“I’ll get a bag.”
I hurry to the kitchen, hands shaking as I rummage under the sink until I find a large garbage bag. When I come back, he’s already out of the jacket. Roman watches me with one brow raised as I hold out the bag. He drops the blood-stained jacket inside, takes it from me, ties it off and sets it near the door.
"Won't the police have questions about Arben and the others disappearing?”
"Why would they? What’s there to report? No bodies. No witnesses. No crime. Maybe Arben and his friends got tired of the cold and went home. Albania’s a warmer country. Wouldn’t blame them.”
"Roman, be serious. What if they investigate anyway?"
He shrugs. "Moscow doesn’t waste time on missing drug dealers. There’s nothing to investigate.”
"What about your father?" I whisper, almost afraid to say it out loud. "He has that alliance with them. Won't he be upset about the killings and suspect you again?"
Roman’s mouth curves, faint and amused. "Maybe.”
“You’re not worried?”
“No.” He doesn’t hesitate to add, “he’ll know this was me and I won’t deny it. He won’t do a damn thing. He gave away Dimitri’s territory. Fine, he gets away with that. But to goagainst me and three otherbratkiover these deaths. He can’t. It would make him look weak, like the traitor he already is. Even his own council wouldn’t back him.”
“We’re safe?"
"Yes."
His answer makes me feel better, but it doesn’t erase the image of him walking through that door covered in blood. It could’ve been different. That blood could’ve been his.
"Are you really okay?” I ask, my eyes scanning his face and neck, like maybe he missed something. “You're absolutely sure?”
"I'm sure,” he answers, inching closer. Ever so slowly, his hand rises, his thumb brushing lightly along my cheek. The touch is so light, so brief I almost think I imagined it. "I’m going to shower. I'll be back."
“Okay,” I whisper, fighting the urge to reach for him.
He disappears into the bathroom. I sink onto the couch, letting out a loud breath. I just helped him discard a jacket with a dead man’s blood. I cover my mouth with my hands, letting the events soak in. I’d known for years that my readings led to deaths. I just never saw it up close. Actual blood, the proof of what my gift does.
It should bother me more than it does. The sickening nausea in my gut isn’t for the men who died. It’s for Roman, seeing him like that, knowing the world he walks in. That there are people who would love to seek revenge against him or just plain hurt him and one day he might not walk through that door. Or any door.
It destroys me.
Soon after, he comes back out, his hair damp and pushed back from his face. There’s no trace of the man who just murdered someone. He drops onto the couch next to me, so close our knees touch.
“You’re still worried.”
I try not to analyze this, that this is the closest he’s ever sat next to me. “I know what you do,” I start,” my voice shaking with emotion. “I saw it when I read that watch. I know this sounds awful, but I accept what you feel you have to do to keep your control and power. It’s just… seeing you earlier, with the blood.” My throat feels tight and lumpy. “It made me realize how dangerous all of this is. I keep thinking, what if it was your blood and someone did that to you.”
He’s quiet like I’ve caught him off guard. Maybe I have. Maybe I care too much about him when I’m not supposed to. It could be that Roman wouldn’t even care if something happened to me.
"I don’t want you upset because of this.” He runs a hand along his jaw, slowing as if he’s struggling to find the right words. “I know what this is. I know what can happen every time I go out. I don’t think about it. I can’t. This is how I live; there’s no other way. If I die, someone else will take my place.”
“Roman…”
He shakes his head, cutting me off. “I know what I’m doing, Nala. I brought you here and I told you I’d make sure you’re safe. I didn’t forget. I can’t do that if I’m not careful. I’m always careful. Okay?”
I nod. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
He turns so we’re facing each other, his eyes searching mine. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he lets out a short breath. “You don't need to worry about me.”
Roman tilts his head to the side like he’s deciding something. His lips curve into the faintest hint of a smile and his thumb lifts my chin. “Moya pchyolka.I know I have to come back to you. I’m the only person you have.”
My breath stops. The world stops. I’m hyperaware of every movement, the sound of our breathing. His scent. His eyes on me. My skin feels like it’s on fire again.
