Page 41 of Corrupted Guilt

Finished, I take the glass and watch her chest rise and fall as it should, she can breathe again. If only for a moment.

Quickly her deep breaths give way to coughing sobs. Tears swelled in her eyes, and I held her by the shoulders as she tried to push me away, then twisted away. She fought me off like a flailing drowning woman, but I held her tight, contained her. The more she struggled, the more firmly I held her, until she was gathered against my chest in a nerveless bundle. Trying to swallow back the shuddering sounds that came from her throat only made them worse.

“You’re safe,” I told her. “Easy… you’re safe. I won’t let go.”

Now she was no longer trying to escape but fighting to press closer and hide against me. Her arms clutched around my neck, her face against my throat as she sobbed too hard to breathe.

I hold her like that for I don’t know how long. Until she finally fell asleep and let go of my neck. The tenderness I was feeling for her and her rocking sobs that finally turned into sleep, was turning into hardness as I thought about the phone calls I had to make.

One to my men to check for casualties.

One for Viktor to let him know Katya is safe.

I placed a pillow in Katya’s arms to hug as if it was my neck and leave her there in her bed.

I walk out and place a call on my cell, “Hey Viktor,” I say as he answers.

“Yuri? My god, are you alright, is Katya okay, is she with you?”

“Yes, we’re fine. So, you heard?”

“It’s on the news, I could only guess from the descriptions it was Bratva business. Tell me where you are, I need to see you both.”

“We’re fine, but she’s a little traumatized. I’m at one of your safe houses but leaving soon. My place is a fortress, you couldn’t even get in there. I wanted to tell you that there were too many men out there for Petya— he’s small-time, with a small-time crew. This crew was big and professional and the furthest thing from small-time. Any idea who’s backing him? It’s somebody big with a big war chest is all I know. Can you investigate that for me?”

“Sure, sure. But Yuri, bring Katya home. She’ll be safe with me.”

“She’s safer with me. My guess is whoever Petya is teamed up with, they’re going after you next. They missed their shot at Katya, to bring you to your knees, make you capitulate, but now that they’ve missed —and lost so many men—they have to go after you now, or risk never being able to do it. That’s what I would do after missing today.”

“You might be right. Please stay at the safe house for a while longer— I might be safer there too.”

“Can’t do it. You made her my priority, that’s what I’m doing. Plus, we don’t want all our eggs in one basket, then Petya will come here for us again.”

“Ok, ok. Update me soon, when you move, okay?” He begs.

I hung up on him.

17. Katya

I woke up slowly, vague awareness creeping in until a warm breath tickled my ear, then spoke softly, “You’re safe. Rest against me.”

My eyes flew open. “What… where…?”

I found myself staring up into a pair of cold gray eyes, like dirty ice chips. But there was something tender behind them. I felt a pang in my chest at the realization that Yuri was holding me in his arms, like a newborn, and had all night. I had cried in his arms, tired myself out, and he held me while I slept.

Yuri’s hand slid into my tumbled hair, his fingertips finding my scalp and stroking gently as if I was a cat.

“Tell me what happened,” he said softly.

I couldn’t. Not even close. The effort to say ‘No,’ or to shake my head was beyond me. There was no way I could tell him the overwhelming emotions I was feeling. It was one big emotion, not separated into discreet feelings I could define.

But his hand kept circling my head and playing with my hair, “Tell me,”he repeated, insistent.

I was too exhausted to argue, to refuse him. “It was my fault,” I said. A hot tear leaked from the corner of my eye. “I am the reason Tasha is dead. Just like Dmitry.”

Yuri was silent, waiting patiently for me to continue.

The words came out in a rush, the dam bursting. “I drove Dmitry to it, we had fought but if I’d been kind instead of bitchy, Dmitry would still be alive.” I broke off with a wretched sob, “Isaid he wouldn’t be able to drive. He had been drinking the night before, and he still wasn’t sobered up.”

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