Page 45 of Enemy Within
“I ejected.”
“You said it wasmadnessto eject in the permafrost! And that you would not even be able to if they fired at you at such close range! You would not have time!”
“I do not know how I did it. I was talking to you, and then—” Sasha looked away, down to the snow. “And itwasmadness. I should be dead.”
“No,” Sergey growled. He grabbed Sasha’s wrist and pulled him close, until their faces were inches away. Fury crackled off Sergey, sparked from his eyes, made the air shiver between them. “Do notdarespeak about dying again. You are not allowed to throw your life away! Do you hear me? I will kill you myself if you ever do something like that again! Icannot—” His voice, building to a crescendo, cracked, and he hissed, a quiet, sharp gasp. “Ineedyou,” he finally breathed.
Sasha stared into Sergey’s eyes, breathing fast. His lips were open, his breath making tiny clouds that puffed between their faces.
Now, Sergey. Kiss him now.Jack’s gaze darted between the two. He stayed quiet.Sergey,dosomething. Tell him. My God, tell him. Don’t wait.
“I am here,” Sasha whispered. “Always.”
Sergey’s expression curdled, and he let go of Sasha’s wrist like it burned him to touch. “You promised that once before. And then you demanded to fly off and die!”
Everything within Sasha closed up tight. Jack watched walls fall behind his eyes, saw his spine stiffen. He pulled back, frowning at Sergey. “It was for you. So you could end this madness and go back to being president.”
Sergey snarled, and he tried to pull away. Jack kept him pinned, leaning into his wound. Sergey sent him a withering glare before turning back to Sasha. “Do not do it again!”
“Sergey—”
A new voice broke over the yard. “Jack?”
He knew that voice. Relief flooded through him, followed by a sigh that came from his soul. He looked up and found Ethan standing just inside the broken front gate in the dim light of a distant pair of headlights. Ethan’s gaze darted from Milos’s broken body to the three of them in the snow. He had his rifle at the ready, pointed at Sasha’s back.
“Sasha. Hold here.” He grabbed Sasha’s hands, moved them over his on Sergey’s leg, and then stood and stumbled across the snowy yard to Ethan, a beaming smile stretching his face and making his cheeks ache.
Ethan stared at him, his eyes cataloging every scratch, every bruise, every soot mark Jack had picked up. His new clothes, scavenged from the Russian prison. Jack opened his arms. “Am I glad to see you, love.”
Jack’s smile must have let Ethan relax, at least a fractional amount. He lowered his rifle and wrapped him up, his hands sliding up Jack’s neck and into his hair as he pressed their cheeks together, letting out a sigh. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
He kept holding on, smiling. He was safe, back together with Ethan. Ethan was in his arms. Sasha was alive. Sergey was going to be okay. The world still turned. The sky hadn’t ignited yet. For the moment, everything was good. Relief made him giddy, made his stomach flutter and his blood quicken. “One of us,” he said into Ethan’s ear, “has very bad luck.”
“I had a normal life before I met you.” Ethan pulled back, but he cupped Jack’s face. His eyes were smiling, even as they swept over his bruised cheek, his mussed hair standing on end.
“I guess we’re just going to have to stick together, huh?”
“Guess so.” Smiling, Ethan dropped a kiss to the end of Jack’s nose. “Who is that?” He nodded to where Sasha knelt, his back to Ethan.
Jack sighed. Had it only been a few hours since Sergey had confessed his love, his desire for Sasha? Faced down a part of himself, and reconciled with his heart and soul?
Now, he glared at the prison fence, at the trees beyond, looking furious enough to chew nails as Sasha kept pressure on his wound. Sasha kept sneaking glances at Sergey, but Sergey never saw.
“Sasha. Sasha’s back.”
IT WAS TIME TO GO. Time to get back to the mission.
Ethan pulled out the med kit and wrapped Sergey’s leg, hands, and shoulder as they filled him in on Milos, his criminal past, and how he’d hunted them. Sasha spoke next, grunting through what even Jack could tell was a condensed version of his time in the tundra. Finding the tribesmen, and then Ilya.
The news about Moroshkin emptying the Siberian prisons made Sergey snarl and growl again.
When Ethan was done, he confirmed what Sergey had already said: the bullet had gone straight through his calf and the cuts were shallow. Other than the pain, Sergey was going to be fine with some rest and fluids.
They piled into Ethan’s jeep, Sasha sliding into the backseat with Sergey. Sergey kept to his sullen silence, slumping against the window as if he could escape, glaring out at the snow and refusing to talk as Sasha closed his eyes and rested his head on the seatback.
Five minutes after Ethan set out, Sasha started snoring.
And Sergey stared at him, frustrated fury melting away, replaced with naked longing.
