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I shake my head. “My phone is upstairs on the charger.”

My eyes drop to the clothes she’s wearing—a gown that’s too big, revealing a ton of cleavage, silver heels, and Pavel’s jacket. She clutches the fabric of the blazer and whips it closed.

“It’s all they had,” she says in a hoarse voice. “Not much for sizes.”

“Are you okay?” I touch her face, noticing the way she flinches. “Did they hurt you?”

She licks her lips and exhales shakily. “I’ll be okay.”

“Willow…”

“Liya.” She grabs my hand. “I’m safe now. Okay?”

I study her eyes, noticing the caution suddenly apparent in her irises. God, the things she must have seen—the things she must haveexperienced.

If someone put a damn finger on any part of her…

I sigh. “All right,” I whisper. “As long as you’re okay.”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. Let’s get you something to eat.”

Pavel bounces from his post and heads for the stairs. “I’ll get some clothes.”

I ignore Pavel and rub Willow’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Liya. It’s not your fault.”

“Technically…”

She gives me a weak grin. “You havenothingto apologize for. I volunteered to take Zoya to New Jersey.”

“You did. You’re right.”

She gives me a half-hearted wink. “I’m always right.”

And just like that, it’s us again. It’s my best friend standing in front of me. It’s me holding her hand and feeling like we’re closer than ever. I lead her into the kitchen and get her settled at the table. When I start preparing tea, Pavel returns with clothes.

Willow takes them gratefully. “Be right back.”

I nod, feeling uneasy about her drifting out of sight. Making tea distracts me enough to keep my brain busy.

But it does nothing to calm my racing heart.

“How did it go?” I ask Pavel. “Did anyone put up a fight?”

He loosens his tie. “Not for long.”

“You seem mostly…” I eye him carefully and then turn to the fridge. “Uninjured.”

“You forget I’m a professional.”

A snappy response enters my brain. I almost blurt it out until Willow walks back into the room. She’s wearing one of my old muscle T-shirts, a sports bra, and a pair of jean shorts. She would look normal if she didn’t look so shaken.

I sigh while preparing a few sandwiches. “Mayo, mustard, ketchup?”

“All of the above.”


Tags: Brook Wilder Suvorov Bratva Erotic