Too late.
The deep rumble meant Ivan was awake.
I hurried after them but paused at the threshold. Ivan leaned over the edge of his bed, staring at where Brady was currently trying to wriggle underneath.
“I’m so sorry!” I rushed to say.
Ivan braced his hands on the mattress and pushed up. His shoulders flexed and strained while blankets tangled around his lower half. My mouth went dry at the sight. A tingle of electricity buzzed under my skin. The half sleepy mobster, hair pushed back in a wild mane, watched me with a lazy smile.
Brady disappeared farther under the bed, broom jabbing into the dark.
“Caspian?” Ivan was smirking.
I crouched, trying to see under the frame. It was too dark. “His new buddy,” I explained.
“A mouse.”
“Achipmunk, tatko!” Brady corrected from somewhere under the king size bedframe.
I lifted my gaze and gave Ivan a helpless shrug. This was his son. He’d better get used to wild animals becoming part of his life.
No, not get used to it.
“I don’t know how we’re going to catch it,” I said helplessly. “We once had a sparrow live with us for over a week because we couldn’t get it outside.”
Ivan scrubbed a hand over his face. “I take it that—” he made a slice across his throat “—is out of the question.”
“Yes!” I hissed. “Unless you can do it without him—” I stabbed a finger at the boots, the only part of Brady still visible “—knowing.”
Ivan gave me a nod. “I’ll help him.”
It took the rest of the day to catch the shivering woodland creature. When Ivan finally helped Brady release it outside, I was dead with exhaustion. For once, it was nice not to be the badguy. I tried not to let the fact that having a partner to navigate the situation with was a major relief. Ivan carefully explained to Brady that city chipmunks were better off outside. He handled the argument with tact and care. I silently blessed him. There had been little support in matters like this in Carrington, where my cousins preferred to egg Brady on and help him with his antics. Ivan had stayed firm under the protests, and when they finally took the bucket and rodent outside, Brady was convinced that it was the right thing to do.
Chapter 11 – Poppy
Asqueal followed by the ripping of plastic sounded through the too thin walls. I jolted awake, heart pounding wildly. The rough laugh from the mob boss didn’t cut off the soft jabbering of my son.
I sank back into the thin, ancient mattress. My fingers reached for my throat, rubbing along the outside. There was a swollen lump. The lymph node was tender. Inside, it was scratchy and raw.
Crap.
That was what came of having the last three nights of interrupted sleep only to wake at an ungodly early hour. Ivan slept most of the day and left late in the evening, going to only the Holy Mother knew where. Alone in this rundown house, every noise outside was magnified. It didn’t matter that the Bulgarians ran this turf. A few streets over, there’d been the distinct sound of gunfire.
It rang out every night. Sometimes more than once.
I wouldn’t sleep a wink for hours after that.
Gazing at the long crack running through the ceiling, I groaned. Then choked and coughed from the phlegm beginning to gather back there.
This was the last place I wanted to raise my son. It wasn’t the poverty that bothered me. We were used to simple living. I’d become a “crunchy” mom, taking to homesteading what we needed. It might be quaint, but it was perfect. And clean. Not like this sty. No, this man—this beast!—was a pig. His men were worse. And they lived in a rough neighborhood. The streets beyond weren’t any better.
This was no place to raise a child.
The mob—I shuddered.
I fled this life once.I can do it again.
My plans were solid. Pushing myself up, I went for my clothes.Garh!My nose was running like a faucet now that I was upright. I sniffed, and my throat protested. Just great. Exactly what I needed.
