Page 89 of Nine Months to Love
“So you became one of those people.”
“Yes. I took Mikayla’s identity. Trained and made myself useful. And then I waited for the right moment to apply for a position in your organization.”
“The fighting pit in Vladivostok.”
She nods. “I knew you went there sometimes, looking for talent. I made sure I was fighting the night you showed up.”
I remember that night. Remember watching her break a man’s arm without flinching. Those eyes, dead and cold and, above all,intelligent.
I should have seen it then. That kind of control only comes from deep pain.
“You played me from the beginning,” I say.
“Not all of it.” She shifts on the cot. “At first, yes. I was looking for weaknesses. Ways to bring you down. But after a while...” She trails off.
“After a while what?”
“After a while, I started to understand you. You weren’t just a monster. You were a man who’d been hurt by the people he trusted most.” She meets my eyes. “Just like me.”
“That doesn’t excuse what you did.”
“No. It doesn’t. Just like your pain doesn’t excuse what you did to Mikayla.”
She’s right. Again.
“My turn.” She pauses. “When you find Natalia, what will you do to her?”
I don’t hesitate. “I’ll kill her.”
“Have you not had enough death? What about your father, about Mikayla, about all the other people who’ve died because of your war with Natalia?”
“They made their choices.”
“Mikayla didn’t choose anything. She was just trying to make a living.”
The guilt twists in my chest. “I know.”
“And yet you’d do it all again.”
It’s not a question, but I answer anyway. “Yes. To protect the people I love, I’ll do whatever the fuck it takes.”
“You sound like her, you know. Your mother. Both of you, when you talk… you sound the same.”
“She’s a monster,” I sneer.
“What does that make you?”
I don’t know how to answer that, so I rise and walk to the door without responding. My hand is on the handle when Mila speaks again.
“For what it’s worth, I believe you when you say you love Olivia. I can see it in your eyes.” She pauses. “My sister would have liked her, I think. Part of me likes her, too. I know that doesn’t change anything for you. You’re going to do to me whatever you want to do. Kill me, most likely. But just know that I made the choices I made for the same reasons you say you are.”
“What’s that?” I ask, despite my better instinct.
“Love,” she replies somberly. “It makes fools of us all.”
29
OLIVIA
