Page 77 of Scarlet Secrets

He nods slowly. “Fine. I’ll let you roam around the house. Within reason. No snooping, and no going outside. In fact, you’re never to step outside without me there. Even if I’m home, you stay in unless I’m physically there.”

“I can live with that. I promise not only won’t I run, but I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“See that you are.”

He motions me out and pulls the door shut behind us, but he doesn’t activate the keypad lock.

I have no idea if it’s a test or if there’s nothing of interest in there.

But in all honesty, Sasha’s the only thing of interest. And if I ran, if a sniper didn’t kill me, then we’d be on the run for the rest of our lives and that’s no life for my son.

Besides, I think as Demyan heads off, the only person under any kind of threat is me. Sasha is safe. Loved. Adored.

I make my way back to his room where he’s sleeping and I kick off my shoes and climb on the bed, curling around Sasha.

I’ll do anything for my son.

Including making a pact with the devil.

Chapter Nineteen

DEMYAN

Erin’s goneinto Sasha’s room. I could have told her not to, but I’ve let her out, and doing that would be cruel, yeah, but also completely futile.

I don’t think she’s going to run, but she’s not locked up and now she won’t be kept from her child.

Choosing my clothes, I dress. The monitor on the dresser in my room—Ilya got a bunch of them to scatter through the house, so I don’t have to remember to take one with me when Sasha’s not with me—is on.

She talks to him in soft words and murmurs and he makes a sound, then says sleepily, “Mama” like it’s shorthand for the word love.

“I’m here, baby. Go back to sleep.”

Then she sings to him, her voice sweet if slightly out of tune. I don’t know the song, but I find myself humming along, slowing down, until she stops and when I leave my room, I almost open the door to his room and peek in.

But I think she’s asleep, too. And for some unknown reason, I don’t want to wake her.

I continue on to Alina’s room.

Max’s funeral is today. I can already feel her pain and misery radiating outward, clogging up the air, and I can’t do a thing. A part of me wants to just go. But that’s so fucking cowardly I disgust myself. I knock lightly on her door.

My heart breaks when I see her. Alina is on her bed, hands clasped, wearing a simple black dress. She’s so pale and drawn and diminished under the weight of her grief, like she’s already buried part of her light with Max.

I cross and crouch in front of her, taking her hands. “Angel.”

“This dress is horrible.”

“It isn’t. It’s what it represents.”

She doesn’t look at me. “I had this other one picked out, so pretty, a silk sundress with little cherries printed on it, the skirt swirls just so.”

I’ve seen her in it. But I wait.

“Max got it for me. And I thought… thought I’d wear it for him because he loved it.” She blinks hard, voice dropping to a whisper. “But if I wore it, I couldn’t wear it again and—” Her gaze hits mine. “I’m not sure I can do this. I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

I look at her. “This is a fucking horrible day and you just need to get through it. That’s all. It’s not going to be nice, but it’s something you have to do. And Alina, you can do it. You’re stronger than you realize. You’ll do it for Max and you’ll do it because you need closure.”

She swallows. “Demyan…”

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