Page 114 of Silenced

I think of the shotgun beneath my papa’s bed, one she’d never have tossed out.

I think of my mom’s inherent dislike of Harvey, a dislike he was aware of…

“No, I’m not worried about her but having someone check in would be nice.”

“Send some guards up there,” Nikolai orders, but something in his expression…

Dmitri signs a couple words I don’t understand—Russian sign language?—that has Nikolai tipping his chin in agreement.

“It’s rude to use another language in front of a nonspeaker,” I grumble, but the relief that my mom will be safe goes to war with reality as, uneasily, I say, “You’re spending a lot of money on this.”

Dmitri beams a charming smile at me that I don’t trust. “It doesn’t matter.”

That smile has me demanding, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

The moment I utter the words, I know what a dumb question that was.

There’s plenty they’re not telling me.

Still, I freeze when a thought occurs to me. “You don’t think the Albanians will go after her, do you?”

Dmitri shakes his head. “Not at all.”

Nikolai’s fingers fly aggressively as he releases a soft growl. “We’ll make sure she’s protected,solnyshko. Fromhimor the Albanians.

“As for Rundel, he deserves to die for what he put you through. And I made you a promise.”

Peering between us, Dmitri asks a question that only someone who considers himself a son to a man like Nikolai would ever say out loud: “What kind of promise?”

My cheeks flush a tad. “That he’d feed Harvey to Vasily alive.”

Grinning, Dmitri whistles. “Hardcore. I love it. And you look like Anne of Green Gables in these summery dresses he’s got you wearing too.” He says something in Russian that has Nikolai flicking his fingers at him in the universal sign of, ‘Fuck off.’

Chuckling, Dmitri drawls, “Have you met Vasily yet?”

“No.” I grimace at the prospect.

His smile is deceptively angelic. “Don’t believe what they say about running in zigzags to get away from gators.” If that’s meant to be reassuring, he failed. At my scowl, he gets up and salutes me. “I have business to attend and alligator chow to source. It was a pleasure meeting you, Cassiopeia.”

“Likewise,” I grouse, not bothering to watch the younger man go as I turn to Nikolai. “I don’t mean to be such trouble.”

He tilts down his shades. “Who said you were?”

“I mean, you’ve gotmenon this.”

How many did he command anyway?

“And? What else would they be doing aside from scratching their asses and waiting for orders?”

When he puts it like that…

His hand settles on my thigh, fingers tipping inward. After weeks of this treatment, I’m getting used to his touches. Can translate them better than I can his Russian.

“What did Dmitri say?”

He merely arches a brow.

I huff. “At the end. He said something in Russian.”

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