Page 125 of Nine Months to Bear
Mikayla’s fingers twitch toward her gun. Taras’s do, too. But I hold up a hand.
“You think I’m not a good man?” I ask.
“I think you’re here to kill my husband.” Tears stream down her face, but her voice stays strong. “In our home. Where our children sleep. So no, Mr. Safonov, I don’t think you’re good.”
Devon reaches for his wife’s hand. She grabs it, fingers interlacing. A united front against death.
The gesture shouldn’t affect me. I’ve seen couples cling to each other before the end. But something about the instinctiveness of it—the automatic reach, the instant grip—makes my chest tight.
Olivia’s hand in mine on the yacht. That same instinctive reach.
“Please.” Haley drops to her knees. “Please don’t do this. We’ll disappear. Leave the state. The country, if you want. You’ll never hear from us again.”
I shake my head. “He knows too much.”
“Then take me instead,” she begs. “Kill me. Let him raise our children.”
“No!” Devon drops beside her. “Haley, stop—” He looks up at me. “Don’t listen to her. This is my fault. My punishment.”
They argue over who should die. As if death is a gift they can give each other.
“Enough.” My growl cuts through their pleas. “Both of you, stand up.”
They rise slowly, still clutching each other.
“I’m not going to kill either of you.”
The sigh of relief that whistles out of both of them is almost fucking comical.
“But—” I let the word sit for a moment, mostly because I can’t fucking believe I’m extending him this mercy to begin with. “—Devon comes with us.”
“No!” Haley’s grip on her husband tightens. “You said?—”
“I said I wouldn’t kill him. I didn’t say he walks free.” I nod to Taras. “Take him.”
Taras moves forward, but Haley throws herself between them. “You can’t just take him!”
“I can do whatever the fuck I want, Mrs. Manizer.” My voice drops to permafrost. “Your husband betrayed me. Sold information that put my people at risk. The fact that he’s still breathing is a gift you should be grateful for.”
Devon gently pushes his wife aside. “It’s okay, Haley.”
“It’s not okay! The children?—”
“—will have their father back.” I meet Devon’s eyes. “After he’s answered some questions. Thoroughly.”
Again, I don’t know what the hell I’m saying. Since when do I make promises to traitors’ families? Since when the fuck do Icare?
Devon kisses his wife’s forehead and whispers something I don’t catch. She sobs against his chest while Taras stands impatiently behind them.
We’re about to leave when?—
“Daddy?”
A small mumble from the stairs. A boy in dinosaur pajamas appears, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
“Hey, buddy.” Devon’s voice cracks. “Go back to bed.”
“Why’s Mommy crying?”
