Page 98 of Born into Blood

“I won’t be coming back,” Vladimir assures them. “Whatever money I could get for her isn’t worth the war it would start.”

I feel Luka tense at the man’s words, looking every bit like he wants to go and kill again, but I pull him closer and kiss his shoulder. He relaxes at the feel of my lips on his skin, and I’ve never felt so damn powerful. I know if I asked him to, he’d kill Vladimir for his part in this, but I also know it would start a war, and that’s not something I can live with. My ego can take the hit. It’s always been on the short side anyway.

I’m about to tell Luka that Vladimir is nothing and to not give the asshole a second thought when I hear my mom scream my name. I jerk my head around at the sound of her terrified voice as she runs towards me. She pulls me from Luka and straight into a suffocating hug.

“Mom, I’m okay,” I try and tell her, but she’s too hysterical to hear me. She’s sobbing and shaking her head, too scared and traumatized to believe what I’m telling her. I look over her shoulder at Luka, giving him an I don’t know what to do look, and he immediately steps closer, trying to offer whatever comfort he can, but when he says her name, my mom loses it. She reaches out, grabbing the knife that’s clipped to the pocket of his jeans before I even realize what she’s doing. I hear the click of the blade springing free, and when I see her lunge for Luka, I don’t think, I just react, jumping between them right as Luka yells my name and my mom’s arm comes down, swiping the sharp blade across my upper arm.

As many times as I’ve cut myself, I’ve never gone this deep, and the pain of it has my knees buckling. Before I can collapse, Luka’s arms are around me, holding me against him as he turns us around, shielding me with his body as the others rush at my mom, but there’s no need. I saw the horrified look on her face when she’d realized what she’d done, the knife already hanging useless at her side and covered in my blood.

“Lara,” Luka yells again while ripping the sleeve of my shirt even more so he can see how bad the cut is. “Fuck, baby, why did you do that?”

“I didn’t want her to hurt you.”

The look in his eyes makes it clear that we’re going to be having a talk about this later, but right now he’s too busy trying to stop the flow of blood. I can feel it dripping down my arm, but I’m too afraid to look at the actual wound. If it looks as bad as it hurts, then I don’t want to see it.

“She’s going to need stitches,” Lev says, walking over to take a closer look.

“You can bring her to my house,” Dominic says. “Tony can do it.”

“Do I have to?” I ask, wanting nothing more than to just sleep for several days. “Can’t we just go home, Luka?”

He hears the exhaustion in my voice, and even though I know I need stitches, what I really want is a good dose of painkillers and to sleep for three days.

“I’m sorry, kisa, but the stitches can’t wait,” Luka says as he tears a strip of cloth from the bottom of my shirt and wraps it around my arm, tightening it enough to put pressure on the cut and stop the bleeding.

“I can do it, if you want,” Matvey says. “We can go to Vitaly’s. We need to have a talk about all this anyway, and that’s probably the best place to do it.”

I’m not sure why that would be the best place, but I nod my head anyway since Vitaly’s place is only minutes from ours, and I’d much rather have Matvey stitch me up than someone I don’t know.

Luka scoops me up into his arms. “Okay, we’ll meet you there.”

“What about my mom?” I ask, looking over at her. She’s on her knees, hands covering her face as she cries. I call out to her, trying to get her attention, and when she finally looks up at me, it’s with haunted, confused eyes. She’s desperately trying to make sense of everything, trying to unravel the web she’s painstakingly built to create a truth that never was. My dad was the monster, not the Melnikovs, and her mind is unable to do such a quick one-eighty.

“We’ll make sure she gets to Vitaly’s safely,” Roman tells me. He steps closer and surprises me by taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. “I won’t forget what you did, Lara.”

“She better damn well never do it again,” Luka growls, raising a brow at me and daring me to argue. When he sees that I’m more than happy to keep my ass far from danger, he relaxes just enough to soften the tension in his forehead, but I know he won’t truly relax until I’m stitched up and safely back in his apartment.

“Don’t worry,” Roman tells his son, clapping him on the back as he gives me a smile, “we’ll make sure she’s never in this position again. I can’t have my future daughter-in-law getting hurt.”

Even though my arm is really starting to scream at me and I’ve just experienced the most fucked-up few hours of my life, I can’t help but return his smile. I love Luka, and I love that I’m going to be a part of his family. They all dropped everything to come looking for me, and I won’t ever forget that. Now that I know who my dad really was, I’m glad I never got the chance to meet him, but that doesn’t mean I’ve never longed for a father figure, and I can already tell that Roman is going to make one hell of a father-in-law.

He gives my uninjured arm a soft pat and then looks at his son. “We need to go. Meet us at Vitaly’s and Matvey can get her stitched up.”

Luka nods and pulls me closer, kissing my forehead before leading me out of the room. Max and Val stay on either side of us as we leave Vladimir’s fucked-up cabin in the woods.

“What about the other men here?” I ask, gripping Luka tighter when I see the guards standing right outside.

“Our men have the cabin surrounded, kisa. Don’t worry. Vladimir’s men aren’t going to do shit,” Luka says, carrying me past the well-armed men with a look on his face that makes it clear he’d like nothing more than for one of these men to try something just so he can have the excuse to take them down. When I look over at Val and Max, I see the same expression on their faces. It’s obvious the Melnikovs don’t care for the Turgenevs, but unless Vladimir’s men step out of line, there’s little they can do. I pat Luka’s chest and kiss his neck because I know how much this is pissing him off right now.

“You got to kill one of them,” I remind him.

The corner of his mouth lifts up in a small smirk. “One isn’t enough.”

Before tonight, I would’ve argued that murder is wrong and you shouldn’t do it, but that was before Radek hung me from a goddamn hook and put his filthy hands on me. I’m beginning to rethink a lot of things since meeting Luka. The line between good and bad, and right and wrong, just got really fucking blurry.

Luka tosses his keys to Max, who then goes jogging down a gravel road. The adrenaline is fading fast, and in its place comes a mix of pain and bone-deep exhaustion. “Why is Max running?”

“He’s getting the car, baby.” Luka kisses me again, keeping his lips lightly pressed against my forehead. “You still okay?”

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