“Okay.”
“Did you suggest it to my uncle?”
I frowned at him. “Suggest what?”
“Suggest that he give Anya a chance at a different life somewhere else or to stay. Like he’d offered for you.”
I shook my head. “You are putting way too much confidence in my ability to tell your uncle to do anything.”
Except… maybe how I would like him to make love to me.Mikhail was always accommodating inthatdepartment. I hid a sly smile at the naughty thoughts.
“I beg to differ.” Leaning over to stage-whisper, he said, “He would do anything you ask of him.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Ha.”
“You’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, Claire.”
That was how I felt. I was that eager to appease him and please him. But perhaps it was mutual.
“No, I didn’t suggest that. And I’m very touched that he could be that selfless where she is concerned.”
He nodded.
“Now this,” I said, indicating his wound as I checked whether the decorative pillow was helping to stem the blood loss. “What happenedthistime?”
He shrugged his other shoulder. “Got too close to one of those Popov bastards. And he got lucky with a knife.”
I sighed, doing my best to shelve the frustration, dread, and worry about their violent lifestyles.
It is what it is. Don’t think too deeply about it.
“But it was worth it,” he said as Anya returned.
I gave him a droll look.
“It was. This wasn’t a stupid, meaningless fight,” he insisted. “Because we got him.”
“Got who?” Anya asked.
I masked my reaction to her asking anything at all. It was ingrained in me not to ask for details, but she was still learning. Her curiosity resulted in less of a filter.
“Your old friend,” Sergei said, tipping his chin at me as I began to clean the wound.
“My what?” Instantly, my mind went back to all the people I used to know back home, in the area I’d grown up outside London.
“Jack Harroun,” he replied. “We found him. That’s what part of the shouting and commotion is about. We were bringing him downstairs to, uh…” He looked at Anya. “Downstairs,” he concluded. “And he tried to run off.”
“Jack’s here?” I asked. I didn’t need to seek clarification for what he meant when he said downstairs. I knew. Mikhail warned me to never go down there without him, the lowest level where enemies could be questioned.
Questioned and… killed.
“Yeah,” he replied, hissing a bit as I began to stitch him up. The couch would’ve been wet if I hadn’t laid out the protective drape over our laps.
“Oh.” I furrowed my brow as I focused on helping him. It was far easier in these moments where I could practice adapting my skills. Being here and not assisting was a waste, so it was often like this, spur-of-the-moment emergencies where the men counted on my expertise and skill.
Helping them was a strange way of making peace with their lawlessness, but it felt right.
Everything made sense now, the longer I stayed. I wasn’t quick to doubt my role anymore.
