“You look like you may need this, Kat.”
“It’s Katie,” I say absently. “I’m Katie now.”
He shakes his head. “Not for much longer, sweetheart. Drink that.”
I look down at the clear liquid, set my mug aside, and drink the contents of his glass. He’s right. I need it.
“Your cousin…does he know where we are?”
“He’s not a danger to you.”
“But we are in danger? Josh and me?”
It’s his turn to swallow the freshly poured vodka in his glass. “I won’t let anything happen to either of you. Now tell me why my son is named after another man.”
I tilt my head to the side because is he for real? “Did you really think I’d name him after you? After what I saw?” I feel my eyebrows creep up my forehead.
“Not so much that, although it would have been nice, but specifically that you named him after another boyfriend.”
“Joshua wasn’t a boyfriend. He was my foster brother and my friend. I told you that already a long time ago. Lev, you ki—” I stop, lower my voice, and glance toward the doorway. Josh sometimes comes out for a glass of water. It’s usually when he’s scared. “After what happened, do you think I wanted to have anything to do with you?”
“I told you, I didn’t hurt Nina. She wasn’t supposed to die.”
“Whether you did or didn’t, back then, I know what I saw.”
“I want to know about Joshua Blake.”
“We were in the same foster home together at one point. Joshua, Cassie, and me. That’s all.”
“Who’s Cassie?”
“Joshua’s younger sister. She was thirteen, I was fifteen, and Joshua was sixteen.” I push my chair back and stand. “And I don’t want to talk about this.”
He catches my wrist. “Sit.”
“I mean it, Lev. I don’t want to talk about it.”
He squeezes my wrist, and I’m reminded again how much bigger than me he is. How much stronger. “I said sit.”
I do.
“How did Joshua die?”
I shift my gaze away.
“How did you end up in juvie?”
I wrap my hands around my lukewarm mug of tea.
“Why were your records sealed?”
I turn to him. “Why don’t you ask your cousin?” I say, standing and slipping out of reach before he can grab me again. “I’m going to bed.”
18
Lev
I’m half tempted to crawl into bed and bury myself inside Kat again, but unfortunately, I have more pressing matters to deal with. Vasily has been blowing my goddamn phone up all day, and I can’t put him off any longer.
Once I hear the springs creak in Kat’s mattress, I step outside into the dark of night and wander just far enough out of earshot. I wouldn’t put it past Kat to sneak around and listen to my conversations at this point, dissecting every word for any excuse she might need to run again. I’m not prepared to let that happen, and I know we still have a lot of shit to figure out. But Vasily’s patience is running out, and so is my time here.
“Levka.” Vasily growls into the phone on the second ring. “What the fuck is going on?”
“I’ve been chasing a lead.” My breath billows into the brisk Colorado air. “I told you that.”
“You’ve ignored my texts. My phone calls.” His rage is palpable through the phone. I don’t have to see him to know the vein in his forehead is pulsating. “I want my fucking answers, and I want them now!”
Something shatters in the background, and I cringe as his voice pierces through my eardrum. Vasily is losing his fucking mind over this. It doesn’t matter what I say to assure him that Kat isn’t a threat, he’s been dead set that he won’t rest until she’s gone.
“Where the fuck is she?” he snarls at me. “I want a location, Lev. And I want her goddamn head on a platter. Do you understand?”
My blood heats, and I grind down my jaw to keep myself from saying something stupid. I owe my uncle a great deal. He raised me. Fed me. Taught me everything he knows. He is blood, but Kat and Josh are my family. I realize it when I glance at the cabin and think of them sleeping soundly inside. Depending on me to protect them.
“I’m putting Andrei on a plane tomorrow,” Vasily barks. “I want a fucking address. Tell me where you are.”
“That isn’t necessary.” I pinch the bridge of my nose to stem the headache starting to take root. “I’m on my way back. I’ll explain everything when I get there. Three days. Just give me three days, Uncle.”
There is a pause on the other line, and I don’t know if he’s going to accept my assurances anymore. He’s grown suspicious of me, and I don’t blame him. I’ve been lying to him all week, and he doesn’t trust me the way he used to.
“Seventy-two hours,” Vasily seethes. “Not a fucking minute more. Don’t disappoint me, Lev.”