Page 67 of Wrath
He did, and the screwdriver stayed put.You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.“This is incredible. But do we have to sync every time we need it to stay?”
“No. Just once,” AIMI replied. “Pull with a firm grip, and the suit suction will release. Hold it back there and it will stay.”
Wyatt pulled the screwdriver, and it came off. He pressed it again, and it held. Wow. He turned to Sloan, and she smiled back.
“Who came up with this?”
“Actually,” Flint said, retrieving his screwdriver and walking back to the bench. “The base code for that operation was Sloan’s.”
“It was?” She seemed as surprised as Wyatt. “I don’t remember.”
“That’s because you didn’t finish it.”
“Oh.”
“See?” Wyatt punched his sister lightly on the arm. “You’ve been doing better than you think.”
A small smile tipped his way. “So… Misha, hey?”
He fiddled with his sleeve.
“Yeah, Misha.”
“She’s the one?”
He nodded. “I should probably go and find her.”
“You should probably give her space, bras.”
His gaze snapped up. “What?”
“Well, you were a bit of an alpha-hole before. Maybe let her chill with her girl for a bit.”
“Maybe you’re right.” He nodded. He was still pissed about her volunteering to go back to The Kremlin. In his mind, there was no other solution, but to keep Misha locked up in this place, safe. And that wasn’t right. “I think we need some space.”
Thirty-One
A week later,Misha still lived in the guest apartment at Lazarus House. Parker had forbidden her to open yoga classes, and her family were still on an all-expense paid vacation to an unknown location. Wyatt had tried to soften the fact that she was in a virtual prison by delivering her a box of belongings he’d collected from her city apartment. She should be grateful for the help, but the overwhelming sense of helplessness grew inside her.
As instructed by Parker, she’d contacted Dimitri and explained her fake situation. Dimitri was suspicious, and at first had threatened her life, but she’d expected that. She also expected the second time she called and he threatened her, but the thing was, he kept taking her calls. After the third and fourth time, she finally got him to agree to a meeting at the club.
Now, it was the morning before the big meeting, and Misha had just showered and dressed. There was nothing else to do but wait and pore miserably over the items Wyatt had delivered days ago.
She sat at the table, staring at a photograph of her mother and father embracing. They were so happy together. She probably romanticized things, but she rarely remembered them arguing. A vague memory popped into her mind of bath time when Misha was young. Her mother was giving a speech about how, being a girl, she had to respect herself, and that no decent man should ask her to do things she wasn’t comfortable with. Looking back, Misha had always assumed it was the obligatory stranger-danger speech, but now, she thought maybe her mother had been in a tough relationship before her father. She was too young to pick up all the signs, but she had picked up enough.
As far as Misha knew, her parents were the loves of each other’s lives. After her mother died, her father had never re-married, or even dated. But for the years they had together, their love had burned like the sun, warming everyone in their orbit.
Her stomach clenched, reminding her she’d not eaten breakfast. God, she’d kill for a walk down to her favorite coffee shop. But today was the day. She had to stay out of sight. Her nerves were on edge and she was feeling sick in the stomach at the thought of seeing Dimitri again. She knew she’d convinced everyone that she had what it took to get back into his good books, but deep inside, doubt had set in. Dimitri was unpredictable. She used to think she knew his motive—that he wanted her in his control, but there was a very good chance Wyatt was right, and Dimitri would kill her on the spot.
Thinking of Wyatt caused another layer of apprehension to coat her insides. Wyatt had checked on her every morning at nine, and every morning he’d asked her not to do what she planned to do. When she’d held her ground, he’d left.
She should be okay with his avoidance of her, but after they’d made love in the rain, and he brought the heat of the sun, Misha had dropped her guard. She’d fallen for him. So hard. It had been good—maybe too good.
Misha put the picture frame down.
God. What issues must she have if her relationships lasted no longer than a day?
A lump formed in her throat for the millionth time that week. Misha pushed thoughts of Wyatt from her mind and set to work on the mystery location of her family. It was a fun puzzle she could focus on. Since her phone was still in her locker at the club, Wyatt had called them for her. They weren’t allowed to disclose their location to anyone. Griffin had said it was safer that way, but their absence left a gaping hole in her life.
