Page 113 of Crimson Tears

Cillian reaches out to punch him in the chest, but Boris dances back gracefully.

“Sorry, Sweetheart.” He reaches back and palms the back of his neck. “I-I just don’t trust anyone with you right now.”

I understand that. He feels responsible even if I have told him a million times he isn’t. It might help him to talk to Dr. K. I know I already feel better today because of it.

I make a mental note to ask him to join me in my next session as I walk up to him and stand on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“It’s okay. Let’s go home?”

He sighs, his whole body seeming to relax.

“Yes.Home.”

The fact that he agrees so quickly that mine and Boris’ house is home makes my stomach flip. I slide one hand in his and the other in Boris’ as we walk back to the car.

The men who hurt me are dead, and I have the loves of my life on either side of me. I know the universe is about to test us. But right now, I decide to thank it for everything I have, because this feeling is better than anything I’ve ever felt.

Chapter 32

I am in my office, solidifying some plans for our trip. We were able to narrow down the location of the children to Norway. Lev has been working on finding a way to track the kids, but he is too nervous to scan the area with his drones and risk them being moved again.

According to the information we received from Gray, it has only been two or three days since they moved to their latest destination, and that will be our best bet in finding them now.

Nessa walks into the room, looking at her desk beside mine and the paperwork that has started to pile up. I don’t want herto feel stressed, but I also know if I tried to take any of the tasks from her to lighten her load, she would not appreciate that. She also likes to do things in a very specific order and says I never do it right.

“What are you working on?” she asks as I pull her into my lap. I take a minute to breathe her in and savor her body against mine. We sleep pressed against each other, but sometimes I need a little bit more to feel at peace.

“Just adding the final touches on a house I bought us.”

She turns in my hold, clearly feeling better because her movements are swift and she doesn’t flinch.

“You bought us a house? We already have a house.”

I cannot tell if she is happy or worried. “I bought a house in Norway; it’s not far from where we believe the kids are being held. I figured it would take some time searching, and we would like to have a place to call our own while there. Plus, I did not want to have to take these traumatized children to a warehouse of some sorts until we could get them back home.”

She looks at my screen and the property I just bought then back at me. “How many bedrooms?”

I open the tab so she can click through the pictures. “It was an old hotel, a smaller one. It has thirty rooms, but some of them have been transformed into dining and kitchen areas.”

It was set up similar to a bed and breakfast, so there is already a homey feel to it. But what’s nice is it has a pool inside and outside, plus a kitchen large enough that we can cook for a crowd. Some of the rooms come fully furnished, but I am having some of them set up with more than one bed.

I cannot imagine what these children have experienced. From my discussion with Dr. K, I learned that they will likely want to stay in small groups, and giving them the freedom to make their own choices will help them trust us more.

If all goes according to plan, we will let them choose their own rooms and try not to have set meal times; instead, we will keep food available around the clock so they can decide when they want to eat. I will also have a chef on staff with training in multicultural cuisines to give them a taste of home. Or at least something exciting to try.

I will have the whole home stocked with everything they could need from toiletries to clothing. After the unavoidable chaos of having traumatized children adjust to a new environment, Evie and Lev will work on finding them safer and more permanent places to go.

As much as I would like to believe that all of them were stolen, we will have to carefully vet families to ensure they did not sell them to forgive some kind of debt.

“Boris,” Nessa grabs my arm around her and squeezes, “this is perfect.”

I can see the tears forming in her eyes as my chin rests on her shoulder. She is what is perfect. My incredible fighter who refuses to back down.

Nessa reminds me of Alexi in that way. He never once stayed down, not even when he broke his ankle in a fight. He simply stood on his other leg until he knocked his opponent out.

That is where their similarities end though. Where Alexi is all sharp edges and a firm hand, Nessa has a gentle touch and an empathetic soul. She likes to be spoiled with affection, even though she complains about it. I think deep down all my girl craves is to be loved, and that I can give her in abundance.

“I love you,Lisichka. More than you will ever know.”

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