Page 167 of Toxic Temptation
“She’s coming back, you know,” he says, slapping my back. “She’s probably just busy saving lives or whatever it is she does.”
My jaw clenches. “I don’t give a shit where she is.”
“Sure you don’t.” Pavel’s voice is maddeningly calm. “That’s why you’ve checked your phone six times since I walked in here.”
“The only reason I care is because of Luka. The kid’s attached to her, and she promised to spend more time with him.”
“She spent the entire day with him yesterday,” he reminds me.
I roll my eyes. “She left before I got home.”
Pavel’s knowing look makes me want to punch something. “Have you tried talking to her?” he asks.
“About what?”
“About what you actually want from her. Maybe it would help if she knew how you feel.”
“Feel?” I spit the word out. “This isn’t about feelings. It’s about honoring our agreement.”
“What agreement?” Luka appears at my elbow, slightly out of breath but grinning.
Osip hovers behind him, clearly eavesdropping.
“Just business, little man,” I tell him. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“The other party can be pretty stubborn,” Pavel adds helpfully.
I shoot him a withering look. “What are your plans for the weekend, Luka?”
“Can we do something with Vesper?” His whole body vibrates with excitement. “Maybe the park? Or ice cream? Or the science museum again?”
“Again? You went twice last week.”
“But we only got to see the human body exhibit both times!” Luka bounces on his toes. “Did you know humans have enough fat to make seven bars of soap?”
Pavel wrinkles his nose. “That means Osip could probably make fourteen bars.”
Luka dissolves into giggles as Osip grabs Pavel in a headlock. They wrestle around the gym while I turn my attention back to my nephew.
“I’m not sure about this weekend, buddy. Vesper’s been really busy lately.”
“She’ll make time for me,” Luka says with complete confidence.
The certainty makes me sigh. This eight-year-old kid has more faith in Vesper’s devotion than I do. The same woman who rearranges her schedule for him can’t be bothered to text me back.
“We’ll see, okay?”
Luka isn’t listening anymore. He’s staring at the fresh scar running down my torso, the one Vesper stitched up with shaking hands. “Does it hurt?” he asks.
“Please,” I scoff. “This is nothing.”
“The stitches are so tiny,” he murmurs, tracing the line with his finger. “Vesper’s really good at her job.”
Luka’s never been a normal kid. Given the family he was born into, there was no chance he was going to be like every other child out there. He grew up with tattoos and scars so commonplace that he hardly noticed them. It’s funny that he’s now taking an interest.
“I told Vesper I wanted a scar like yours and she got really upset,” he tells me. “Her eyes got all big and her voice wentfunny. She said she hoped I never needed stitches ever. I think she was scared the day you got hurt.”
Osip and Pavel have stopped wrestling. They’re both listening now, watching my face carefully.
