Page 90 of Cruel Love

I flick the switch by the door, illuminating the racks of long guns attached to each wall. Dozens of black ammo boxes sit nestled beneath the cabinets. We were never this armed back when I was head of security. It was never this necessary. Having our home invaded changed our minds.

I bend over, grabbing a long, black case off the shelf on the far wall and setting it down on the counter beneath the lights. With a quick flick, I release the locks and open it, finding the disassembled rifle inside. Fox will want to inspect this himself, I’m sure.

After a moment, I sense soft, slow-moving feet drift in behind me like a cool winter’s fog. She places her palms on my back, instantly making my stiff shoulder blades relax downward. Her touch, warm and comforting. That’s one of my wife’s many talents. She always knows exactly what touch I need and when.

The door closes behind us thanks to a well-trained guard.

“That girl,” Sofia says. “Lucy.”

“What about her?” I ask.

Her fingers drift down my spine. “She has the same name as our son,” she says. “As you.”

“Light?”

Sofia inches to my side and nods beneath the white bulbs above our heads. “It’s almost like she was meant to be here.”

I turn back to the case, closing it. “If you believe in that sort of thing, I suppose.”

“What’s the matter, lyubov’ moya?” she asks, smiling. “Do you not believe in miracles?”

“I believe in preparation and strategy,” I answer. “The rest is just luck.”

Her brow arches. “Is this what happened to the little boy in the garden shed with kindness in his eyes?” She reaches upward and brushes the hair from my forehead.

I exhale through my nose. “Sofia...”

“You sound like a Zappia, Luka,” she says, her voice harder.

I release the case, shoving it aside as I turn to her. “I do this for you,” I say.

“I know that.”

“Because of what they did to you and our family.”

“I know that, too.”

“For Rosalie,” I say. “For my father and grandfather.”

Sofia gazes at me for another silent moment before resting her warm palm on my cheek. “Wars are fought in moments,” she says. “It took the two of us a single moment in time to create our son and that moment echoes until now. If one second of that had gone differently...”

I sigh beneath her touch. “Sofia.”

“There would be no us. There would be no Lucian.”

“I know,” I whisper, turning to kiss her palm.

She eases closer to me and I slide one arm around her waist. “Trust in them,” she says. “They were brought to us on this day for a reason.”

I bow my head, resting it on her shoulder and she brushes her delicate fingers along the back of my neck.

“I’ll believe that you believe,” I say.

Sofia chuckles, her breath tickling my ear. “That’s good enough, I suppose,” she says.

She cups my face, drawing my head up to kiss the edge of my mouth. I kiss her back and pull her closer, wanting so much more of her.

“I think about that moment,” I say. “Every day.”

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