“She doesn’t know,” Sergei said, eyes steady.“It’s your call if she does.”
Her pulse thudded, his respect striking deeper than pity.“Tiana,” she managed, voice slurring.“Where is she?”
“Another safehouse.”His hand dropped.“Nadia moved her while you slept.Again, you’re safer apart.”
Her chest tightened, anger flaring through the fog.“You decided without me.Again.”
“I kept her safe.”His voice stayed even, but his hands tightened into fists.“You were out, Keisha.I couldn’t risk waiting.”
“You don’t trust me to handle this.”Her words rasped, trembling hand gripping the cot.“I’m not some kid you save.”
Sergei’s jaw clenched, eyes darkening.“You think I don’t trust you?You’re the one pushing me away.”
Her vision cleared, but fatigue crushed her.Tiana’s face—defiant, trusting—burned in her mind.“I have to protect her,” she said, standing, legs unsteady.“Not you.”
A phone buzzed on the crate, screen flashing.Sergei grabbed it, reading, his face hardening.“Kryvaya Stal knows we’re here and Tiana isn’t with us,” he said, voice low.“They’re trying to track Tiana’s new location.”
Panic sliced through her.“We have to move her again.”
“You can’t.”Sergei stepped closer, not touching.“Not like this.”
Her hand shook with the aftershocks.“She’s my responsibility.”
“And you’re mine,” he said, words slipping out, raw.His eyes held hers, respect and something deeper warring.
The door creaked.Nadia returned.Keisha straightened, hiding her tremor.Kryvaya Stal was closing in, and trust was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
Not yet.
Chapter 10
Sergei’s braced hisfoot on the food truck’s step.Sweat trickled down his spine, oil and mango fumes clashing with dumpster rot.Keisha stood close, her arm brushing his, tremor faint in her fingers as she fumbled her wallet.He noticed the small details...always did.
“Two empanadas, one water,” Keisha told the vendor, voice steady despite her shake.
Sergei edged closer, shielding her from the crowd.Neon lights revealed the exhaustion carved deep in her face—dark circles, tight jaw.His gut twisted.
