Tomorrow we'll figure out how to end Roman once and for all.
But tonight, I just hold the man I love and let myself believe that maybe we'll actually get our happy ending.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Maksim
I wake to dim morning light filtering through a grimy window. Every nerve ending in my body screams at me, reminding me exactly where each bullet entered, where each fist connected, where each wound festers.
But I'm alive.
And Kira is pressed against my good side, her breathing deep and even. Her hand rests on my chest, like even in sleep she needs to confirm I'm still here.
I study her face in the gray light. The bruises are darker today—purple and yellow staining her jaw where Roman hit her. There are cuts I don't remember seeing before, probably from theexplosion. Her hair is a tangled mess, still crusted with blood and debris.
She's never looked more beautiful.
Carefully, moving like an old man, I extract myself from her grip. She stirs but doesn't wake, just curls into the warm spot I left behind.
I pull the IV needle from my arm and leave it hanging.
The bathroom is the next door. The journey feels like climbing Everest. I have to stop twice, leaning against the wall while my vision clears, and my body remembers how to function.
The mirror shows me a monster. Bruises. Cuts. The bandages on my shoulder and side are already seeping red. My face is gaunt, eyes sunken and haunted.
I splash cold water on my face in an attempt to wake myself up.
When I finally make it to the main room, Semyon is already awake, sitting at a tiny table with two chairs. Coffee steams from a chipped mug in front of him.
"You look like death," he says without preamble.
"Feel worse." I lower myself into the other chair with a grunt that might be a scream if I let it be. "But I'm vertical. That's something."
"That's stubbornness." He pushes the coffee toward me. "Drink. You need fluids."
I take the mug with shaking hands and sip. It's bitter and strong and exactly what I need.
“You could have let me pull that IV out the right way,” he said with disgust.
“Bag was empty.”
“I got some antibiotics,” he says. “You need to take them. Don’t think you’re going to tough this out.”
“I'm surprised I’m alive,” I admit.
He snorts. “No shit. You certainly gave dying your best effort. I have no doubt that woman would have chased you into hell and dragged your ass back.”
I smile. “I think you’re right. Where are we?”
“This place is secure—one of my personal safe houses. No one knows about it except me."
I trust him. I know he’s careful. And it’s not like I have options.
"And Roman?"
Semyon's expression darkens. "Regrouping. The mutiny cost him—he lost about forty percent of his men. Those of us who were loyal to your father, who never believed the lies about Kira's family, we finally had a chance to act."
"So, he's wounded."
