Page 68 of Mountain Daddy

But Maksim is already moving toward the door. He pauses beside me, leans close enough that only I can hear.

"He's a good man, Lilly. The best I've ever known. And he would die before letting harm come to either of you."

Then he's gone, leaving me alone with Nikolai.

"You can't do this," I whisper.

"Do what?"

"Pick up my kid without telling me."

Nikolai steps closer. “It’ll never happen again,” he says with a finality that tells me he means it.

17

NIKOLAI

The kid moves like me.

I watch from across the small town square. Chleo's chasing pigeons near the fountain, arms outstretched like he's trying to fly with them.

But it's not the running that gets me. It's the way he stops. Sudden. Complete. Like someone flipped a switch. Like he tried amusement and decided there are better things in the world to focus on.

That's pure Vetrov.

My father used to do that. I do that. Maksim's commented on it a dozen times—how I can go from motion to absolute stillness in a heartbeat.

Chleo tilts his head, studies the carvings on the water fountain, traces his fingers along the edges. God, his intensity. His focus.

He’s a serious kid. Too serious for five years old.

Just like I was.

Lilly sits on a bench twenty feet away, reading something on her phone. She’s probably working, that woman.

Always fighting to keep her head above water.

She doesn’t see me. Doesn’t notice I’m watching her kid.

Chleo, with eyes just like mine.

With hair just like mine.

With expressions just like mine.

She doesn’t see it. Doesn’t notice the way Chleo’s brows pull tight when he’s focused. The little crease that forms—same as mine—when I’m planning something sharp.

It’s there. Right between his eyes.

My mark.

The kid now charges after another cluster of birds. This time, he laughs when they take flight. Pure joy.

That laugh? That's all Lilly. Sweet and infectious.

Maybe that's why she ran. Maybe she saw the monster in me and decided her son,our son, deserved better.

She was right.

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