointed when his hand falls away without exploring any further like he always does.
“And I miss you, too!” I add bitterly.
He turns back to his desk. “I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”
I frown. “Yes. Which is why I’m standing here telling you that, right now, you aren’t. And I get it, Adrik. I do. You’ve been through so much. But it isn’t going to get better if you stay shut away in here—”
“I told you I’d take care of you,” he repeats. “So that is what I’m doing.”
“Adrik, I…” I shake my head. “This doesn’t make any sense.”
He huffs out a breath and spins back to face me. “I swore I’d take care of my brother and look what happened to him. And Sofia? I was planning to make vows to her, and oops, she’s dead, too. My track record is less than sterling.”
The bubble of frustration that has been expanding since I walked through the door suddenly pops. All that’s left is sadness. Heartbreak.
“Adrik.” I kneel in front of him and plant my hands on his thighs. “Adrik, none of that was your fault.”
“Of course it was. It’s my job to take care of my family, the Bratva… and I failed.”
I shake my head. “No, Sofia lied. Your brother betrayed you. And cheated. And raped me… The list goes on and on with him. But the point is, they were people who made their own choices. You gave them every opportunity to succeed and they didn’t take it. That’s on them.”
He shakes his head to ward off my words. I can tell what I’m saying isn’t penetrating his stubborn skull.
So I pull out the big guns.
I reach into my back pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper. I drop it in his lap. “Isabella wanted me to slide this under your door.”
He glances up at me and then unfolds the piece of paper. But as soon as it’s laying flat on his lap, his shoulders lower. The tension in him eases.
“I had to help her with some of the spelling.” I point to a word at the top of the page. “She never had a reason to learn how to spell ‘Dad’ before.”
Adrik stares at the paper so hard I think he might burn holes in it.
