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Clara helps me back up, no less fussing over me than our daughter.Ourdaughter. As far as I’m concerned, that might as well be Zakrevsky blood running through Willow’s veins. To acknowledge any other feels like an insult to her beauty and kindness.
Plus, that kid showed more guts in the last five minutes than her sperm donor ever has.
“Are you hurt?” Clara pats me down with her worried hands. “I know you’re putting on a brave front for Willow, but?—”
“I’m fine. I promise.” I flash her a charming smile and tip her face up for a sweet kiss.
When she breaks away, she whispers, “Did you really…?”
I nod. “This should cripple Raizo into doing something stupidly desperate. But this time, he’s gonna have to do it with half the manpower. And a good chunk of his funds missing.”
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
I debate whether or not to tell her. But now’s as good a time to test the waters as any. “We found more slaves there. From the final headcount taken at the safehouse, fifty made it out alive.”
Clara sucks in a sharp breath. “And the others?”
Those images will be eternally seared into memory whether I want them or not. I slowly shake my head and try to swallow back the bile that rises. “We tried. But some of them had long since passed. I tried, baby. I swear?—”
“Shhhh.” She presses a finger to my lips, then kisses me. “I know. And you saved everyone else.” Another kiss, another caress. “You’re a good man. It’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”
My heart swells. “I love you, too. Deeply. Eternally. And plenty enough to bring down Raizo’s empire just so you’ll feel safe again.”
Her face suddenly twists into a mischievous grin. She lightly rubs her hand over my chest and bites the corner of her lip. “Hmm. Well, let’s get you stitched up and bandaged. And then, when we’re in the shower, I’ll get on my knees and show you how truly grateful I am.”
Fucking hell.
I love my life.
31
DEMYEN
“There’s still time to go to the breeder and?—”
“Kill shelter, Dem.”
I sigh. Life didn’t prepare me to lose arguments this often.
Despite Willow’s amazing progress with her new therapist, and her ongoing support from everyone at the compound, Clara and I still can’t shake the feeling that she needs something more. Something that will make her feel safer than seeing armed guards or hearing promises.
Like something that walks on four legs and slobbers a lot.
But my suggestion to get a top-of-the-line animal was shot down with a vengeance. Clara said, “Kill shelter or nothing.” So now, that’s where we’re going.
I begrudgingly see her point when we arrive. It’s not a good place for anyone, dog or human, to be.
The cages are pressed together, with barely enough room for the animals to stretch or walk around. The whole place is dank and dim and vaguely disgusting in a way I can’t put my finger on.
It reminds me too much of Raizo’s factory.
Willow walks between Clara and me as we make our way up to the main desk. “We’d like to adopt a puppy,” Clara explains, turning on her brilliant smile.
The clerk is less than enthusiastic. “Everyone wants a puppy. We only have grown dogs.”
Clara’s smile doesn’t waver once. “We’ll take a dog then.”
He waves a careless hand through the air. “Have a look around. It’s pitbulls, mostly. No one wants ‘em. Too violent and damaged. But you might find something that’ll work.”
