28
KILLIAN
Every time I start to settle into the warm thoughts that life is finally giving me an inch, shit like this happens. As much as I wanted to spend the entire day with Cara letting my imagination run wild about our baby, Blair goes and gets herself blown up, once again ruining all my plans.
At least I suspect she has, it’s difficult to confirm right now.
Standing on Sienna’s porch, a cool wind whips around me as I draw my jacket in a little tighter around my shoulders. I would have called ahead but my rush to leave and my activities last night left my phone with little battery.
Check that,zerobattery as the goodbye screen flashed before my eyes and the device died in the car on the way over.
Typical.
No matter. The front door opens a moment later and I’m greeted by a bright-eyed Sienna who beams when she sees me and immediately drags me into the warmth of her home. It wraps around me like a blanket, chasing away the chill of the early afternoon air.
“Killian!” Sienna exclaims, motioning with a long manicured finger for me to follow. “What brings you here?”
“Sorry, I would have called ahead but my phone died in the car so…” I shrug, the rest of the sentence unimportant as we head through her house to the kitchen where Dante is in the middle of rocking Emilia in his arms.
Sienna hushes me as we step through the doorway and at a glance, Emilia looks almost asleep in her father’s arms. A string pulls at my chest, tightening a fraction at the sight and I can’t tear my eyes away. In a year that could be me.
Don’t get distracted.
Right, focus.
“I’m sorry, something important happened and we need to talk,” I say in hushed tones. Sienna and Dante exchange a look before Dante ducks out of the room to put Emilia down for her nap. Sienna grabs a washcloth and begins to wipe down the marble countertops, cleaning away dirt and crumbs visible only to her eye.
“Sit,” she instructs.
I obey.
“Talk to me.”
“Someone tried to kill me last night.”
Sienna’s smooth glide over the countertop pauses and her eyes flash up to mine, an unspoken question clear.
“With an explosion,” I continue. “Last night I was supposed to meet Blair at a restaurant for dinner to talk about Samuel and finally meet him. Hell, I’d follow her home if I had to. Only… something came up and I didn’t go, but I didn’t cancel either and this morning I woke up and where we were supposed to meet is up in flames.”
“The one on the news?” Sienna asks quietly, squeezing the washcloth in her hands as she leans both elbows onto the countertop. “Shit.”
“Yeah. And bombs are a Russian thing—”
“We can’t jump to conclusions,” Sienna interrupts, and a flash of heat darts up my neck.
“Conclusions? I’d say it’s pretty clear!” I snap. “It’s too much of a coincidence that where she and I were supposed to meet gets turned to ashes on the same night.”
“Sienna’s right,” comes Dante’s voice from behind me. He walks around the counter to face me, his blue shirt rumpled and creased from carrying Emilia. “Jumping to those kinds of accusations so soon after peace has been brokered could shatter all of that.”
“Well I don’t fucking care,” I snap, sliding from my seat. I start to pace over the tiles, gazing down as I track the cracks and lines between each one. “Maybe it’s finally sunk in for Feliks, how much he had to give up in order to attain that peace. Maybe he’s decided that it’s too steep a price to pay.”
“That’s a lot of maybe’s,” Dante warns, “and if that were true, in his weakened position he would know we could wipe him out in seconds. The old Pakhan was the real Russian threat, not Feliks.”
“It’s all one and the same to me,” I mutter darkly.
“No it’s not,” Dante says calmly and I come to a stop, lifting my gaze to him as a deep sigh sweeps through my chest.
“No,” I repeat, “it’s not.”