“You’re not angry we killed them?”
He exhales and drops his head to my chest, his breath warm against my skin.
“I’m not angry. I feel like I can breathe again. He’s been this nightmare I couldn’t escape, always wondering when he’d come back to finish what he started. I’m relieved he’s gone.”
I glance down at him and breathe in the smell of his hair, filling my lungs up with his scent until it hurts and I have to breathe it out.
“We used his money to pay off all the debt he put you in. It’s the least that asshole could do since he’s the one who caused it in the first place. It won’t get traced back to you. Daniil made sure of it.”
“Thank you,” he whispers. “Are we safe? Will your father kill us?”
“Safe for now. I won’t let anyone hurt you. We can trust my mother.”
At that, he goes slack.
I wrap my arms tighter around him, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between us.
I have no idea how this is going to turn out. None at all.
But I trust my mother when she says Kelly is safe. If she says it, she’ll make it true because she doesn’t make promises she can’t back up.
I know what it cost her to stand in front of him like that today. I know what it brought up for her. All those memories she keeps buried. She was never the same after her brother died.
I was eight the day it happened. I still remember her cries, the way she screamed so hard she fell to the floor. I remember the sound of it, raw and endless.
I’ll never forget it. I was old enough to understand that he died for loving another man. Old enough to realize I was already like him. The terror of ending up the same way has lived in my chest ever since, waiting for the day someone would figure me out.
My father proved me right. The disgust, the blade, the immediate decision that I deserve to die. I’ve carried that nightmare since I was eight years old, and it played out exactly how I always imagined. Expect it didn’t end with me bleeding out like Evgeny, condemned by everyone who mattered. My mother stood with me. I don’t know how to process that, but it’s more than I thought I’d get.
Chapter 26
Kelly
Clover curls against my side while I tap away on my laptop again. I need the distraction after everything that went down. I already sent in my resignation and applied to a few more jobs. It’s not like I’ll get any of them, but I needed to do something productive. Anything to keep my hands busy and my mind off the way everything fell apart.
I can’t stop thinking about the look on his face when his father saw us together. That moment of pure disgust burned itself into my soul.
He’s been quiet since then, withdrawn in a way that has nothing to do with his usual stoic bullshit. He’s sad. Not that he’d ever say it or admit it out loud, but I know what it looks like when someone’s breaking inside. He’s trying so hard to act normal. I keep making stupid jokes or trying to distract him, but nothing works. I think he’s depressed, and I don’t blame him. It’s killing me, I don’t know what to do.
My eyes drift out the window without thinking. I blink in surprise. The sky’s full of white flickers dancing in the air. At first, I think I’m imagining it, maybe seeing things from staring at the laptop screen too long. But it’s real. Snow.
I grin before I can stop myself. I spin around and bolt for the hallway, grabbing my shoes and tearing through the closet like a maniac looking for my coat. I’m not missing the first snowfall of the year.
I loved December and Christmas when my mom was alive.
I run toward the sliding door so fast I nearly slip and faceplant on the hardwood. I yank my coat on, shove my feet into my shoes, and swing the door open.
The cold air hits me right in the face and steals my breath completely. I step out anyway.
My breath fogs in front of me in little puffs. It’s freezing, brutal enough to make my skin sting. It’s perfect.
The snowflakes land softly on my cheeks. I close my eyes, breathing in deep.
I hear the sliding door open behind me. Arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me back against a solid chest. I lean into the touch. His mouth brushes my neck with soft kisses that are slow and careful. He holds me tighter against him like he’s trying to anchor us both.
“It’s freezing out here,” he murmurs against my skin. “What are you doing?”
“It’s December,” I say, my breath fogging in the cold air. “This will be my first Christmas without my mom.”
