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“Yeah, sure.”
I darted after him, closing the bedroom door behind me and locking it for safe measure. “What the fuck?!”
“It’s a long story,” he said with a sigh, ripping his tie off and throwing it on top of his bloody suit jacket on the dresser. “The gist of it is, Sergei knows about us. Dimitri killed Hayden, trying to get me to confess to being queer.”
“Hayden’s dead?!” I gaped at him.
Misha nodded, unbuttoning his shirt and adding it to the pile.
“So, now what? We run? We run, right? That’s the obvious solution.”
“No, we don’t run. It’ll be fine.”
“Fine?! You said if they found out, they’d kill you! And what about me? You said Sergei knows about ‘us.’ Pretty sure that means I’m catching the next bullet.”
“I have it all in hand.” He walked over to me and gripped my biceps. “But I need your help.”
“Me?” I hated that I kind of squeaked the word but I was still reeling from the info bomb he just dropped and now he neededmyhelp? “What the fuck canIdo?”
“You need to walk me through every step of the goddamn Nirvana distribution process. No matter how small or insignificant it seems. I’m not fucking around anymore, Marek. Tell me everything you know.”
“Sergei is on to us and you’re worried about busting a drug ring for him?!” Was this happening? We were having the same conversation? Because it seemed like we’d gotten mixed up along the way. Personally, I blamed him and all of the languages he knew because none of them were apparently conveying the urgency of the situation.
“I’m worried about the long game,” Misha answered.
I sighed. It seemed like we had bigger fish to fry but I wasn’t going to argue with him anymore. “Yeah. Fuck it. Fine. Let me get the kids squared away. I don’t want them hearing any of this.”
He nodded. “I’m going to shower. Meet me in my office when you’re ready.”
I turned to go but he caught me by the hand. “Hey. I promise you, you’re safe. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or the children.”
Two thoughts warred in my head—the first screaming that he was a liar, telling me I needed to get the hell out of Dodge ASAP. But the second thought told the first to shut the fuck up and trust him. His life was on the line just as much as mine was—if not more. I highly doubted he’d be sticking around if he couldn’t handle the heat headed our way, although I had no idea what Nirvana had to do with any of it.
I gave him a stilted nod and ducked out.
“Is Misha eating?” Bri asked when I returned to the kitchen, mixing the salad ingredients together in a bowl.
“Uh, no. I don’t think he’s hungry. You guys good?”
“Where are you going?” Ezra asked with a pout. “You said you’d watch a movie with us!”
“Nowhere. I just have to talk to Misha about work stuff, so we’ll be in his office.”
“Can I watch YouTube?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Ezra grabbed his plate from the countertop and turned to go.
“Whoa! I don’t think so.” I caught him by the shoulders and redirected him back to the counter. “Not with food or open drinks. Eat and then you can watch whatever you want.”
“Aw, man.”
“Can I talk to you?” Bri asked quietly.
I threw a glance down the hallway before nodding. “Yeah. What’s up?”
We drifted to the refrigerator under the pretense of looking for salad dressing, which was apparently nonexistent in Misha’s fridge. I grabbed a bottle of balsamic vinegar and olive oil out of the pantry instead. Ezra wouldn’t eat it, or anything green for that matter, but Bri would.
