“Even though my presence seems to have brought all this trouble to them?”
“Yes, even so.”
I’m not so sure. I think this could ruin everything.
“Bane. Ara.” The tone of Georgiy’s voice has me leaning up once more. I sniffle loudly, and his hand moves up to brush a tear away.
“Family isn’t convenient, it’s not easy, but it’s strong. And your family is the Costellos. They won’t let you go easily, I promise you that.”
I sniffle once more, and he sighs, pulling me back against his chest, tucking me into him, touching me tenderly. I know how much this is costing him, to be touched like this, to have me lying on top of him, smothering him. But he lets me do it anyway.
He knows how much I need it.
I’ve always been a little bit touch-starved, and he’s so touch-averse, but he gives it to me anyway.
“I love you,” I whisper, and Georgiy hesitates for a moment.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry,” I add, feeling like I need to apologize for how I feel, for how messy I’ve made his organized and neat life.
“Do not be sorry for how you feel.”
I nod and wait—wait for him to reciprocate, but he says nothing. It hurts, a slice of pain through my chest, but when I finally sink into my dreams, I hear it. Low, a whisper.
A promise.
Ya tebya lyublyu, Ara.
22
BANE
The casino that Senator Ruiz led us to is an unassuming warehouse on the outskirts of the Mission District, overlooking the San Francisco Bay. Cars line the streets, the pavement cracked and filled with gum and debris. We have to park several blocks away and walk the rest of the way there. As we move, I feel the tension in the air, just as thick as the saltwater lingering around us.
Last night, falling asleep next to Georgiy helped me calm down, but I still don’t feel right, as if Death is waiting for me around a corner, stealing me. Forcing me back underground.
In the distance, I make out the sound of a foghorn and the bark of a seal.
It reminds me of something—a distant memory, something clawing at me—but before I can pull it from the recesses of my mind, a horn honks and I’m jerked back to the present.
“What are you thinking?” Georgiy asks as we approach the building, the one where I worry something terrible will happen.
“Nothing,” I begin, but then add, “A memory, I think.”
“What brought it on?”
“This place. I know this place.”
“Do you think it has anything to do with the house we were in?”
“No, that’s far enough away. But this…I feel like I know this.”
“We can go.”
“No. I want to stay. I need answers.”
Georgiy looks uncertain, but before he can usher me away, Jax and Kit stop in front of a thick metal door, and Kit reaches out and knocks.
