“He’s the one being stubborn.”
“Anton,” I say patiently, “he’s hurting. He told me something deeply personal and I broke his heart.”
“He should have expected that.”
“Sometimes, you hope,” I whisper. “Even when hoping is naïve.”
It’s not lost on me how much that advice applies to my own situation.
He places his hand at the back of my neck and I take a deep breath. “What can I do?” he asks in that delicious rumble of his.
I give him a soft smile. “You’re really willing to help me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because… you’re not exactly a fan of Chris.”
“He cares about you,” Anton says grudgingly. “I can’t fault him for that.”
My heart flutters. No one has ever made me feel quite so cherished. Anton says he’s a violent man in a violent world, and if you look at him from some angles, maybe he is.
But when you see him the way I do, all you see is love.
“I do need something from you,” I say cautiously. I already know he’s not going to like this plan, but I have to try. “Let me go and speak to him. I won’t take long and—”
“No.”
“Wait, you didn’t even—”
“Jessa, you realize that you nearly died yesterday, right?” he demands. “That bitch came within seconds of actually killing you and the baby. She almost won.”
I notice he doesn’t include himself in the hit list. I’m not sure if that’s because he’s so confident in his own invincibility or because he just doesn’t care about whether he lives or dies.
“I know, and I’m not asking to go by myself. You assigned me a security team, didn’t you?”
“I will not trust any of them with your life unnecessarily. They’re all good men, they’re all capable. But she just came too close yesterday.”
“I can’t hide from her forever.”
“Not forever. Just until I strangle the life out of her.” He sighs and knuckles at his tired eyes. “Why do you need to do this now?”
“Because he’s my best friend. If Lev or Yulian refused to talk to you, wouldn’t you go to them and try and explain things?"
“Fuck no. They’d come to me.”
I roll my eyes. “Please, Anton?”
“If you need to talk to him so badly, text him.”
“I did. He’s not responding to any of them. And there are some things that I can’t convey in a text message. In any case, he deserves more than that. He deserves a face to face conversation.”
“It doesn’t seem like he wants one.”
“I would ask him to come here, but I know he won’t,” I implore. I put my hand on his arm. “I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t do this.”
He sighs and groans at the same time. “Fuck.”
“Is that a yes?”