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“Yeah. He had to shoot it because it wouldn’t let me go. He was pissed about that. Blamed me for forcing him to kill one of his best fighting dogs. His hand was mangled by the other dog, and he blamed me for that too.”

She let out a small sound of distress. “That’s terrible. It’sdisgustingthat a father would blame his son for something like that. It makes me sick inside.”

Yeah. Me, too.

But at least he’d had enough sense to shoot the dog. If he hadn’t, I probably would have died. Hell, I almostdiddie.

“And the doctors?” she asked gently. “What did they say?”

Heat washed up my neck and into my face, so hot that even my ears burned. Embarrassment quickly followed.

“Therewereno doctors.” Couldn’t she tell I’d never received proper medical treatment? “My father wouldn’t let my mother take me to the hospital. He was afraid the cops would confiscate his dogs. So, he carried me to my room and set me on my bed. My mother sewed my face and scalp back on and forced painkillers down my throat for almost a month. I don’t remember much about that time, except being in so much pain it hurt to move, so I just lay there and kept as still as possible. My mother nursed me back to health as best she could. But as you can see, the results aren’t much to look at.” I waved at my ugly face.

Fresh tears welled in Annika’s eyes, and she blinked rapidly, fighting them back. “It must have broken your mother’s heart that your father wouldn’t take you to a doctor. She sounds like an incredible woman to painstakingly take care of you all by herself.”

My heart pinched at what Mom had done. Staying by my bed day and night for weeks on end. I had vague memories of waking up sobbing and in extreme pain and my mother quickly leaning over me, soothing me with her voice and her gentle touch. Her love and perseverance had been what had kept me alive.

“Yeah.”

Annika’s gaze sharpened at my tone, as if she sensed my guilt and regret for some of the things I’d done. “And where is your family now? Timofey mentioned you were a street kid before you joined the Bratva.”

My heart twisted. I clenched and unclenched my fists. “I tried to run away when I was seventeen, but it didn’t work out that way.” The choices I’d made that day still haunted me.

I’d never told anyone this story.

But I would be leaving soon. And I might never see Annika again. The Popovs might decide I was completely useless to them now and tell me to never come back.

Annika’s gaze filled with questions that I didn’t want to answer. But she’d already accepted me just as I was, scars and all, so why not tell her everything?

“My mother is in a memory-care facility in L.A. for Alzheimer’s patients. She no longer remembers me. She looks like my mom, but she’s…not. It tears me up seeing her like that. I’ve been paying the bill for her care for several years now, because no one else will, and they’ll kick her out of the facility if I don’t.” I swallowed hard. “Mom deserves to be well taken care of, no matter the cost. She saved my life and nursed me back to health when my father would have just as soon let me die. Plus, she’s my mom and I love her.” I shrugged. I would pay my last penny to take care of Mom. I would live in squalor all over again if it meant she received proper care.

Annika blinked rapidly, wiping at another tear. “You’re a good son, Adrik. A goodperson. One of the best I’ve ever met.”

I squirmed uncomfortably. If she knew some of the things I’d done, she would take back that remark. “Not really.”

“So, what happened when you tried to run away?”

I puffed out a breath. “You sure you want to hear this? It’s…not a happy story.”

Annika reached for my hand, linking her fingers through mine. “Yes. But only if youwantto tell me.”

“I do want to tell you,” I whispered. But I was afraid of what she would think of me afterwards.

I sank down onto the edge of my bed and closed my eyes, thinking back to that fateful night when my entire world had fallen apart….

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Adrik

Twelve years ago…

I hesitated at the edge of the driveway, staring back at the house. A dog barked somewhere down the street, breaking the silence of the night. I tensed, jerking my gaze toward the sound. I always tensed up when a dog was near. I couldn’t help it. It had been that way ever since the attack when I was eight.

After a moment, the animal quieted.

And I was again surrounded by silence and the dark night.

All the neighbors were asleep.


Tags: Leslie Georgeson Romance