Page 75 of Stolen By The Bratva King

“Nechego proshchat’,” Josef whispers, his eyes shining. “Ya tebya lyublyu.”

“That’s a lot of words,” I whisper. “What did he say?”

Leon sniffs and gathers himself but doesn’t move away from his uncle’s embrace.

“He said, ‘Brave nephew, nothing to forgive. I love you.’”

My husband’s frown lines smooth before my eyes, as though tension he’s carried for years is finally falling away.

I see the young man Leon was before trauma tore him to pieces and led him to abandon the version of himself his parents raised, the little boy who knew love and drew strength from it.

Josef seems tired already, and I wonder at the ease with which most people communicate. There must be a million things this man wants to say, all choked by the frustration brought on by a blood clot in his brain.

How delicate we are, how finely calibrated. It takes so little to alter us permanently, if not kill us, and we three know that as well as anyone.

Leon excuses himself, the emotional weight too heavy to hold, and goes to speak to the staff. He wants assurances that Josef is safe here, but I doubt he’ll get them, and with Demyan already installed at my father’s home, what’s one more patient?”

I risk moving into Leon’s seat so I can sit closer to Josef. He drops his head and turns wearily to me.

“Yes?” I say gently, leaning close. “Do you need something? Don’t tire yourself more by talking.”

His hand comes up fast, and he clutches my shoulder, his face close to mine.

I could easily free myself, but I don’t want to hurt him, and my thoughts race.

Is he okay?I don’t mind if he spits or bites or whatever—Leon warned me he might—but I hope he won’t? I thought he liked me. What is he?—

Josef presses a kiss to my cheek. His lips are dry, and the hand that holds me is cold, but the warmth in his heart is unmistakable.

“Thank you,” he says carefully. He puts his palm on his chest. “Love saves everything. Saved you. Will save him.”

I wait in the car while Leon says his goodbyes. I’m sure he and Josef will have much to talk about when all this business is over, but now is not the time.

Eventually, Leon descends the steps and climbs into the driver’s seat. “I asked the staff and Josef, but no one has been to see him,” he says.

“You aren’t worried someone could have followed us?” I ask.

Leon shakes his head as he starts the engine. “I was careful to take a convoluted route here so we wouldn’t be tailed. No one followed us. Besides, Josef knows nothing about my life anymore, and even if he did, he’d be neither willing nor able to give any information to my enemies. Everyone who hates me already knows that, which is why no one bothers him.”

“Why don’t you let Demyan look after him at my father’s house?”

Leon smiles. “I asked him, but he declined. He said he likes it here, and if anyone comes for him, he’ll do what he did before.”

I frown. “He was attacked and badly beaten, wasn’t he?”

“Sure was.” Leon puts the car in gear and pulls out of the lot. “But he messed the guys up before they got the better of him. One lost an eye, and the other got Josef’s letter opener right through his throat. Both were dead before sunset though, courtesy of me and a shallow grave in the Catskills.”

I sigh, my breath shaky. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to Leon’s ability to murder people as casually as I might throw a paper cup in the trash.

The more we talk about his life, the more I realize that my husband is a bad man, but not as bad as the scum he goes up against.

As moral codes go, it’s not ideal, but I’ll take what I can get.

40

Emery

Thirty minutes is hardly a long drive, but my head is pounding when we arrive at Leon’s building. I long for my own bed in my apartment, but Leon is having none of it.

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