Page 128 of Bratva's Vow
A long beat passed. Then he sighed.
“Fine. After your classes, I’ll take you to the range. But only because I agree with you. You need to know how to handle yourself. The world you’re in now… it’s not a gentle one. It’s better to be prepared. In fact, we’ll pick Jess up, and I’ll take both of you.”
I swallowed around the knot in my throat and nodded.
It wasn’t a gentle world.
I wasn’t going to be helpless in it any longer.
CHAPTER THIRTY
MAXIM
The movie had ended, but I hadn’t moved. Wren was draped over me like a second skin, his limbs slack, cheek pressed to my chest. He’d fallen asleep halfway through the third act, his breathing steady, warm against my ribs. I didn’t mind. His weight, his presence, soothed something raw in me. Something that would never heal until I found Vova’s killer.
But he was hot. Too hot.
I shifted and pressed the back of my hand to his forehead. Still warm. Not burning like earlier, but the fever hadn’t broken. It lingered, quiet and stubborn.
He’d downplayed it, of course. Said it was nothing. A bug going around, probably something mild. But Wren couldn’t fake anything to save his life. Not when his skin flushed too pink and his appetite vanished overnight. Not when he complained of his legs hurting. Not when he’d sounded almost delirious earlier.
My phone vibrated on the coffee table, and my breathhitched. I’d been waiting all evening for that phone call. Since the informant who’d agreed to meet us didn’t show up, leaving us to believe he’d meant to target me.
Luckily, Sergei had gotten back a hit from the call he’d received from the man earlier. He thought he had a location, and I’d been expecting his call but trying not to be too hopeful. So far, every time we got close enough, we hit a dead end.
I eased out from under Wren, moving slowly, careful not to wake him. He murmured something unintelligible and curled onto his side, one arm under his cheek. I pulled the throw over him and tucked it around his body, then crouched beside the couch and watched him for a beat. Just to make sure his breathing was steady. Just to take in the little furrow of his brow, like even in sleep, some distant part of him was restless.
The phone buzzed again, breaking the stillness. I picked it up and walked away from him, reluctant but necessary.
Sergei’s name flashed on the screen.
“Tell me you have good news, Sergei.”
“We found him,” Sergei said. No preamble. No bullshit.
I curled my hand tighter around the phone, and I let out a sigh. “Finally.”
“No, don’t sound so pleased yet. He’s fucking dead.”
I stilled. For a moment, the world narrowed into a single point.
The room spun. My breath hitched, caught on the jagged edge of hope that was crushed under the weight of Sergei's blunt words. I slumped against the wall, gripping my phone so hard it was a miracle it didn’t shatter.
“Dead?”
“Looks like a murder and suicide,” Sergei said, his voice tight. “We found him and his roommate dead.”
“What the fuck? This is too convenient, Sergei.”
“One of them had Vova’s wallet on him. From the looks of the place, they were junkies.”
But were they? The first attack on me when Wren got stabbed instead was also by a junkie.
“Have someone pick me up,” I said. “I need to see for myself.”
“Got it. He’ll be there in ten.”
I hung up and let the news sink in. Fuck. I punched the wall but didn’t even regret the pain that flared through my knuckles. How the fuck did this mastermind stay one step ahead of us? The only answer was that it was someone close to me. But who would fuck me over like that? Those closest to my side had been with me for years.
