Midnight Lies (Tasarov Bratva 2)

EMERY

“It’s officially dark. Time to go.” I stand up for the third time in the last fifteen minutes.

Stefan glances through the front window. "It's barely dusk. Sit back down. We aren't going anywhere."

We agreed that when full dark set in, we’d go look for Adrik. More specifically, Stefan said he would send out a search party. But I plan to be part of it. No matter what he says.

"You can't keep me here."

Stefan arches a brow and says nothing else. He doesn't need to. We both know he is more than capable of keeping me here against my will. He learned how to do it from the best, after all.

"How can you just sit here and twiddle your thumbs?" I snap. "He's your best friend! You should care that he might be… that he might be…"

I trail off. I can't bring myself to even speak the possibility.

Adrik can't be dead. It would be like the sun burning out. Everything else would die with it. If Adrik was dead, I'd know. I'd feel it in my bones.

Stefan sighs. "He's also my boss. And my boss ordered me to watch after his stubborn wife and his daughter. To keep you from doing anything stupid. So that is what I'm going to do."

“Are you really—” I grimace in frustration. “Come on, Stefan.”

“What?”

“You’re really going to just sit here and wait?”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do.” His eyes remain fixed out the window.

Isabella has been dozing in her chair in front of the television for the last twenty minutes. Usually, I would have moved her to her bed by now, but I don’t want to settle in here. I don’t want to stay here. I want to be out there, looking for Adrik.

“Goddammit,” I growl. “What is with all of you Bratva men and your stubborn, head-up-your-ass refusal to change plans? I mean, sure, Adrik told you to stay here with Isabella. Then he sent me here. But don’t you think sometime between then and the compound blowing up that he might have changed his mind?”

“He would have called,” Stefan says, stone-faced. I guess my speech didn’t move him.

“He could be dead!” I screech.

The words flop like dying fish between us. Stefan stares at me in disgust. Like, if Adrik is dead, it will be all my fault. I’m the one who said it first, ergo the blame is on me.

My chin wobbles and I cross my arms. “I’m just speaking the truth. He might be dead, you know? We might be sitting here waiting for a man who is currently flat as a pancake under a mountain of cinder blocks from his own damn house. Or a man who has two dozen bullet holes in him courtesy of the friendly boys in blue. He. Might. Be. Dead," I say, enunciating every word.

Stefan opens his mouth to respond. But the next voice I hear isn’t his.

“Reports of my demise are greatly exaggerated.”

I whip around and look towards the kitchen. It takes my eyes a second to understand what the rest of my body already knows.

Then I’m moving. My heart is thundering in my chest, my feet are carrying me across the room, tears are burning the backs of my eyes, and then my arms are wrapped around Adrik’s neck before my mind can even understand what is happening.

“You’re not dead,” I breathe into him.

He chuckles. I feel the rough rumble of it in his chest. His voice is raspy and he reeks of smoke. “No, I’m not.”

I pull away from him. “What happened to you? Are you okay? Where have you been?”

With each successive question, the frustration and despair and hopelessness I’ve been feeling all afternoon bubbles to the surface. By the end, I’m slapping his arm.

“Why didn’t you call?” I gasp, choking back a sob. “We were worried. I was terrified. I thought—”

“You thought I was dead,” he says, looking disappointed. “You mentioned that part. Do you still not trust me?”

“Of course I trust you. But you aren’t a superhero.”

Stefan whistles. “The man comes back from the dead for you, and you insult him? That’s cold.”

I glare back at him, but Stefan gives Adrik a grin over my head. Classic men, downplaying the seriousness of one literally life-or-death situation after another.

“The house collapsed,” I remind him, just in case he’s forgotten. “There was a fire and an explosion and I had no idea if you were inside.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Obviously not!” I say, gesturing to him in front of me. “But I didn’t know that. Stefan didn’t know that. You could have called.”

He shakes his head. “I was chasing Yasha.”

“Wait, what? But you said he was long gone. That he took off.”

“I was wrong,” Adrik replies. “I realized after you left that Yasha would probably be watching the compound. He'd want to know what happened."

Stefan sighs. “The eagle’s nest.”

I have no idea what that means, but it doesn't matter. There are more important matters at hand. I grab Adrik again, running my hands down his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where’s Yasha?”

Adrik’s expression turns to stone. Whatever happened, he isn’t happy about it. That’s for sure.

“He’s gone,” he grits out.

“But he didn’t win,” Stefan chimes in. “He pulled a serious move today, and we dodged it.”

Adrik looks past me to the window. “For now. Has anyone been here yet? The police or detectives?”

Stefan and I both shake our heads.

“Well, they will be,” Adrik growls. “We can’t stay here.”

“We can’t?” I catch a hint of disappointment in my voice. Just a few minutes ago, I wanted nothing more than to leave this house. But now that Adrik is here, I want to shutter the windows, bolt the doors, and hunker down forever.

“Stefan is my closest associate. It helps that he lives off of the property, so it might take the police a little bit more time to track him down. But not much. They’ll be here soon. And if they find me—find us—together,” he says, pointing to me, “it won’t be good.”

"But we're married."

"Which makes you an accomplice. You, too," he says, jerking his chin at Stefan.

Stefan nods. "You lovebirds have some spousal privilege and don't have to testify against each other, but unless you want to make this marriage a threeway, I'm a weak link. You better scram."

I glance at Isabella. She’s still asleep in her chair, her head tilted to the side.

"Pack up her stuff," Adrik says. "I'll find us a place to stay."

He turns to the kitchen. My immediate instinct is to worry I won't see him again. Every time we walk away from each other, I'm worried it might be the last time. I don’t want that feeling for myself, and I damn sure don't want it for Isabella.

"Go," Stefan mumbles, nudging me. "Adrik looks like shit. He needs you to just obey tonight."

I nod reluctantly and pad down the hallway to pack the few things Isabella brought with her.

Five minutes later, I come back into the living room. Adrik is hanging Stefan an ancient flip phone.

"Are we going back to the Stone Ages so Yasha can't trace us?" I ask.

Adrik hands me another one of the same. "Burners. All of them are programmed with each other's numbers. This is the circle of people we can trust right now."

"Exclusive club," Stefan says, studying the phone for a second before laying it on the coffee table.

“Better not do anything to lose your membership,” Adrik snaps, eying the phone warily.

Stefan snags it and shoves it in his back pocket. “Don’t worry. I’ve got everything under control. You just worry about where you’re going to stay tonight.”

“We can’t go back to the cabin?” I ask.

Adrik shakes his head. “Yasha knows about it. The police will, too. But I found us a place.”

“Where?”

He shrugs. “I called in a favor. We’re staying in a penthouse in the city.”