“Where’s the guy that normally drives you?” I revisited the irritating topic of conversation from earlier that night.
“Maksim? He flew to LA for some business. I think we could have allies out there in time.”
I nodded, but that wasn’t what I was worried about. Not all her men had been put in their place. They had a look of hunger, of unease, to them that I didn’t like.
“You two can leave.” I shot daggers at her security.
“Oh, Jesus,” Katie muttered and then waved between all of us. “Vladimir and Trent, meet Rome.”
None of us exchanged any niceties.
“We’re driving her home,” Vladimir responded. His eyes held hatred, the kind my monster fed off. I knew the look because I’d had it on my own face before.
“She’s staying with me. I’ll be taking her. You got a problem with that, talk to Maksim. Or is it Ivan you report to?”
He spat on the floor of my club. I stood up, ready to rearrange the look on his face and make him aware that his disrespect wouldn’t be tolerated.
“Vlad, go home,” Katalina said, her tone reprimanding.
“I’m supposed to stay with you to protect—”
“I can protect myself. I’m also the one who requests whether or not I have security. I don’t want it now.”
The man started to protest again.
She cut him off. “I’m not asking you. Don’t disagree with me again.”
His anger was palpable as he and his friend retreated.
There was a shift in the air, something foul was there now. It reeked of betrayal and dishonor.
22
Katie
We spent another week together with no hiccups. The doc came and told me I would be showing soon. He also said the heart sounded strong and gave us pictures of the fetus.
I handed them to Rome and told him to do something with them. We both stared at them like foreign objects, not sure how to handle precious baby memories when we barely had precious memories of our own.
We decided one could go on the fridge and the others we’d put in an Edgar Allen Poe book on one of our shelves for now.
“Is it morbid that we’re putting life into a book about death?” I asked.
“It’s shining light where there’s darkness. It’s poetic if nothing else.” He stared at the books. “Remember when I read to you.”
“Maybe you should read to me again.” I waved him on and we went to the panic room. We lay in that bed like two lovebirds, as if we weren’t mobsters. He rubbed his hand over my stomach at one point and asked, “Do you feel her in there yet?”
“No kicking or anything. But—it sounds weird, I know it sounds so fucking weird—I feel her heart. She’s brighter than us, Rome. She’s so freaking bright and full of joy. I’m going to deliver joy into this world and she’s going to wrap all our hearts up in it.”
He didn’t say anything. He stared at my stomach with love, though. His fingers rubbed back and forth and then he pressed down on her before he lowered his head and kissed my skin. “Made from darkness but pure light. I’m going to be obsessed,” he murmured.
My heart warmed and my mind buried this memory somewhere safe with all the memories I had of my father, of his love, of his own heart. It was where that memory belonged.
I didn’t have a lot of good in me left, but I felt the good spread here, with Rome, talking about our baby together.
I wanted to freeze us in that moment because I knew our lives wouldn’t stay this perfect.
I walked on eggshells for days after. I didn’t want to disrupt our happiness. I tried to stay in, tried not to rock the boat.