Page 55 of Inked in Devotion

He clasped my shoulders. “I’m sorry I came across like you did something wrong. I reacted badly. I was just concerned. And like you said, I’m still new to this daddy thing. I know you can get tired and zone out, but it doesn’t mean you’re neglectful. I was out of line.” He drew me closer. “Forgive me?”

My shoulders rose and fell. He appeared contrite, and I did lie. There were a few minutes I blanked out, or thought I did. I wasn’t sure.

“You’re forgiven.” I smiled up at him.

A baby’s cry broke us apart.

“Lunchtime for the baby,” I announced, then offered him an olive branch. “You want to feed him?”

Chapter

Twelve

Chloe

“Storm’s coming.” Dark clouds swirled ominously on the other side of the French doors. I twisted the ruby ring on my left hand. Storms reminded me of the last night I’d seen Renée.

“You’re scared of storms?” Kolya asked.

“They unsettle me.” I glanced back at him. He was sitting on the couch with Sebastian sleeping on his chest. This boy was spoiled. We’d been ensconced in this cottage for five days. Twice as long as our weekend together. Sebastian dictated our schedule. Sorcha came over a few hours a day to clean up or cook food while I caught up remotely with work for the NGO. It was mostly paperwork and contracts.

Kolya had been busy making the cottage kid-proof. He always had a project. He even replaced the faucet. I told him that if he ever gave up working for the bratva, he could work as a handyman.

As for Theo and the fate of King Industries, Maksim told me the board had backed off asking Theo to resign as CEO.

I plopped down beside Kolya. “It just brings back bad memories.” This was a common activity for us. Keeping an eye on Sebastian while he played with his toys as we streamed mindless shows. I couldn’t even remember a single plot.

“Care to share?” Kolya asked. “I shared mine.”

“Not willingly,” I teased. The other night we crossed over to the main house to have dinner with Lucy and Kirill. Lucy said that when Kirill was barely ten, Ivan had sent him to live in the depths of the Russian winter to survive in a cabin. That it was a good thing Kolya showed up as his companion.

I was shocked. I knew Ivan was ruthless, but to do this to his son? It was around the time I was born. I also didn’t realize that Kolya and Kirill’s friendship had been forged in the Russian wilderness at such a young age. Kolya joked he was instrumental in keeping Kirill alive, and Kirill didn’t even bother denying it. They hunted for their food and kept a fire going in the log cabin to keep warm. It gave me insight into Kolya’s upbringing. It explained his efficiency in fixing things around the house. But more than anything, it explained how survival was second nature to him.

It stirred understanding in me, but it also dug out renewed anxiety as I stared at Sebastian sleeping on Kolya’s chest. Conflict raged inside me like the impending turbulent weather.

Was it right to keep my son from his legacy, or was I doing more harm than good?

Kolya and I didn’t have normal childhoods. I didn’t know what a normal childhood looked like, so how could I say I wanted one for Sebastian? The hypocritical lens through which I judged Kolya was charring me at the edges like the sun through a magnifying glass, burning a hole through every excuse I had on why the bratva wasn’t a place to raise Sebastian.

An involuntary shudder wracked through me following a clap of lightning and the ensuing rumble of thunder. I forced myself to meet Kolya’s eyes.

“It was raining sheets of rain the night Renée and I narrowly escaped a car accident.”

Kolya stilled before adjusting his position on the couch as if he was in for a long story, and I debated how much to tell him about that night.

“How old were you?” he asked.

“Fifteen. Renée was driving, and yes, I rarely called her Mom anymore as a precaution.”

His brows furrowed. “Because she doesn’t want you to be linked to her?”

I nodded, staring at my clasped fingers on my lap. “Yes. She said I needed to prepare for all scenarios. That there might come a time when being my mother would put me in danger. Anyway, that night, Renée swore there was a black pickup truck following us. The ones with jacked-up tires. She tried to lose it, but then two motorcycles were racing each other and sideswiped us.” That entire memory was hazy amidst the roar of thunder and pouring rain. The windshield wipers working furiously limited our visibility. “Renée hit a guardrail, but she didn’t stop driving. We were both screaming in the car. She was convinced Esther sent assassins after us. We made it back to the apartment. We always had a go bag with several identities. Jumped back into the car, left Georgia and fled to Florida.” I shook my head, wrapping my hands around my biceps. “It was a slow-moving thunderstorm across the region, so it rained most of the night. When we arrived, we checked into a motel. Renée was a mess. She kept mumbling that we were in danger. She bought me a bus ticket to Michigan to live with Dora.” When Pavel was forced to let Dora go, she became a champion for abused women and formed connections in an organization that helped domestic abuse victims.

I stopped speaking when it hit me again. I exhaled heavily. “That was the last time I saw Renée.”

“I’m sorry, Chloshka,” Kolya said softly.

“We kept in contact. Christmas and birthday cards here and there. And I told you about this ring she’d given me for my eighteenth birthday.” I twisted the ruby ring on my middle finger. “Phone calls on burners. She sent money to Dora. I knew Bruce Davenport was handling Duncan’s financial responsibilities toward us. I just wish there was something he could have done before then so Renée and I didn’t feel like our lives were constantly in danger.” I blew out a breath. “I still don’t know if Renée overreacted, or she just felt I was a burden.” Then I realized what I had said, and contrition swept through me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I feel awful for saying that.”