Page 6 of Emerald Vices

“Are you with me, lastochka?”

I blink a couple of times before squeaking out a meek, “Yes.”

His eyes flash again, and I finally understand what I saw the first time: relief.

Despite the fact that I… did what I did. And then ran away instead of staying put to see if he was alright.

I curdle with shame. “Are you going to punish me?” I blurt before my courage fails.

“No.”

I draw in a sharp breath. “Kill me?”

“Jesus, little bird,” he sighs. “Do you really think I would hurt you?”

“I hurt you.”

“Do you plan on shooting me again?”

Startled, my eyes dart to his face. “Of course not.”

“Then there’s no reason to mention what happened, as far as I’m concerned.” My gaze flits to his arm, but I can’t tell how badly he’s injured while he’s wearing a trench coat.

“I shot you, Andrey. At the very least, you should be angry with me.”

I think I see a flash of anger skyrocket across his eyes, but I blink once and it’s gone. He looks calm as a glacier. “I’m not angry.”

Frowning, I lean away from him. “Then there’s a catch.”

He leans forward all at once and takes my face in his hands. I freeze, unable to tear my gaze away from his. I feel his thumb drag a half-moon arch against my cheek as his eyes say something I don’t understand, but that I feel in my soul.

Then he drops both hands and gets slowly to his feet. “Come now. It’s time to get you home.”

I stay seated. “Nothing’s changed, Andrey.”

He responds by extending his hand to me.

My body is aching. So is my head. Every part of me is spent. So when he says nothing and that hand stays outstretched, I do the only thing I can do: I take it.

We drive back to the manor in silence. He doesn’t mention Yelena and neither do I. But her ghost lurks between us, taking up space and oxygen, reminding me that she’s not leaving anytime soon.

A few lone stars twinkle above me as I get out of the Escalade and walk into the manor beside Andrey.

“I know you’re tired, but we have to make sure the baby is okay.”

With one hand on the small of my back, he steers me upstairs to a gorgeous guest bedroom on the second floor. We pass no one and I’m grateful for that. The thought of seeing even Mila or Katya feels overwhelming.

“Dr. Abdulov will be up soon,” Andrey informs me. “He’s just seeing to Misha first.”

That gets my attention. “Misha,” I whisper, drenched with new shame.

I rushed past him when I ran. I remember his shocked, ashen face. The way his body teetered to the side as though he no longer had any control of it.

“He must hate me, too.”

“He wants to know that you’re safe. Just like I do.”

My chest constricts so tightly I have to fight to breathe. Luckily, I’m spared from having to respond when the door opens and the doctor walks in.

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