Page 107 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

“But there couldn’t have been any other life for me,” I continue. “You can’t just stop this and become a doctor or a lawyer or a fucking accountant.”

“I can’t exactly see you sitting in a cubicle all day,” she laughs. “You’d burn the place to the ground.”

As she rises up on her tiptoes, the fallen beam groans under her weight and she wavers to the side a bit. She doesn’t look like she’s losing control, but I reach out and scoop her up in my arms anyway. Just an automatic reaction, unthinking:Protect her.

Her hands loop around my neck and I stare down at her, marveling at how beautiful she is. Her high cheekbones. The golden hair. Those liquid eyes, like honey frozen in time.

But there’s no avoiding the sadness etched across every feature on her face. It clings to her stubbornly, refusing to let go. A veil she cannot rip away no matter how hard she tries. No matter how hard I try.

“You’re not going to lose him,” I whisper to her softly, fiercely.

She tenses, caught in the act. “How did you know I was thinking about Theo?”

“Because I’ve been where you are now. In fact, I’m reliving it all over again. There’s no way to stop thinking about it.”

She stares at me, her eyes thick with unshed tears. “Sometimes, it feels like I’m going insane.”

I nod. “Sounds about right.”

“Is there any way to make it stop?”

“I tried alcohol,” I admit. “A lot of it. And it does numb you—for a time. But then you realize you’ve just piled onto your problems.”

She sighs. “It’s not that I want to forget. I just want to keep my thoughts clear enough so that I can actually be of use.”

“You’re a mother. Worrying is second nature.”

“Does that imply that fathers don’t worry as much?”

“Not at all. They just work harder to hide it.”

She takes a deep breath and looks up towards the sky. I take the moment to examine the arch of her neck. I desperately want to press my lips to her nape and drink in her scent. It’s the only thing that will calm me down at the moment.

But whatever is still there between us—if in fact there’s still something there at all—is still too fragile and strange for that. I don’t want to crush it the way I crush everything else in my world.

This will have to be enough for now.

Slowly, she brings her face back down to earth. But her eyes settle on me. “What do we do, Phoenix?”

“Our best,” I say. “That’s all any of us can ever do.”

A diamond tear drips down her cheek. She shivers against me. And with that tear, I realize how much she’s holding in.

“Hey,” I whisper. “You’re strong enough to get through this.”

“If you’re talking about my son’s possible death, then you’re wrong.”

She shakes her head and wriggles out of my arms. Turning away, she strides towards the yawning hole where a window once was. The breeze catches the edge of her dress, playing with it to reveal a slice of pale ankle in the moonlight.

“I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you meant,” she says flatly, keeping her back to me. She wraps her arms around her body and hugs herself. “I’m just… I feel so lost.”

I come up behind her, as close as I can get without actually hugging her myself. She tenses slightly, but she doesn’t turn around.

“I don’t even know why I tried to stop you today,” she admits. “Don’t hate me for saying so.”

“I don’t hate you.”

Elyssa glances back at me over her shoulder. “I just… I kept thinking about what a spontaneous attack might mean. What if they’d killed Theo in retaliation or to save their own skin? What if you had been injured or worse in the fight? If you go in there without preparing… if I end up losing both of you…”

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