Page 150 of The Bratva King

I choose to wait. Every hour, I choose it again.

By nine, I’m done choosing.

I gave her the day because she needed it. Time. Space. A chance to think about what she's doing without me telling her what to do.

“Want me to go with you?” Pasha asks when we pull through the gates.

“No.”

He takes a deep breath. “You could just let her go.”

“I can’t.”

He nods. “Understood. Call if you need me.”

I take the keys from my driver. I’ve got to do this on my own. I need the silence to think clearly. Right now, my thoughts are moving in too many directions. I feel the familiar pressure building at the back of my skull.

The question I keep turning over is whether I have the right to go after her. She’s not bound to me by anything except whatever this thing between us is that neither of us has been willing to name.

My security team is sitting across the street, watching the motel. I signal for them to leave and sit for a moment with the engine off. My eyes settle on the door. She’s in there.

I can debate all night whether I have the right to go after her, but I already know that I’m not leaving without her. Or Luke.

I stop in front of the room and knock softly. I see the curtain move just a fraction.

I wait.

The deadbolt turns. The chain slides, and the door opens. She looks exhausted and is still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

She doesn’t look surprised to see me.

I look past her shoulder. Luke is asleep on the bed, curled on his side with the stegosaurus tucked under his arm and the blanket pulled up.

She’s braced for a fight. She’s expecting me to be angry. I can see her prepare her defense.

I don’t give her the chance.

“I love you.”

The words come out quieter than I intend. I’ve never said them to anyone except my mother.

Gabby stares at me. “Nik.”

“Come home,” I say. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever you’re carrying, whatever it is you haven’t told me, we’ll figure it out together.”

“I’m not asking you to tell me everything tonight. I know I haven’t earned all of it yet.” I hold her gaze. “Don’t leave. Don’t leave me.”

She looks at Luke. Then back at me. I’ve never felt vulnerable, but I’m pretty sure this is what it feels like.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she whispers.

“I know exactly what I’m asking.”

I watch her blink back tears. She slowly shakes her head. “Oh God, you don’t.”

“I do, Gabby.”

Her eyes hold mine. I watch the fight. I see the fear. She steps back and opens the door a little wider.