Another reason to take greater care of my life, I realize. Starting a crime war in Boston isn’t safe for new mothers nor their new babies.
“Our relationship and short engagement has spurned rumors.”
“They, what? Think you already knocked me up?” I must be more tired than I thought because I could almost swear that his cheeks darken at this.
“Yes.” He stares at the carpet as he speaks. “They believe it’s already too late. I worry this isn’t the last move they’ll make against us.”
If I was anyone else in the world, I might be more worried about this prospect. But I’m not. I’ve trained for nearly my whole life to be sharp, observant, agile, and deadly. If we can both stay at the top of our games, we will be fine. Maxim needs me; he needs a wife and a baby and someone who stands a chance at keeping that baby alive—but I need himmore.
I mirror his position, resting my elbows on my knees and leaning toward him. It brings our faces close enough that I can see the light wrinkles around his mouth, probably from toomuch frowning. We lock eyes, his as blue as mine are brown. Some strands of hair have escaped from his gelled style and hang over his forehead. I refrain from moving them, though the thought returns the phantom touch of his fingertips on my face this afternoon.
“If you’re offering a way out to protect me, then forget it. I’m capable, and I’m not going to change my mind,” I tell him. I clasp my fingers together to keep him from seeing the shake, how fragile I really feel. I don’t need him to see, again, how weak I can be.
“I can’t protect your family if I’m dead, Marianna.” He looks away, but I can’t lose him now. Racking my brain for a way to convince him, I say the one thing I’ve wondered about the Orlovs for years.
“How did your father die?”
“What?” Maxim asks, not following the abrupt subject change.
“Tell me.”
Maxim presses his lips into a thin line. I know the story, and he knows that I know it. But I also know the rumors. “He was very sick.”
“Right.” I chew on my bottom lip for a moment then release it from between my teeth. “Now how did he really die?”
Maxim exhales. A line appears between his brows, one I’ve noticed there when he’s thinking or worrying, which seems to be almost all of the time. I want to press my thumb against the spot until it’s smooth.
“I killed him,” Maxim admits.
At the risk of rejection, I reach out and place one of my hands lightly atop of his.
He stills and I take a slow breath. “You did what you had to. I think you would do whatever it takes to protect the people inyour circle. I can’t protect anyone if I’m dead either, which is why you’ll watch my back and I’ll watch yours.”
Maxim finally drags his eyes back to mine from where my skin touches his. After another moment where I believe he’ll fight me further, he nods.
“Fine,” Maxim turns over his hand so that my fingers rest against his palm, then squeezes them. I squeeze back twice.
In two weeks time, we’ll be married.
There’sa gun drop tonight and the load is big enough that I don’t trust any of the underbosses to manage it without fucking something up. Having a night to myself is not worth the risk of losing cargo because someone else is careless.
Usually Leo and I would handle it, and if not Leo, then Sean, but both of them are tied up with other work. We have family rules about not doing mafia shit alone, though, so I made Vanessa let me bring Nate.
I pick him up from his school and he throws his backpack into the trunk before he slides into the car, buckles up, and stows his teacher lanyard in my glove box.
“Lose the tie.”
“What’s wrong with the tie?” he says. There are little space ships on it. I’m sure his students love it.
I don’t dignify the question with an answer, only a dark glance and he tsks before tugging the tie loose and tucking it in the glove box with the lanyard.
“Did you bring a gun?” I ask before he can start telling me things about his job I do not care about.
“To school?”
“Don’t sound so incredulous,yesto school.” Nate has all sorts of weapons these days, now that he knows how to use them. He’s really improved, but I would not tell him this.
“No, Mar, I did not bring a gun to teach thirteen year olds.”
