Page List


Font:  

Artem

Three hours.

In the end, that’s all it took. That’s how long I needed to close the final distance.

It was surprisingly easy.

Once I’d gotten to the surprisingly pretty beach side town, I’d made some inquiries and checked in at local pubs and cafes.

The fourth time I’d thrown the lure into the water, I’d gotten a bite. The owner of a café had pointed me in the direction of a day care center in the heart of the town.

I’d walked in at seven in the evening and asked to speak to someone in charge. A short conversation later and the blonde behind the receptionist’s desk had given me an address.

That address belonged to a small, subsidized apartment complex not too far away.

I park my car on the street, just in case Esme is watching through the window.

Even from a distance, it looks shabby at best. It turns my stomach to know that my wife and son are living here.

Apartment three-fourteen. That’s what the girl told me.

There are no elevators, so I take the stairs up to the third floor and I walk down until I hit the right place. The whole place smells like disinfectant, cigarette smoke, and the salt of the ocean.

There is a window set right next to the door, but the curtains are drawn so I can’t see inside. I cover the peephole with one hand.

Then I take a deep breath and knock twice. I knock softly, calmly, even though every nerve ending in my body is screaming to kick the door in and drag her out of here at once.

No response.

I wait, but I can’t hear a thing from inside.

Is she here?

The woman at the day care told me that Esme’s hours were nine to six, which means she would have left at least two hours ago.

I knock again, this time a little louder than before.

The wait is killing me. I feel like I’m going to choke through the silence.

Just when I’m contemplating knocking down the door and forcing my way in, I hear soft footsteps. I keep my palm pressed firmly against the peephole.

“Who is it?”

I feel my body go still with recognition at that soft lilt.

Esme.

I’d finally found her.

“Who is it?” she calls again. I can hear the reluctance to answer in her tone.

I don’t answer but I knock again. I hear the bolt being undone and a second later, the door opens a crack, chain rattling.

Two large hazel-gold eyes look right at me.

Then she gasps.

She slams the door shut at once. I freeze for a moment at the sheer fucking audacity. As if a door will keep me away from my wife and son.


Tags: Nicole Fox Kovalyov Bratva Erotic