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Everyone’s waiting for us as soon as we get off the elevator, but as well-meaning as they all are, I’m fucking mentally exhausted and just want to be alone with Alina. Seeing my face, Roman kisses his sister’s head and then guides his wife back to bed, telling me to let him know when Alina wakes up. He looks just as worn out as I feel, and when Vitaly and Danil follow Roman’s lead, I take Alina back to our room, telling Lev thanks on our way down the stairs.
He smacks my shoulder on the way to his own room. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will,” I tell him, and it’s not until I walk into the bedroom that I realize how much I don’t want to face a bloody, destroyed bathroom. Looking over, I brace myself for the sight, but instead of a kicked-indoor and blood-splattered tiles, there’s a brand-new door and a spotless counter and floor. Stepping closer, I shake my head. I shouldn’t be surprised that my brothers managed to do all this. They wouldn’t have wanted the reminder of what happened waiting for Alina. She’s family, and we’ve always taken care of what’s ours. Now more than ever.
Walking to the bed, I set Alina down and curl up next to her, too exhausted to do anything except pull the covers over us and tighten my arms around her. The sedative is enough to keep her night terrors away, and for once she gets a full night’s sleep, not waking until well after the sun’s come up. As soon as I feel her stir, I kiss her cheek and tell her everything’s okay.
“Matvey?”
“We’re home,malishka. Everything’s fine.”
“What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
She’s quiet for a second before saying, “I found the sketchpad and kind of lost it. I tried to cut the tattoo off and made a giant ass of myself.”
“The sedative must be playing with your memories, baby, because that’s not at all what happened. I was an idiot and left the sketchpad where you could find it, then you saw it and it brought back a ton of memories and embarrassed you. You were upset and scared and angry and you tried to rid yourself of something you hated.” I run a finger lightly beneath her bandage. “You tried to cut him out of you in the only way you could think to do it.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” she whispers. “I need you to know that. I would never do that to you.”
I run my nose behind her ear, breathing her in. “I’m very glad to hear that, but just so you know, I meant what I said. No matter what, you go, I go.”
“I don’t want you to do that. If something happens to me, I want you to try and be happy without me.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “Impossible, and there’s no talking me out of this. I know what life is like without you, and I won’t go through itagain. The only thing that kept me going was the belief that you were still alive. If that had been taken from me, I would’ve put a bullet in my head.”
“Don’t say that.”
The pain in her voice has me kissing her cheek. “You go, I go,” I repeat, because the thought of my heart continuing to beat after hers has stopped is not something I’ll ever accept. There’s no life for me without her. If the past two years have taught me anything, it’s that.
“I love you, Matvey,” she whispers, turning her head so she can kiss the bicep she’s resting on. “Thanks for taking care of me. Dr. Bianchi is probably sick of seeing me.”
“I love you, too, baby, and he’s not. He really likes you. If he weren’t old enough to be your grandpa, I’d be a little jealous.”
She gives a soft laugh and then winces when she holds her hand up to see the bandaged wrist.
“How bad does it hurt? I have some painkillers you can take.”
“It’s sore,” she admits, “but I’ll be fine. I don’t want to take them yet. They’ll just make me sleepy.” Looking across the room, she notices the new door. “Who fixed that?”
“I’m not sure. My guess is Roman called in one of the guys to replace it.”
“Poor guy. He probably thought the life of a criminal would be so exciting, and instead it’s a late night of replacing a bathroom door.”
I laugh and kiss her ear. “It’s not all shooting people and looking badass. The quicker they learn that, the better.”
“You always look badass, though.”
I laugh and roll onto my back, stretching the kinks out. She turns and curls into me, fitting perfectly like she always does. Her fingers run over the tattoo of her name.
“When did you get this?”
“Shortly after you were taken. I had to remind myself why it was important to keep breathing and why my heart had to keep beating, even though it felt like it had been ripped from my chest.”
Her fingers trace over the Russian letters while I run my hand through her hair.
“Promise me something,malishka.”
