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38
KIRILL
They’re late.
I’m considering going to kick in Rayne’s father’s front door just like I kicked in hers. I’ll kick in every Garner family door in existence if that’s what it takes.
Impatient and twitching with energy, I survey my surroundings. The park I chose for us to meet in is tucked into the back of a wealthy neighborhood. There’s a lake behind the colorful playground equipment and a walking trail that seems to serve mainly the over-sixty crowd. The rich white women make nervous eyes at me as they pass. Fearing what a man like me, with murder in his eyes like I have in mine, might do to them. Or maybe hoping for it.
Rayne should stand out in this crowd, but I don’t see her anywhere. I check my watch. Ten minutes late. No—eleven.
Then again, she never actually agreed to meet me here. I left the hotel room before she could.
Truthfully, I left before I could throw her back on the bed and make her scream my name again. The first time accomplished what I wanted it to. Rayne admitted how she felt about me. Doing it again would have been toying with disaster.
I might’ve admitted how I felt about her.
Still, even the slightest brush of her mouth against mine had me ready for round two. I walked out of that hotel with a raging hard-on. One I’m still fighting back at just the memory.
I look up as an elderly woman in a maroon tracksuit hurries by, her eyes narrowed in my direction like she can read my dirty thoughts.
I’m doing my best not to look like a man turned on while sitting near a children’s playground when Rayne finally appears on the path to the right. She has on skinny jeans and a cropped sweatshirt. A bouncing Yuliana clings to her hand.
The moment I see the two of them together, I can perfectly picture myself standing on Yuliana’s other side. I’d squeeze her hand and swing her between our arms.
It’s a nice picture, even if it gives me chills. It’s nothing I ever pictured for myself, but it seems so obviously right.
Now, I’m going to make sure Rayne can see it, too.
“Sorry we’re late,” Rayne mumbles, looking down at Yuliana instead of at me.
Yuliana is staring out at the lake, admiring the geese as they flap around in the water. As soon as Rayne speaks, she whips around. The smile on her face falls when she notices me. She pulls away, tucking her chin against her chest.
“I was about to send out a search party to track you down. I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”
Most people are joking when they say things like that. I’m not. I’d have had a dozen men combing the corners of the city for her at the snap of my fingers.
Rayne knows it, too. She bites the corner of her bottom lip and continues not looking at me. It’s for the best. The lust in my eyes would send her running head-first into the lake.
I turn my attention to our daughter. “It’s good to see you again, Yuliana.” I kneel down in front of her. “I like your outfit.” She’s wearing a purple dress with matching purple tights and light-up purple shoes.
“She dressed herself this morning,” Rayne explains, biting back a fond smile.
“You did a great job. All of your clothes match, which is better than I can do most of the time.”
Yuliana’s cheeks flush. I can’t help but glance up at her mother. That’s a trait they share. She tucks her blushing face into Rayne’s leg and peeks up at me out of the corner of her eyes.
“You remember Kirill,” Rayne whispers, patting her shoulder. “He gave us a ride the other day. You drew that picture for him.”
“I still want to see that, by the way,” I chime in. “I didn’t forget I left without claiming my Yuliana Original Artwork.”
She smiles, but still won’t look at me. Instead, she faces the playground. “Can I go, Mama?”
Rayne sighs and nudges her along. “Go on and play. We’ll be over here if you need us.”
We. Us.Without thinking about it, Rayne is lumping herself in with me. It doesn’t seem like much to the naked eye, but I see it for what it is: the beginning of the end.
The end of her resistance.
