“I’m safe, little mouse. I’m more worried about you.” There was shuffling of papers on the other end. “You’re moving, not staying in one place too long? You have enough money, enough food?” There was this tightness in her voice that set me on edge.
“Yes, I keep moving. I’m too afraid to stay in one spot for too long. And money and food are fine.” I didn’t tell her I was stretching out the dollars because I was terrified of it running out and of not knowing what to do. I could get a job, sure. I had a new identity, but that defeated the purpose of moving for survival.
“Good, little mouse. Very good.” She sounded… off.
“Marina, what’s going on? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”
She exhaled slowly, and there was a long pause before she started speaking again. “I don’t know much, but I’ve heard the other staff whispering, the rumors that Maximillian had gone rogue when he slaughtered everyone. Many other members in the organization followed suit. But he’s gone missing, and they are searching for him.”
This was good news. If Maximillian went rogue, that meant he killed my father and all those others on his own, without orders. He went against the Russian mob, and the price for betrayal was in the currency of blood. They’d go after him. They’d kill him. But the way she said that last part had my entire body tightening, because I knew there was more.
It wasn’t as good as it sounded.
“He’s gone missing, but not for the reasons we all need him to be.”
She meant death.
There was another long pause, and I held my breath as I waited for her to finish.
“The rumor is he’s gone to America, Nadja. I don’t know if he’s gone there to hide, or to finish what he started with your father… meaning taking out Petrov’s daughter.”
Or worse, I thought, finishing for her when I heard her stutter on that last word.
I remembered the vile things Maximillian said to me, the filthy, obscene things he’d do to me once we were married. He had this sick obsession for me that started well before I’d been with Frankie. And once back in Russia, once the wedding had been set and he knew I’d be his, it had only grown.
“I just don’t know the answers, but I know it’s not safe, not now more than ever.”
I thought about Frankie, how I had to come clean with this to him. He had to know what he was getting himself into. He said he’d be by my side always, but when facing a psycho like Maximillian… did it extend that far? Could I allow him to be hurt because of me?
God, never.
He was the love of my life, and for the first time since I’d been back, since we’d been reunited, I had so much regret coming here. I told myself I should have stayed away, not for me, not for my heart, but because he deserved better than a broken girl who brought death to his doorstep.
21
Frankie
“Fuck,” I pulled my hand away from the skillet faster than I thought humanly possible and shook it like that was going to make the pain suddenly fucking vanish.
I couldn’t remember the last time I burned myself while cooking; then again, I hadn’t actually cooked anything in God knew how long. Yet here I was, trying to make breakfast for Nadja like the world we currently lived in was anywhere near normal.
But I wanted things to be normal, not for me but for her. She deserved that and so much more. Hell, Nadja deserves someone better than the likes of me, a professional fucking thief.
But I’d try to be a good man. I’d try so damn hard for her if that’s what it took.
She hadn’t had normalcy in so long, and it broke my fucking heart. So here I was cooking eggs and bacon, and burning the fuck out of toast, which I didn’t even know was possible. I was even doing the whole fresh-squeezed orange juice routine—seeds complimentary, because my hands were too big and my grip too tight in the little orange fuckers.
I’d gotten up before the sun even rose and had planned on going to the twenty-four-hour grocery store outside town, but I was too paranoid to leave her, too possessive. So I’d done the whole delivery route, something I’d never done before and didn’t even feel comfortable with. I didn’t like strangers at my place, but this was all for Nadja. I wanted things to be as perfect as they could be for her.
I had this picture in my head of how this would all play out. The breakfast would be perfect and sitting on the table when she woke up. She’d come out of the room looking sexy and sleepy as hell. I’d watch her eat, feeling pride and possessiveness knowing I was the one who provided for her, who nourished her and kept her safe, made her happy.