Page 165 of Nine Months to Love
“Awake. Talking. Making demands. The doctors say she can come home in a few days.”
“That’s good news.” He takes a drag from his cigarette and studies me. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks. Appreciated, as always.”
“When’s the last time you slept?”
“I don’t know. What day is it?”
He shakes his head. “You need rest, boss.”
“I need to talk to Mikayla.”
Taras goes still. “Now?”
“Yes, now.”
“Why now? You haven’t been down there in days.”
“Because if I had gone to her before, I just might have killed her,” I snarl.
He considers that. Then he nods. “Fair enough. Want me to come with you?”
“No. I need to do this alone.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He drops the cigarette and crushes it under his boot. “Security’s been upped since the rescue attempt. She’s got three guards on rotation now. They’ll let you in.”
I nod and turn toward the stairs that lead down to the basement.
Taras calls after me. “Hey, Stefan.”
I stop and look back.
“Don’t do anything stupid, alright?”
“Like what?”
“Like killing her before we get what we need.”
“I’m not going to kill her.”
“You say that now.”
“I mean it. I just want answers.”
He doesn’t look totally put at ease, but he doesn’t try to stop me, either. I take the stairs down. Each step echoes in the narrow corridor. The basement is cool and dim, lit by overhead bulbs that cast harsh shadows on the concrete walls.
The guards straighten when they see me. One of them unlocks the door and steps aside. “Call if you need anything,pakhan,” he says.
I nod and walk in.
Mikayla is sitting on the edge of the bed, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap. She looks up when I enter. Her dark eyes are as alive as ever, but the rest of her looks worse. She’s thinner than she was a week ago. Her cheekbones are more pronounced, her skin paler. None of that stops her from emanating the same dangerous energy she always has.
“Stefan,” she says.
