Page 95 of Twisted Pact
“Then they’ll call. But I’m not going to leave you alone in a hospital bed to sit in a room and discuss strategy I already know. Your health comes first.”
He leans back in his chair and rubs his temples. The weight of competing priorities shows in the way his shoulders slump.
“This is my fault,” he finally blurts out.
“What?”
“Your stress. The high blood pressure. All of it. If I hadn’t gotten you involved in this world, you’d be safe at the university and writing your dissertation.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “That’s not helpful right now.”
“Maybe not, but it’s true.”
I study his face. The guilt there is real.
“Do you regret getting involved with me?”
He whips his head from side to side. “No. Never. But I regret what it’s cost you. You’re in a hospital bed with dangerously high blood pressure because of choices I made.”
“Choiceswemade. Together. Everything else is just consequence.”
Alexei reaches for my hand again. “Maybe some consequences are too high a price.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not? If being with me puts you and our baby at risk?—”
“Then we figure out how to minimize the risk. We don’t just give up.”
“How? Dr. Orlov is right about my lifestyle and this world I live in. It’s not compatible with a peaceful pregnancy.”
“Then we change what we can and adapt to what we can’t.”
He throws his hands in the air and asks, “And if that’s not enough?”
Neither of us knows the answer. Neither of us can guarantee that love is enough to overcome the reality of who we are and where we come from.
His phone rings from the nightstand. Alexei reaches for it.
“Don’t answer,” I say. “Dr. Orlov said no stress.”
“It’s Sasha.”
“Who?”
“My sister. She’s calling from London.”
I remember the brief mention of her during family conversations. The youngest Kozlov. The one they’re all trying to protect from this world.
“You’re talking to her,” he states, not asking for my opinion. “She’s not involved in any of the business, not intimately, anyway. You need to hear from someone who exists outside all this darkness.”
“Alexei—”
“This isn’t negotiable. You need normal conversation with normal people, and Sasha is the most normal person in my family.”
“Answer it,” I encourage after a moment of thought. “You’re right. Maybe talking to someone normal will help.”
Alexei puts the call on speaker. “Sasha.”
