Page 125 of Sire
“Yeah, Remi. He looks like he’d steal the nickels off a dead man’s eyes.”
“If the man pissed him off.”
“And youtrustthem?”
He takes a left turn. “I trust if I pay them to dosomething, they will. And I’ll help them. Besides, Wilder and I go way back. We were in juvie together.”
“Yeah, he said youshankedhim.”
“Just a little.” Sire grins. “And he never stole my cherry cobbler again.”
I shake my head. Sometimes, Sire’s so godly, and other times, he’s so street. It’s sexy, but not now.
It’s dangerous. Fatally dangerous. My instinct keeps telling me. Dolly Parton. Butterflies. God. The sky. I don’t know where it comes from, but I trust this inner voice.
Sire will die. Stop him.
I try to use reason. “So, where are we going? Wilder’s halfway house?”
“No.” He looks dead serious. “We’re going to the cousins’ brewery. The clock’s ticking. Viktor’s here, on my father’s yacht in Savannah, but we’ll make sure he doesn’t make it back to Moscow.”
Sire’s so calm when all hell breaks loose. I bet he’s as calculated as his father; he’s his worst threat. He knows his father’s next move.
But what breaks my heart is …Sire’s soul is dying because his father is winning.He has Sire’s nephew, Axel’s son.
I heard Viktor confirm it today. He said it was a choice: Sire’s son or Axel’s.
Though it broke their hearts, I believe my birth parents gave me away for a loving reason. They couldn’t take care of me, so they left me in God’s safe hands.
But Sire or Axel would never give their child away. No, it’s the opposite. They’d kill to keep their child.
How was it ever a choice for Sire?
It wasn’t.
“So, you’re going to kill Viktor? Won’t your father retaliate?”
“Viktor’s replaceable. I’m not. It sends a message to myfather and Katya. Vengeance for what they did to Axel. They took his son, so I’ll take Viktor.”
“That’s brutal.”
He glances at me. “That’sour family.”
It leaves me silent until we step out of the car in the parking lot outside the brewery. String lights glow. The warm, wooden barn with its large windows and red metal roof beckons you inside. Even the black iron sign, lit by flickering gas lamps, reading “DEAD GOOD BREW,” doesn’t scare me.
But this does…
“Sire, don’t.” I grab his hand, sudden tears spilling down my cheeks. “Don’t do this. God. Dolly. I don’t know, but something is telling me to stop you. Like something bad’s going to happen, and I always trust my instinct.”
“Angel,” he cups my wet cheek, “I’ll never lie to you. Yes, something bad will happen, and I’m sorry it upsets you, but that’s the life I was born into. Just know, I’m trying to get us out.”
“But don’t dothis.Don’t go on that boat.”
“Viktor needs to die. Axel’s son isn’t safe with him around.”
“Okay. I want to protect the child, too, but let the cousins do it. You stay here.” I plead to his indigo eyes, this fear suffocating my cry, “Don’tleaveme.”
He softens. He only does it with me. Pulling me closer, he nuzzles his forehead to mine. “I’m never leaving you, Angel.”
