Page 137 of Toxic Salvation
Yana’s eyes bulge with rage. She springs from her chair and lunges forward, grabbing Luka by the ear and twisting hard. He drops to his knees, his face contorting in pain. “How dare you speak to me that way, you little shit? How dare you?—”
“Yana!” I roar, stepping into their line of sight. “Get your hands off him. Now.”
Her eyes narrow when she sees me, but she doesn’t release Luka. “He’s my son.”
“I’m not going to ask you again.”
With a sneer, she shoves Luka away from her as if he’s something disgusting she found on her shoe. “You have no right?—”
“I have every right,” I cut her off. “You had rights, too, until you decided to put your hands on my kid. Now, you’re done.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means these little visits you’ve been insisting on having with Luka are finished. You’re no longer welcome in this house or anywhere near him.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I just did.”
“I’ll go back to court. I’ll appeal to the judge. I’ll tell him?—”
“Tell him what exactly?” I interrupt. “That you need these visits so you can intimidate and abuse your nine-year-old son? Because that’s exactly what I’ll tell the judge. Better yet, that’s exactly what Luka will tell him.” I place my hand on Luka’s shoulder. “Isn’t that right, son?”
Luka straightens his spine and faces Yana directly. “That’s right.”
Yana’s face goes pale, then red, then pale again. “Luka, I’m your mama?—”
“No, you’re not. You’ve never really been my mama. I don’t want you anymore. The only mama I want is Vesper.”
Yana’s hands clench into fists. She backs away from us, her face twisted with rage. “You can’t do this. You’ve brainwashed my son. You’ve turned him against me. It’s that bitch you’re sleeping with. She’s the one who?—”
“If you want to blame someone, Yana, take a long look in the mirror.” I step between her and Luka. “I was willing to honor the court-ordered visitation as long as you behaved yourself. Since that’s apparently impossible, I’m revoking that privilege. I don’t want you anywhere near my woman or my children.”
The last word slips out before I can stop it.Children—plural. After weeks of drilling discretion into Luka, here I am spilling our biggest secret because I’m too angry to think straight.
“Children?” Yana pounces on the mistake immediately. “Don’t tell me you knocked up that whore.”
“Stop calling her that!” Luka cries out.
I squeeze his shoulder reassuringly while keeping my attention on Yana. “I’m having a son,” I tell her, knowing the information will hurt her exactly the way I want it to.
All the color drains from her face. Her lips compress into a thin line, and her eyes widen with shock and fury.
“This isn’t over,” she snarls.
She spins around and stalks toward the front door. The rap of her stilettos sounds like bones breaking.
“Papa.” Luka grabs my arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“Stop right there. You did nothing wrong, Luka.” I crouch down to meet his eyes. “Do you hear me? You did absolutely nothing wrong.”
“But did you see the look on her face?” Tears start forming in his eyes. “What if she tries to hurt Mama or my baby brother?”
I pull him into a tight hug. “You don’t have to worry about that, son. I’m going to take care of them. I’m going to take care of all of you.”
Luka sniffles against my shoulder. “You promise?”
“I swear it on my life.”
