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1
CLARA
“Clara…”
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
“Clara.”
A hand presses to my chest. It pulls me into the moment, out of the blurry fog I’m swimming in.
Demyen’s eyes meet mine.
I’m somewhere… Not the squad car. No, I’m in someone else’s car.
Not a car. Something bigger. An SUV, I think.
He presses his hand to my chest again and rests his brow on mine. I realize I’m sitting in the passenger seat and he’s leaning over the center console. At some point, he cut the tie around my wrists. They still sting a bit, but I’m free to move around.
“Breathe with me. In… out…”
I breathe with him. Slow, steady. When I start to spiral, he presses again.
In… out…
In… out…
When I’m finally not hyperventilating myself unconscious, he kisses my forehead.
“Where are we?” I croak. Wherever it is, it’s cool and dark and kinda comforting.
“The Meridian.” Demyen sits back in his own seat. “Parking garage.”
I feel exhausted. So I slump in my seat and stare out at the mostly-empty garage. “What happened?”
“I saved your ass. Again.”
I should probably glare at him. I don’t have the energy to. “You were keeping tabs on me?” I scrunch my face and sigh. “Ugh. The guy with the newspaper. He was so obvious.”
Demyen looks at me in disgust, like he’s offended I’d ever even dream he’d be that unsubtle. “No. Gladys. The waitress.”
The waitress. I laugh. It’s weak and raspy, but I have to. Of course he’d have someone watching me, just in case I fucked up and shit went south. I just didn’t expect the sweet lady in the pink dress and perfect curls to be a Bratva informant.
It’s only a few seconds before my laughter turns into tears. I start sobbing. I’m sobbing, I’m shaking, and I hear Demyen jump outof the SUV and slam his door shut. I don’t blame him—I hate how I am, too.
But then my door opens and he’s right there, scooping me up into his arms. He kicks the door shut and carries me through the parking garage into a quiet hallway between the dock doors and a side entrance to the hotel.
I know I shouldn’t feel soothed and comforted in his arms. I know it’s a dangerous way to get attached to someone who does not—and will not and physicallycannot—feel the same way about me.
But I can’t help that I do.
My shaking stops almost immediately. My sobs quiet down until I’m only sniffling. His warmth, his steadiness, his heart beating in his chest… all of it, all ofhim, wraps around me like a security blanket.
“You’ll have to walk from here.” Demyen carefully sets me down at the double doors leading into the hotel. “You good?”
