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Happy? No. Not really.
Relieved? Yes.
Shocked. Scared. And… heavy.
The full weight of responsibility crashed over me like a ton of bricks. I staggered back to the barstool and slid onto it, gripping the countertop for balance.
I was their sole provider now. They didn’t have anyone else. Misha cut right through the red tape, eliminating Crystal from the equation altogether. It didn’t matter that taking them in had been my goal. I thought I still had time to get shit ready, not have them dumped in my lap out of the blue.
“Why?” I breathed, looking at him in utter confusion. “Why now?”
“She hurt you and I promised no one would hurt you again.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
He considered the question for a moment. “I was going to tell you she died in the fire that destroyed the house.”
“Fire? What fire?!”
“The one Valery set after we left.”
All I could do was stare at him, trying to piece together everything that happened the night before. It was still mostly a whirlwind but I remembered hearing him on the phone. Speaking in Russian. That must have been him instructing his henchmen to hide all traces of the crime. “What else have you been lying about?”
He took way too long to answer, even longer than when he fessed up about Crystal. I didn’t like how much nerve he had to build up to spit it all out. The little voice inside me said he was about to reveal the biggest betrayal of all; I started shaking before he even opened his mouth.
“I paid Alonzo off, as you know. And to make sure he knew I was serious, I… cut the head off of one of his men.”
“You… what?!” Staring at him in horror, I slid off the stool again, trying to decide if I was going to lunge over the countertop or make a break for the bathroom to go puke.
His gaze dropped a fraction of an inch before he resumed looking at me. “I believe Axel’s murder was in retaliation for that.”
“You… Fuck!” I slammed my hand into the unforgiving granite. The stinging in my palm did nothing to relieve the explosion inside my chest, so I picked up the stool and hurled it across the penthouse. It clattered into the dining room, knocking into one of the sleek, upholstered chairs. I turned and kicked the second stool, sending it skidding in the opposite direction.
Chest heaving, I went to grab for the third stool, but Misha was there, his hands outstretched.
“Stay the fuck away from me!” I snarled, stumbling backward so I wouldn’t be as tempted to fucking deck him. With the gutted look plastered on his face, I might as well have.
“I’m sorry, Marek. I hope, one day, you can forgive me.”
“Oh yeah? You want me to forgive you? Well,Iwant you to cut off Alonzo’s fucking head and bring it to me, so I can see how ‘sorry’ you are. Maybe then I’ll fucking forgive you.”
I gave him a wide berth as I moved past him, hightailing it to the guest room where the kids and Nadia were. Slipping inside quietly, I thanked God they managed to sleep through all that bullshit. Well, except the dog. She picked her head up when I walked in, yawned, and slinked off the bed.
Locking the door behind me, I slumped against it and parked my ass on the carpet so there was no way Misha could sneak in there.
Nadia stuck her nose under my hand and flipped it up.
I took the hint and stroked her ears, scratching behind them now and again. She leaned into my hands but I couldn’t find any comfort in her presence. Not anymore. She was Misha’s dog, after all. For all I knew, he’d planted her in my apartment—hisapartment—to spy on me too. I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised to learn her collar had microphones or cameras or some shit, or that he’d rigged the whole apartment like an episode of Big Brother.
It didn’t matter, though. As soon as the kids were awake, we were fucking gone. That’s what happened when I tried to rely on anyone—it bit me in the ass and reminded me why I was better off on my own.
38
MISHA
I knewMarek was planning to leave. I knew it the minute I told him the truth. It was what he did, despite my many efforts to undo that part of him.
But that didn’t mean I was going to make it easy.
