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And the relaxed satisfaction in her eyes fills me with a different kind of warmth, a pleasure that comes from knowing I made her feel good. With a last passionate kiss, I ease out of her and roll onto the mattress beside her.
Humming contentedly, Dani snuggles close, resting her head on my shoulder as she slings a leg across my torso. Pulling her firmly to my side, I take a moment to appreciate the strength of her heartbeat pounding against the back of her ribs and into my arm.
I would do anything to keep it that way, beating strong and healthily. I can’t let Mikhail get his hands on her. I’m not sure I would survive if anything were to happen to Dani.
No, this conflict might be escalating, but I refuse to let him near her. He won’t do to her what he did to those poor women he took hostage.
Dani’s mine, now and always, and I’ll protect her until the day I die.
12
DANI
My leg bounces nervously as I sit on the steps before the fountain of Whitman Park, watching the water cascade back into the pool it shoots from. I’m pleasantly surprised to find how late they’ve kept the fountain on this year.
But I have bigger things on my mind as I chew my thumbnail nervously. Ben’s agreed to meet me so we can talk, and my stress levels are dialed up to ten as I think about exactly what I want to say to him.
Get a grip. Stop being such an idiot. Those are the two lines I would like to say. But after we spoke last time, I suspect this is going to be one of the hardest conversations I ever have with my brother.
In truth, I’m scared for him. I don’t understand how he can fail to see the dangerous path he’s walking down. Guns? Bar fights? Violence? It’s not at all like him. And what scares me most is how quickly he seems to be spiraling down this track.
Mikhail has his hooks in deep, and I’m not sure anything I say will be able to retrieve my brother. He might just have to learn the hard way. But with Pyotr potentially on the other end of that very serious lesson, I don’t want to see either of them face the other head-on.
Someday, Ben will come to regret it. If I know anything about my brother, it’s that.
He can be reckless and stupid, and impulsive. But he cares.
Pulling out my phone, I glance to see if I’ve missed any messages from him. He’s late, and I wonder if he’s changed his mind. Decided not to come. In our texts yesterday, he seemed willing enough, but I’m finding it harder to gauge my brother by the day.
“Hey, Dani.”
My head whips around at the familiar sound of Ben’s voice, and relief floods me to see that he looks good—aside from that stupid buzz cut that makes him look like he’s trying to be tuff.
Standing to greet him, I watch as he closes the space between us. “Hey, Bennie.” I give him a small smile as a peace offering. “You look good.”
“Am I supposed to look otherwise?” he counters, his walls flying up in an instant as he gets defensive.
Thrown off by the sudden shift in his tone, I draw back. “N-No,” I say hesitantly, my shoulders tensing as I debate whether or not I should try and hug him.
He seems less than willing to give me a physical sign of affection like he always used to.
“You wanted to talk?” he presses, plopping down on the steps.
I join him, forgoing the hug as I wrap my arms around my jean-clad knees. “How have you been?” I ask casually, trying to break the ice and show him I’m not here to fight.
“Good. Better than good, actually. Fan-fucking-tastic, I feel like I’m making a fucking difference for the first time in my life.”
“That’s good,” I say carefully, thrown off by his casually vulgar language. He’s never been much of a cusser.
“But I’m sure that’s not why you texted me, is it?” he asks, leaning back on his palms as he studies me carefully. His blue eyes are icy and cold, the usual kind warmth drained from them as he tries to unearth my underlying motivation.
“I’m not allowed to just check in and see how you’re doing?” I ask, mildly hurt by his suspicion, even if he’s right.
“No fucking way. You only give a shit about my life when you need something or when I come to you,” he says bluntly, shrugging as if this apparently well-known fact doesn’t bother him.
“Hey, that’s not true,” I insist, leaning my elbows onto my knees. “I always care about you.” A pang cuts through my chest that he would even suggest I don’t care. If I care about anyone in my life, it’s my big brother. He means the world to me.
“Okay, Dani,” he says, his tone callous, and I find myself close to tears, though we haven’t even broached the topic I knew would be hard to discuss. “So, what? Did Mom and Dad put you up to this? Tell you to check in on me?”
