She remains indecisive for another moment, but when I slowly move to take it from her, she lets go and falls into my arms.
“That’s it, Kit-Kat. You’re free of him now. We both are free. We have each other.”
She turns her face up to me, and when I see the blooming bruise on her cheekbone and swollen lip, I almost regret my decision not to let her kill him.
Except I don’t want her to live with that, nor can I ask her to live with me if I’m the one who shoots him.
Worse than all the bruises is the hurt shining in her eyes. “You left me,” she says through trembling lips.
“Mistake,” I blurt, so incredibly relieved to have her in my arms again. “Big fucking mistake. I was stupid. I never should have walked away.”
She tries to rest her cheek against my chest, then winces and changes sides.
Her father spits some kind of vitriol our way, but I can’t understand him.
Kat’s body shakes against mine. I keep an arm around her as I text the Interpol number Ravil sent me with the hotel and room number and a photo of Leon Poval.
“Let’s get out of here.” I tuck the gun in my waistband at my back and retrieve my jacket from the shopping bag on its side by the door. I take her hand to lead her out of the room.
“His men are at the hangar,” she says when we shut the door behind us.
“I’ll tell Interpol.” I send another text to the number with that information. “I’d rather leave before they get here, though.” I lead her to the elevator, and once we’re inside, I gather her against me again.
“Why was he hurting you, Kat?”
She lifts her chin. “I told him I kidnapped myself.”
“Kat,” I breathe in dismay. “You shouldn’t have.”
Her lips tremble again. “Did you really think I’d give him your name?”
I smooth her hair down where Poval mussed it. “No,” I say softly. “But I would not have blamed you if you had.”
“I could forgive everything, Adrian,” she says, eyes tear-bright again, “except you leaving me.”
My heart lurches and trips then races ahead.
“Never again,” I swear.
“You were supposed to keep me.”
“I am keeping you,” I say immediately. “I’m taking you to Chicago with me. You’ll have your clay studio where you can teach me how to center.”
“Adrian.” She sounds broken.
“I’m sorry, Kateryna. I wanted to make things right, but I fucked that up, too.”
“You’re keeping me?” She’s doing a sulky-weepy thing that soaks me with love.
I scoop her into my arms as the elevator doors open. “Yes. Forever. Are you keeping me?” I stride out.
She tucks her face against my neck, her slender arms looping over my shoulders. “I don’t do the keeping. I’m kept.”
“Right, of course,” I soothe. “Will you be kept by me?” The doorman holds the door open for me and smiles, not seeing Kat’s bruises.
“Can I call you Daddy?”
“No.”
“Master?”
I make a sound of distaste.
“Why not?”
The sound of sirens approaching the building hastens my steps toward a taxi in front.
“Maybe Master,” I concede as I lower her to the ground and open the back door to the cab. “We’ll see.”
She claps her hands together with glee. Her tears have already dried up. “You do it so well.”
I give the driver the name of my hotel and tuck her into my side. “I have asshole down to a T.”
“Wouldn’t that be an A?” I love that she’s getting cute. It’s a sign she’s feeling more like herself. “You’re not an asshole. Okay, sometimes you are, but I like it.”
“I know you do,” I murmur against her temple. “And I like giving you what you like.”
She tips her face up to me and flutters her lashes. “How do you get me so well?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m close with my sister.”
Kat gasps in excitement. “I get to meet Nadia! Oh no–do you think she’ll hate me?”
“No. She told me not to come back until I’d made things right with you.”
“She did?” I love Kat’s expression of awe.
“Da. She somehow guessed that I was madly in love with you and gave it to me straight.”
Kat’s face crumples, and she’s suddenly sobbing.
“Malyshka. Baby. Gospodi, what is it?” I pull her onto my lap and press my lips to her hair.
“Are you? Madly in love with me? Really?” Her wet face nuzzles into my neck.
“Really and truly. Madly, Kit-Kat.”
She sniffs. “But you barely know me. What if we get to Chicago and you change your mind?”
I scoff. “I know you. I know you, Kat. I may not know all the details, but I know the essence. I know you possess all the qualities I don’t. You’re bright and happy and resilient. You remain cheerful in the face of great adversity. You attach quickly and forgive easily. You’re playful and kind and kinky as fuck.” I lower my voice on the last part, so the cab driver won’t hear.