Page 47 of Wyatt

“Mama has to go now, Mikka, but you remember this. You are strong.” She kissed his forehead, then pushed his dark brown hair from his face. “And you are loved.”

“Will you come back for my birthday?”

She pressed her hand to his cheek. “If I can.”

He rolled over and pulled the lion into his embrace, and she could barely breathe.

Lana waited for her by the door. Without a word, she pulled Coco into her embrace.

Coco let her, her jaw tight, then pushed her away and without a word grabbed her backpack and headed away from the orphanage, trying not to look back.

Trying not to break into a thousand pieces right in front of her son.

Be strong. Be a Stanlisov. Be…

She broke out in a run, breathing hard until she turned the corner. Then she leaned against the building and pressed her hands to her face.

She was a terrible mother. But she was just trying to keep him safe, right?

Just keep moving.She finally managed to pull herself together, to breath out the terrible grief in her chest.Don’t look back.

The dirt street was quiet, just a couple dogs barking at her through fences. She headed down the main street under the glow of a street lamp, onto the cobblestone sidewalk.

Her heartbeat banged against her empty chest as she walked through the semidarkness to…where? She hadn’t thought all the way to the moment when she had to leave.

Maybe a hotel—the Intourist Hotel was usually located near the train station.

Or maybe right to tonight’s train—

Footsteps behind her made her stiffen.

Clearly, she was still a little paranoid. She hunched her shoulders, put her head down, and stayed under the lights of the sidewalk.

The cadence of the footsteps quickened, rushing at her. She turned to look—

“Run!”

The voice came from across the street and she got just a glimpse—a man, solid, quick, and with enough urgency in his English—English!

“Run, Katya!”

Behind her, a woman was running at her. Dark hair, tattoos up her neck—

The woman from the train?

Coco screamed as the woman leaped at her.

She at least remembered to throw her backpack before she turned and fled down the street.

York was tired of getting there too late.

He hadn’t been able to keep Tasha, his girlfriend, from being run over.

Hadn’t been able to warn RJ of the setup.

And now, he was two steps too short from stopping Tattoo Tanya—his name for the assassin the Bratva had sent—from hurting Kat.

He’d taken a flight from Moscow straight to Blagoveshchensk, then hopped a train to nearby Belogorsk. Frankly, he hadn’t the foggiest idea why Kat had gone to Belogorsk, of all places, but he’d downloaded a Google map on the train.

---