Page 31
I sit beside her, leaving enough space that she can choose whether to remain or pull away. “Tell me.”
She looks toward the glass for a moment. “Dark hair. Brown eyes. Scar near his jaw, right here.” She lifts one trembling finger to her own jaw. “Not big, but enough that I’d know him again. Italian accent. Calm voice.” Her hand drops back into her lap. “Too calm.”
The details sink in one at a time, and each one points toward the same conclusion. The men who came for Ivy weren't improvising. Someone planned this, paid for it, and expected it to succeed.
Maggie turns toward me, reading more from my silence than I'd like. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”
I hold her eyes. “It is.”
A strained laugh leaves her, empty of humor. “Well. That’s unfortunate.”
“Maggie.”
“He knows I saw him.” She rubs both hands over her face, then drops them again. “Don't downplay it. He knows.”
I say nothing, because she’s right. The man who escaped knows her face, knows she fought for Ivy, and knows she gave a statement to the police. A witness who can identify him is not only dangerous to the person who held the gun. She’s dangerous to whoever paid him.
“You’re not returning to the shelter.”
Her head turns toward me at once. “Alexei.”
“Maggie.”
“No, Alexei.” She sits straighter, fear giving way to frustration. “I have a job. I have animals dependin’ on me. I have volunteers who are scared and donors who might vanish if I disappear right when everyone needs reassurance.”
“You have a target on your back.”
“And hidin’ here won’t change what happened.”
“It might keep you alive.”
That stops her. She wraps her arms around herself, staring at nothing in particular. The anger remains, but it’s no longer winning.
I move closer, one hand resting on the cushion near her hip.
Tears gather, but she blinks them back. “I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save Irina.”
“You saved Ivy.”
Her mouth trembles once before she looks down at her hands. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”
I reach for her. My thumb brushes along her cheek.
Her fingers rise to my wrist, not to pull me away, but to hold me there. Her pulse beats quickly beneath my thumb. Her eyes move to my mouth. I feel the choice in that look before either of us moves.
I lean in and she meets me.
5
MAGGIE
The taste of him is unmistakable. Whiskey, exhaustion, and all the tension we've both been carrying around since the kidnapping. His hand slides into my hair, fingers threading through the loose strands as he tips my head back and deepens the kiss. I don't fight it. Lord knows I don't want to. A low sound leaves him, rough and full of relief, and it rolls straight through me. My heart stumbles against my ribs while heat spreads low in my stomach, chasing away some of the fear that's been living there.
The argument about the shelter, the danger, and the man who saw my face fades into the background until none of it matters for a little while. It all gets swallowed by this moment. I grab hold of his shoulders and pull myself closer, needing him more than I need my next breath. It feels like the world keeps finding new ways to come apart, and right now, he's the only thing that makes any of it feel manageable.
Alexei kisses me like he needs this as much as I do. My fingers bunch in the fabric of his shirt while my pulse races. Every worry that has been chasing me slips a little farther away with each kiss, leaving nothing but the warmth of his arms around me.
We're off the small sofa before I fully realize we're moving. Alexei never breaks the kiss as he rises, pulling me with him until I'm standing between his knees. My fingers remain tangled in his shirt while his hands stay at my waist, holding me close.
