I look back at Stefan. “Adrik thought it would be good for me.”
Isabella looks around hopefully. “Where is Adrik?”
“I don’t know, honey.” My eyes never leave Stefan’s. “He stayed behind at the house. I don’t know if he followed me. Stefan, you should go check.”
Stefan frowns, but I tilt my head to the window. He understands I’m trying to convey something, so he follows the order. As soon as he reaches the window, I see his shoulders stiffen.
“Cloudy today,” he mutters.
“They moved in about ten minutes ago.”
He turns back to me and his face is pale. “I thought I heard thunder.”
I nod. He knows what I’m saying. And he knows I can’t say more in front of Isabella. The last thing I want is for her to be scared or worried. Adrik sent her away from the compound because he wanted her to be far away from whatever shit might go down today.
I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you both safe.
“Go clean yourself up, Emery,” Stefan says gently. He points to the hallway.
I duck into the small, white bathroom, shocked at how normal it is. I assumed everyone in the Bratva lived in a castle. But this could be any home in any neighborhood in any town in America. There’s a white tub-shower combo, a pedestal sink with a medicine cabinet mirror above it, a simple white toilet.
I grip either side of the sink and sag into my bones. I drop my chin to my chest and breathe. In and out. Nice and slow.
“Everything will be fine,” I whisper. “He’ll call.”
But with every word, I can feel my lungs clenching tighter and tighter. I try to inhale deeply. My shoulders move, but nothing else happens. It’s like my lungs are frozen, refusing to take in oxygen.
I whistle a tiny bit of air into my body and gasp it out. What is happening to me?
I turn the sink on and splash cold water on my face.
Relax. Relax. Relax.I repeat the word like a mantra, like a heartbeat. But it grows faster and faster, beginning to match the rhythm of my own wildly out of control heart.
What if Adrik is dead?
I was right there—I heard it. I heard the moment he died. The moment he was blown sky-high.
Or crushed under the collapsing roof.
Or burnt alive.
Horrible images pop up in my mind like weeds. I want to rip them out, but I can’t breathe. Why can’t I fucking breathe?
My chest burns. I stumble away from the sink and hit the wall opposite. As soon as I do, I slide down to the floor. I pull my legs up to my chest and drop my head between my knees.
The weight on my chest grows lighter, but it’s still there. Still trying to crush me.
Maybe he’s alive, maybe he isn’t. But the baby inside of me—our baby—is alive. Isabella is alive. I’m alive.
That reassures me for the length of one shuddering, desperate breath. Then—
Oh God. Another thought, another nightmare. If Adrik is dead, I have two children to raise now. Two innocent lives to protect.
The thought does more to shock me than the cold water I splashed on my face. I couldn’t take care of Isabella on my own. That’s why I ended up tethered to Malcolm Waters in the first place. It’s why I went to Adrik for help.
And now, he’s gone, and it’s all my fault.
If Yasha hadn’t recognized me, then maybe he wouldn’t have risen up against Adrik. Maybe he wouldn’t have tried to frame him. Maybe Adrik would be married to someone else, a proper Bratva wife who obeyed orders and understood his world and didn’t rain chaos down on his life.
Maybe he'd still be alive.
Water drips on the floor, and I realize all at once that it’s not water; it’s tears. I’m crying.
Tears stream down my face silently. I can breathe now, but the breaths are wracking sobs. Violent gasps that tear out of me and leave pain in their wake. I try to stifle the sound against my forearm. I don’t want Isabella to hear.
But there’s a knock on the door.
I sniffle and swipe at my face. “Sorry. I’m… Just a second.”
“Can I come in?” It’s Stefan.
I sigh. “I’m fine.”
The door opens and Stefan’s face appears in the crack. He takes one look at me and steps into the bathroom. “No, you’re not.”
“Where is Isabella?”
“Playing a game.” He hitches a thumb over his shoulder. “She really likes that tablet.”
I nod. “I usually set screen time limits.”
“Yeah, well, under the circumstances, I decided we had bigger fish to fry.”
“Fine, but you can pay for the therapy if her brain rots,” I sniffle.
Stefan closes the door and steps into the bathroom. The room was already small, but it feels even smaller now that there are two of us in here. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He sits down on the closed toilet lid and looks down at me.
“So what happened?”
“Yasha framed him,” I say, fighting through my quavering voice. “He put Pietro’s dead body in the foyer and called the cops.”
“Fuck.” Stefan squeezes his eyes closed. “What did Adrik do?”
“He made me leave. He told me to get out of there and lie to the police about being held prisoner if I had to. But he stayed behind.”
“Was he arrested?”
I shrug just as another tear slips down my cheek. “I don’t know. He was dragging Pietro down to the dungeon when I left. He was setting the place on fire, but as I was running, there was a huge explosion and smoke and—”
“He hit the self-destruct button.”
I stare at him. “The what?”
Stefan runs a hand through his hair. “Adrik thought it would be smart to have the place rigged with explosives in case the shit ever really hit the fan. And today, I guess it did. Son of a bitch, I can’t believe he was right. He’ll never let me forget about this.”
“But was it—Did he—Could he get out in time?”
Stefan shrugs. “I have no clue. Adrik never told anyone how it worked. That’s the kind of information you don’t want leaking out, especially to enemies. I mean, Rurik was a fuckin’ rat. If he’d known about the explosives, he could have set them off when we were all inside or some shit like that.”
It makes sense that Adrik didn’t tell anyone, but damn it, I wish Stefan knew something. Anything.