Page 17 of Scarlet Sins

“Don’t,” I whisper. “We need to concentrate on the fact Sasha’s fine and so is Ilya.”

“He’s in?—”

“And he’s going to be fine, Demyan. Can we go home?”

He frowns again. “Erin.”

“The doctor said I could go.”

“Well,” he says, “what are we waiting for?”

My heart’swild and speeding in my chest as we step inside the door of the mansion. Suddenly, a squeal lights up the air and a tiny bullet speeds toward me.

“Mama!”

Sasha launches himself at me so hard and with so much enthusiasm, I stumble back, only to be caught by Demyan.

I start crying and hug my baby back.

He looks up at me, eyes glistening and sparking with love and accusations. “Mama! You left! Bad Mama!” And his arms immediately go up.

I lift him and he hugs me tight again.

“I missed you, Mama. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Sasha.” I rain kisses all over him and he wiggles and his sticky—someone gave him candy—fingers grab at my hair and then my face, pinching and poking the bruises.

“Mama,” he says in a shocked whisper. “You hurted your face.”

“I’m okay, baby, I promise. And I’ll never leave you again.”

He nods. “Ainna and Oga gave me candy.” Then he leans in and whispers, “So did Dino.”

“It’s past your bedtime,” Demyan says, beating me to saying it. “Mama’s going to rest, Sasha, but Alina and Olga and I will?—”

“No,” I say. “I want to.”

Demyan gives me a hard look. “Okay, fine.”

I hug my son close and catch the smile of Alina, her sadness softened by the clear relief for me and the happiness that Sasha’s happy.

I climb the stairs. This isn’t home, but… but it feels like it. The little boy sweetness of Sasha, made sweeter by the candy he’s managed to gorge on, no doubt, fills me, soothes me, and I just hold him tight as he holds me, his head over my shoulder. He’s babbling away, and I’m listening to the sound of him, not the words. I’m listening to the beat of his heart as he wriggles, pulling my hair as he talks.

I catch the word Dino.

My heart thumps.

Demyan’s clearly behind us, and his low reply comes, making Sasha squeal with laughter.

When I reach his room, I set him down and look at him. “Baby, you’re sticky and dirty. Bathtime before bed.”

The joy of my return vanishes as his little face turns dark with thunder. “But I don’t wanna, Mama.”

“That’s too bad. You’ve got ducky to play with in the bath. And we can add bubbles.”

He tilts his head. “Bubbles?” Then he shrieks. “Bubbles!”

Bathtime ends up with me soaked and Demyan, too. After Sasha’s dried and dressed and baby teeth brushed, he’s ready for bed, but he’s not interested in leaving my arms.

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