Page 39 of Disguised as Love

“You aren’t empty,” I grunted out. “You’re full of goddamn life. It’s sharp and beautiful and mesmerizing. But I can’t afford to watch it.”

“Because you’re afraid you’ll end up like him. The bodyguard who lost his life,” she said, realization dawning.

“He was my dad.” As soon as the words were out, I wanted to take them back. I’d never volunteered that nugget to anyone but the cops who’d shown up that night and to the FBI when they’d asked about it at my interview. And yet, it poured out of me as if I’d been waiting for years to tell her.

Her eyes grew wide again. “You’re making it difficult to not feel sorry for you.”

“I didn’t tell you for that reason.” It was ridiculous that I was telling her at all, but I forced us away from those memories and back to our present. “I told you so you’d know how important it is for us to keep our eye on the ball.”

“What is the ball? All I see is an agent who’s chasing a shadow. Do you even know what you’re looking for? What you need while you’re here?”

“Yano in cuffs. Evidence to stop the trafficking of guns to the U.S. and South America.”

She pulled away from me, and the loss of her heat against my palm and her gaze on my skin felt like a tragedy. Like a song my mother hadn’t yet written.

She lay back against the pillow, closing her eyes. Her hair was sprawled about her, making her look like a princess who needed to be awakened with a kiss. I’d just started to lie back down when her hand reached out to grab my arm.

“If I help you… If I find evidence here… Can you get my mom into the U.S.?” she asked.

If she turned on them?her brother and the Volkovs?she’d always be at risk. I might be able to get the State Department to put them into Witness Protection, but I wasn’t sure I could get a deal on the table quick enough.

“I can try,” I answered because I wouldn’t lie to her.

“I can’t leave her here with all of them. She won’t survive. She’ll give in to the pills and alcohol, and she’ll be dead before Christmas.”

“If not the U.S., we’ll find somewhere to stash her.”

Raisa turned her head to meet mine with fire and determination filling them again. “No stashing. She needs Georgie and me. She needs family. That’s how you made it through, right? Your mother and you. You had each other.”

It was true. We’d had each other and our music, and we’d had Nan. She’d forced us to live our lives in a way that had gotten a tiny, infinitesimal bit easier every day until we could act as if we were whole when really the loss still traveled with us.

“We’ll figure it out. I promise,” I said, and I meant it. If not the State Department, I’d find another way, even if it meant finding a forger to fake the papers myself. I had enough connections from my time in multiple undercover ops. I could make it happen. All I knew was that looking into her eyes, seeing the loss and hope and fear and sadness, I was desperate to make it come true. I wanted to see what Raisa Leskov looked like with only joy filling her. Joy and maybe lust.

I lay back down, knowing I was absolutely and royally fucked.

Raisa

DEAD END ROAD

“But the sun don’t dry nothing.

And the waterfalls keep coming,

And tears keep breaking through.”

Performed by Alicia Keys

Written by Augello-Cook / McIntosh / Ball

I didn’t think I’d sleep, but I woke to the sound of Cruz on the phone—a low voice that was hard to distinguish coming through the open secret door between our rooms. Sunlight was streaming in through the slit between the heavy curtains, but that didn’t mean much this time of year. I pulled at my phone I’d left charging on the side table to see it was six in the morning. That meant it was ten o’clock at night in D.C., but I needed to hear Georgie’s voice.

I sat up and dialed.

“I’ve been worried about you,” Georgie said. “Are you okay?”

“It’s so screwed up here,” I said, my voice cracking.

“Mom said not to come. She said she didn’t want me there, but Petya was good to me, and I want to be there for you and Mom. Mac and I both do.”

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