Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
And ever since then, I’ve started to understand him. The way he acts like everything rolls off his back. How he pretends to bend with the wind. While really, he’s as anchored to his family as I’ve always been.
“Seamus…” I get on my toes and kiss him lightly.
“Trying to start something here, love?” He smirks and kisses me back. The man can’t help but make a joke.
“I just wanted to say thank you. For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” He touches my cheek, and right then I know. Without a doubt. With more certainty than I’ve ever known anything before.
“I love you.” I kiss him again, harder this time. “I should’ve said that sooner.”
“You didn’t have to. But I love you too. I have for a while now.”
“I know.”
“Was it that obvious?”
“You’re an obsessed crazy person, so yeah.”
“That about sums it up.”
I kiss him a third time, and we hold it there for a few seconds. I don’t care who sees us. Screw the doctors and the nurses. Screw the whole world. There’s only me and Seamus starting something new.
Our own family.
My phone buzzes. That finally interrupts the kiss. I pull away slightly and take it out of my pocket.
My heart nearly stops.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper, staring down at the message.
It’s from an unknown number.
The same number Molchanie’s been using.
“What did she say?”
I show him the screen. “It’s an address. She wants to meet.”
He stares at me for a long time. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but it can’t be good. Slowly though, he nods his head.
“You know what I’m going to say.”
“But I have to show up. She won’t stop unless I do. I think it’ll only get worse.”
“I think I have the worst mother-in-law in the world.”
“You might be the only man alive who can actually make those awful jokes and really get away with it.”
“Very true.” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “We’ll do it together, okay? No more running.”
“Together,” I agree and lean my cheek against his chest.
Chapter 39
Alina
It’s a pizza place.
And not even a closed-down one either.
The lights are all off and the door looks locked, but this is the address Molchanie sent. She told me to show up at three in the morning, probably because she knew the owners wouldn’t be here.
We’re in a decent Manhattan neighborhood, not all that far from my apartment actually. It’s in Morozov territory. I wonder if this place is affiliated or not. Most businesses on this block are.
My hands are trembling slightly as I approach. I can hear Seamus’s light breathing in the earpiece in my ear. The gun in my pocket is warm from gripping it tightly on the way over. He asked about fifty times if I was sure about this, if maybe it’d be better if he went instead, but I told him not to worry. I told him I could handle my own mother.
I’m not sure that’s true.
“You got this, baby,” Seamus whispers. “Just keep going. We’re watching and nearby.”
“It’d be better if you were here.”
“You know how close I am. One step at a time. Remember, she’s your mother. She won’t hurt you.”
“You’ve been saying the opposite for days.”
“I can be wrong. It’s rare, but it happens.”
“Let’s hope you were wrong before and not right now then.” I reach for the metal cover pulled down at the front. “How am I supposed to get in?”
“Test the bottom.”
I reach down and pull the handle. The covering immediately rolls up without any effort. “Huh. Unlocked.”
“I bet the door’s open too.”
Once the cover’s up, I push my way inside. Molchanie left the way open for me. “I can’t talk anymore. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I’ve been in a thousand pizza shops like this one over the years. There’s a counter straight ahead in front of the big ovens where the food gets made and cooked. A TV hangs on the wall to my left, and there are booths on the right. Chairs are stacked in a corner, and a beverage fridge hums quietly. The linoleum is clean but faded from years of shoes. Pictures of famous New Yorkers are hung on the walls alongside Yankee memorabilia.
“Hello?” I call out, feeling silly. I’m pretty sure I’m trespassing right now. “Is anyone in here?”
I drift deeper inside. The bathrooms are straight ahead. But I stop suddenly when a shape pulls itself out of the very last booth.
She was so still that I nearly didn’t notice her. But now that she’s in front of me, I can’t imagine how I could’ve overlooked a woman so stunning.
Molchanie is beautiful.
She’s in her sixties. A little younger than my father. Her hair is still blonde, though shot through with some gray, and pulled into a tight braid. Her eyes are the same as mine, but even deeper blue, a stunning color. Full lips, short nose, sharp jaw, and an athletic figure. For a woman her age, she looks like she’s in incredible shape.