Every day was as close to perfect as I had ever experienced, as long as I kept intrusive thoughts at bay. The phones turned out to be a bust, nothing more than an intercom system, either purposely disabled for outside calls by Gavril’s order or always only for internal use. Even learning that on the first night when I had a few moments alone didn’t bring down my heady mood. When ultra-discreet guards showed up on the second day, I didn’t freak out but pretended not to notice this newest dent in the escape plan I hadn’t thought about since I was still in LA.
That alone should have been worrisome. It meant I was getting in too deep. I pushed those thoughts aside as well. It was easy to do.
We romped on the beach from the moment the sun peeked over the horizon, swam in the shallows, napped on the sand, watched movies, had more lively arguments over them, and spent the days having nothing but carefree fun. Like a real couple on a real honeymoon.
And the nights were better than the days, when we’d fall into bed exhausted, only to find a new burst of energy when our mouths collided. Nothing could shatter the sparkling dome that seemed to encase us. Even my slightest suspicions were dashed when I snuck a look over his shoulder one evening when he’d been looking down at his phone for far too long.
Instead of seeing messages against my family, or any messages at all, he was reading a novel.
“Gav,” I shrieked, wrapping my arms around his shoulders from behind. “Is that a bestseller? You’re actually reading a book?”
We had gone to a market for supplies the other day and encountered the sweetest old couple working at the fruit stand. They filled our baskets and chatted our ears off once Gavril bragged we were on our honeymoon. Since they had just celebrated their thirtieth anniversary, they plied us with advice that gave me a little pang, wondering what it would be like to make it so far with the person you loved. Their names were Stan and Jill, and since then, we’d been calling each other Gav and Lil. It was sickeningly cute and made us both laugh.
“And look,” I continued, tapping on his phone screen. “You’re forty percent through. You must be enjoying it.”
He had actually blushed like I caught him watching porn. “I guess I don’t hate it.”
Did that mean I was changing him as much as he was changing me?
I didn’t even pause too long over hopeful thoughts; they only led to the same conclusion as the negative ones. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. Not when my family was still in danger because of him. And the end would come. This honeymoon was only an illusion I was holding onto so tightly that it would have to break. And it would be catastrophic for everyone I loved if I didn’t use my newfound strength to confront him.
Chapter 30 - Gavril
The absolute perfect unreality of our stolen honeymoon couldn’t last. I knew that problems would arise that I couldn’t keep putting off. After a few days where it was just Lilia and me, I had to deal with the avalanche before everything I worked for was gone. It was so damn hard to care when Lilia’s face fell every time I had to step away to take a call.
It wasn’t just LA, though they were my biggest headache. Things in Russia weren’t exactly going to plan. The group that was giving my men trouble proved to be a more formidable foe than they originally thought, but they remained optimistic that they’d be able to finish this minor war and get to the US to help squash Luigi’s faction.
One particular morning, Lilia and I were in the kitchen, giggling as we packed a basket full of decadent treats to take on a hike in one of the nearby nature trails. Did I just admit to giggling? Lilia had finally broken me down enough to try reading a novel, so it seemed that wonders never ceased.
“Do you think we’ll see an alligator?” she asked.
“You saw for yourself in the brochure that the banks were lined with them.” I turned to her and tapped her adorable, upturned nose. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen one.”
“Only in a zoo,” she said. “These will just be hanging out in the wild. What if they get hungry?”
I pulled her close and gave her a long, lingering kiss that had her melting against me. “You’re certainly a delicious morsel,” I said.
The trip to the wildlife preserve was on the way to being forgotten when my phone rang. She slipped away, eyesdowncast. The first few days, I left my phone to rot, only checking it briefly while she was changing or in the shower. As things escalated, as they tended to do when the boss ignored them, I had to answer more and more.
“Just a few seconds,” I promised.
It was a promise I couldn’t keep, and we never got to see any alligators that day. I tried to make it up to her, but she must have taken the time alone to remember I was supposedly her enemy. She was suddenly her old self again, quiet and locked away.
No matter what I tried, I couldn’t find the key to break through her unhappiness. I berated myself for caring, reminded myself of what was important, and tried to be angry. None of it worked. She had changed something in me, a thought or a belief. Something that made me want more than the illusion of perfect days.
We were walking on the beach one evening, our hands brushing but not clasped together, our shadows lengthening on the damp sand. She scurried away from a wave that washed up further than the others, but there was no delight in her eyes as she dodged the spray.
“Something’s wrong,” I said, stopping in my tracks. Water sluiced over my feet, surprisingly cold, but I didn’t move.
“What?” she asked, looking around for the threat.
I shook my head. “No, I mean with you. Tell me what it is, Lil. Let me fix it.”
Was I making another promise I couldn’t keep just to bring the light back to her eyes? She looked relieved that I had noticed, but also scared to death, as if she were dying to tell me something she didn’t dare.
She couldn’t possibly still be scared of me. What we shared recently was real.
But it wasn’t. I knew that as well as she did.
