Series: Series by Ker Dukey
Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Excuse me, I need to take this.” He frowns and takes a step back.
“Sure.” I shrug and then shove my hands into the pockets of my slacks as I wait.
“Chief? Oh, okay, yes, sir.” He mumbles down the line and walks toward a dark sedan parked beside Viktor’s car. When he ends the call, he looks back at me and says, “Thanks for the cooperation.”
“No problem.” I slam the door shut and whirl around to find Viktor holding up his phone with a smug expression. “Like I said, the chief owes me a favor or two.” He gives me a playful wink.
I wonder how many favors we’re all going to need to call in before this is all over.
Chapter Twenty-One
Alyona
Where am I? Why does everything hurt so bad?
I wake in my bed, the dizziness and nausea finally fading, leaving my head somewhat clearer. All the craziness that’s happened in the past day or two comes trickling back into the forefront of my mind. Rubbing at my arm where the PICC line has been replaced with a Band-Aid, I wince. I vaguely remember the nurse leaving before sleep took hold. I pick up the glass on the bedside table and take a small swig to wet my dry lips.
The mattress has been cleaned and new bedding put on, but it still feels grim being in the bed where Jeremiah was murdered.
The sun is rising causing a soft glow, illuminating the room in subdued light. Shadows stretch ominously from the corners. This place has a coldness that’s been amplified by what happened here. As soon as I’m able, I’m going to pack our bags and find somewhere else to live.
Deep breathing draws my attention to Rodion’s body lying beside me on the covers. My heart skips a beat at the sight.
He’s so beautiful.
It seems like an odd word for a man whose large frame causes his feet to dangle off the end of the bed, but he truly is beautiful. His brown hair is pushed off his face, curling around his ears. It always looks longer when he leaves it unstyled. His bone structure is one that any model would envy, with dark lashes fanning against his slightly heated cheeks. Although he’s sleeping, the serpent on his neck is always watching and where Z’s snake has green eyes, Rodion’s has blue. His chest is bare, though he still wears slacks and shoes. My eyes greedily roam over the creamy expanse of his skin, with muscles defined even in sleep. I watch as his fingers twitch, the veins in his arms tensing.
Damn, I love those veins.
I search the room, frowning. Where is Zahkar? Maybe he didn’t want to stay. The punch to my gut at that thought hurts worse than any knife wound I’ve received.
Carefully getting out of bed, ensuring I don’t wake Rodion, I tiptoe across the tiled floor to use the bathroom. Zahkar’s scent clings to me, and I realize I’m still wearing his shirt.
I decide to forgo flushing to minimize noise, then I rinse my hands and brush my teeth to get rid of my morning breath.
After sneaking back across the bedroom, I pull a pair of sleep shorts from the dresser and slip them on before making my way to Roza’s bedroom. She’s usually woken for a bottle by now—a habit I know we need to break at this age, but I can’t seem to bring myself to take that from her.
Why is she so quiet?
Her door is slightly ajar, and as I peer inside, a knot of tension tightens in my stomach. Zahkar stands over her crib, his tall figure casting a gentle shadow over her.
Roza gazes up at him, her big, bright eyes sparkling with delight as she clutches a bottle in her mouth. Her small legs kick playfully, and she stretches one tiny hand toward him, eager and trusting. The sight fills my eyes with tears. Guilt claws at my conscience.
“She was fussing,” he says, breaking the silence. “I made her a bottle.”
“Thank you.” I move further into the room to stand beside him, watching our child.
I never thought I’d ever get this moment.
“She looks like me.” Pain laces his words, and my insides flip.
“I know,” I say, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
“When you left it felt like the world stopped turning. Everything just stilled.”
Thud.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my heart aching at the weight of my betrayal hanging between us.
He continues, ignoring my apology. “I thought I was standing still, but I wasn’t.” He closes his eyes briefly. “I was waiting. Waiting for you to return to me, to us. Waiting to be whole again.”
God, his words hurt so much.
“Yuri would never let us be together,” I remind him, hating that man with every ounce of my being.
He turns his eyes on me and I want to whimper and hide from the hurt and fire within them. “You should have given us the chance to deal with Yuri if he ever came. But you didn’t. Do you know how hard it was for me to allow myself to want to keep you? I chose to let you in, and you chose to leave me.”