Page 70 of Disguised as Love

“If my armor breaks,

I’ll fuse it back together.”

Performed by Linkin Park

Written by Delson / Bennington / Farrell /

Green / Hahn / Shinoda / Bourdon

Cruz had me wrapped in his arms with me between his legs as the boat continued down the Neva toward the harbor. The tour guide’s voice droned on and on about the bridges and the buildings on the shoreline, but my body was still in flight mode, blood pounding fiercely as my mind replayed the scenes at the church and procession. The strange, twisted image of my father melted into the fire and screeching metal of the explosions. Worry and terror coursed through me, thinking of Mama and Malik, hoping beyond hope they were safe. That Ilia and Ito-san would truly be able to shield my family as this giant man would me.

I went to pull my phone out to text them and realized it was in the black jacket I’d left on the floor of the department store. Tears filled my eyes. How was I going to find out if they were okay? Six o’clock seemed like a lifetime away. My stomach tightened, wondering if my suggestion of the boathouse for our meet was truly a smart move. Would Rurik remember it? We hadn’t been there in years. Papa used to take us out on a boat during Sail Fest when we were little, and we’d had a small yacht docked at the pier, but I wasn’t even sure if we still owned it.

I turned my eyes to Cruz’s and whispered, “What happened?”

He didn’t have to ask what I meant.

“Yano. We’d gotten wind of missing C-4 stolen from a SEAL team, and we had good intel suggesting he’d purchased it, but I didn’t think…” His voice choked. He shook his head. “I fucking missed it.”

It amazed me that this man thought he should know everything. That somehow it was his responsibility to be aware of and stop every plot and plan. It would be impossible, even with a thousand men and maybe even a bit of magic.

“Why would he do this?” I asked, trying to bring Cruz back from the sea of self-blame to the facts. To why we were here and now running for our lives.

“It’s what he tried to do with the Kyodaina as well. Get rid of the old guard and bring in the new with a bang,” Cruz said. “It’s why I suspected he and Malik were responsible for your father’s death.”

He said the last piece gently as if to shield me from the truth he’d already shoved in my face days ago. I shook my head.

“Malik insists it wasn’t him. He insists he and Papa had mended their rifts. They had plans… Papa was supporting Malik’s new ventures.” It was my turn for my voice to break apart.

My brows drew together as I pictured Papa in the coffin again?the features that had felt off. As if he could read my mind, Cruz asked, “What happened at your father’s casket?”

I shook my head because I didn’t know yet. I was afraid of fanning the hope that had lit like a tiny, single flame in a dark cave into something more. “He didn’t look right,” was all I could say.

People were watching us surreptitiously. The make-out session we’d held as the boat had pulled away had drawn eyes. Cruz rested his chin on my shoulder, nose nuzzling my neck and earlobe, sending hot trails down me and continuing the charade of us being nothing more than two lovers exploring the city. An ache twisted inside me. I wished we could have been exactly what we appeared.

“At my father’s funeral…” Cruz’s voice was deep, full of emotion, like it had been the night he’d first told me about his dad and the fact that he’d lost his life protecting his mom. “I thought he looked like one of those famous wax figures. I thought it was fake. I thought maybe he’d jump from behind the curtain and scream, ‘Surprise.’ It would have been the very worst kind of joke to have played, but I would have forgiven him because I would have had him back.”

Maybe Cruz was right. Maybe Malik’s reaction had been because I’d been playing with Papa’s face…touching and turning my dead father in his coffin. My stomach lurched, and I looked down at the hand that had touched him. The gloves were gone, left behind with the black jacket. Cruz saw me staring at them and engulfed mine with his, rubbing them as if to warm them up.

“Do you know the area where we’ll dock?” Cruz asked.

I nodded. It had been years, and I was sure things had changed, but the harbor was still the harbor.

“We need to get off the streets. They’ll be combing them. They’ll have sent out alerts to every person in their command from street level on up,” he explained. “I need to get ahold of my team. Where’s the boathouse you talked about?”

“At the yacht club on Petrovsky Island.”

It meant traversing a couple of bridges and two islands to get to it, which also meant trusting ourselves to a car service or a taxi. I shivered as the entire scope of the day started to descend on me. Volkov’s threat was real. We would never be safe. Not here. Not in Russia. Maybe nowhere. I put my face in my hands, trying not to cry, trying to hold it together a little longer. Father had been right. I should never have come home. Not even for his funeral.

Cruz’s strong arms tightened around me, and his lips found my temple. A gentle kiss that was far from helpful in that it shattered my nerves and my soul a little bit more.

“We’re going to get through this, little one. I promised you I’d see you safely back to the States, and I mean to keep that promise.” His voice was low and full of the assurances he was making, like a vow he was pledging.

“He’ll never stop coming after us,” I said quietly, meeting his gaze. “Never.”

“We’ll figure it out. I swear on everything I love that he will never hurt you.”

God, did I want to believe it.

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