From everything I’d lost.
From everything I’d destroyed.
“It’s a good opportunity, Sasha,” Dmitri said. “Maybe the best you’ll get.”
Before I could respond, movement caught my eye. A woman strode past our booth toward Firebug, long brownhair pulled back in a ponytail, tattoos covering her bare arms.
“Firebug!” she called out.
“Yes, sweetheart?” He didn’t look up from his paperback.
“I need—” She stopped when she saw us. No, she stopped when she sawDmitri.
Her lips curled into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Coach Novikov.”
“Sage.” I recognized her now as one of Eva’s friends, the criminology student Tristan liked to tease about being a serial killer. “It’s good to see you.”
“Is it?” Her eyes flicked to Dmitri, unreadable. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“My cousin, Dmitri Lebedev. Dmitri, this is Sage Buchanan. What are you doing here?”
“Firebug’s one of my dads,” she said, her tone light. “I help out sometimes when things get busy.”
Besides us, there were only two other shooters—an older Italian-American I didn’t recognize and one of Declan’s enforcers.
Dmitri still hadn’t said a fucking word.
“Okay, well, see you later,” she said, that fake cheer making me wonder what the fuck was going on between her and my cousin.
The moment she left, he handed me my protective gear, flipped off the safety, and emptied the rest of the clip into a target at the far end of the range.
Without saying a word, he hit the switch that would bring it back to us. He’d blown out the entire head and chest.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Three of my men have gone missing over the past twomonths. They’re all fucking scumbags—men I’d never have allowed to take the oath.”
“And what does that have to do with the daughter of a motorcycle gang member?”
“Members,” he corrected. “They’re an all-male polycule that runs a bar on the outside of town too.” His eyes flicked to mine, lit with amusement. “There must be something in the water in this town—all this polyamory.”
“You disapprove?”
Dmitri laughed and clapped me on the back, his earlier tension apparently forgotten. “Not at all, brother. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy.”
“And you think I’ll be happy in Boston.”
“Coaching an NHL team? Yes. I do. Think about it—a fresh start.”
“Alone.”
“Maybe.” Dmitri’s expression sobered. “Or maybe you figure out your shit and don’t go by yourself.”
He drove off and left me standing in the parking lot of Firebug’s range, wondering if I even deserved to try to figure out my shit.
I didn’t want a clean slate if it didn’t include her, if it didn’t include them.
I just had to figure out a way to make that happen.
