They danced until their legs ached, until the stress of dinner melted away, until all Hans could think about how luckyhe was that Adrik had stayed with him, and in that moment he felt like it was the start of something real.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Adrik
Warnemünde, Germany
Adrik had barely kickedoff his boots when his phone buzzed. Yakov’s name lit up the screen. Great. That was never good news.
He answered anyway. “Hey.”
“Adrik,” Yakov said, voice tight. “You need to come to Russia. Your mother’s in the hospital.”
A tight, uneasy pressure settled low in his gut. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s going into surgery and she needs blood transfusions.”
Adrik scrubbed a hand over his face, already moving toward the kitchen table like sitting down might steady him. “Send me everything. I’ll leave tonight.”
“Adrik… she’s in Seversk. There are no direct flights.”
He froze. “Fuck. Why the hell is she in a closed city?”
“That’s where Sergei told her to go. For safety.”
Safety. Right. His family’s version of safety always came wrapped in danger. “So how do I get there?”
“Rostock to Berlin, then to Antalya, then to Tomsk. Once you land, I’ll pick you up and get you through the checkpoints into Seversk.”
Adrik leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling as if it might magically shorten the distance. “How long is this going to take?”
“Twenty-seven hours and thirty minutes.”
“Jesus.” A heavy rush of blood blurred the edges of sound. Almost thirty hours before he could even get to her.
“Call me when you get to Tomsk,” Yakov said.
“Will do.” He hung up, feeling like the floor had shifted under him.
Hans must’ve heard the tone in his voice because he came over and sat beside him on another chair, hand warm on Adrik’s thigh. “What’s going on?”
Adrik swallowed hard. “I have to leave for Russia tonight. My mother’s having surgery.”
Hans’ face softened instantly. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“No.” The answer came out too fast, too sharp. He softened it with a sigh. “It’s not safe for us together.”
“Can I at least make the reservations while you pack?”
Adrik nodded, even though every part of him wanted to say no, to pretend this wasn’t happening. “I don’t want to go,” he admitted quietly. “But it’s my duty.”
He pushed himself up, grabbed a notepad, and started scribbling the airports in order—Rostock, Berlin, Antalya, Tomsk. He tried to keep his writing steady, yet the letters wavered just enough to betray him.
He handed the note and his documents to Hans, then went to pack. Every shirt he folded made his chest tighter. Hismother could die. He didn’t even know what kind of surgery she was having. And she was alone. In Russia. In a closed city.
He zipped his bag and sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, pressing his palms to his eyes.This was all Viktor’s fault for putting a hit on him and Sergei. She would have been home with her family. With the best New York City treatment. He hated Viktor even more now. And his fucking brother too, for stirring up all this shit. He hated them all!
He had to get to her. No matter how long it took.
