Page 33 of Dark Bratva Christmas
Honestly, I don’t want to figure it out.
So, I climb in and buckle my seatbelt while Matysh walks around to the driver’s side.
“I’m surprised we’re not on your bike,” I comment as he diligently checks his mirrors and buckles in.
Look at him, giving a shit about safety when he literally guts people who cross him.
“Motorcycles can be dangerous,” he says, looking me in the eye before his gaze flickers to my stomach. “No reason to chance it.”
“Ah, precious cargo,” I say, giving my stomach an awkward pat. I am still struggling to come to terms with that. He nods his head and carefully adjusts the rearview mirror again.
And I could literallylaughat how ironic this is.
I stifle it and stare out the window as we take off, trying to ignore the warmth growing in my chest at the idea of it…the idea of him caring about me and my well-being.
If only for the sake of the baby.
“Where are we going?” I ask after a few minutes of driving in silence.
“You’ll see,” he says, his eyes not shifting from the road.
Staring out the window, I see beautiful houses with Christmas lights rushing by us and I nearly smile at the holiday beauty. “I used to love Christmas as a kid,” I say, my thoughts leaking from my mouth without me realizing it.
“Why?” Matysh’s eyes drift to me for a split second. “I mean, I get that most kids love Christmas for gifts, but you were a spoiled little Petrov. You got whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted it.”
“Material things don’t matter,” I say, my voice flat, as I push the memories from my childhood. “We were appeased with gifts and never allowed to enjoy the magic—you know, likelove.”
“Hmm,” Matysh mutters, letting out a sigh.
Before I can say anything else, the car slows along a street and Matysh parks in front of a meter before hopping out of the car. He jogs around and has my door open before my seatbelt is unclicked.
“Look at you, being Mr. Chivalrous,” I snort, giggling. “I have no idea who you are right now.”
His expression is once again unreadable. “You have a mouth on you.”
“I’d like to see you try to shut it.”
He doesn’t say anything, only places one hand firmly on my lower back, and then leads me to a grand arched entrance covered with glittering LED snowflakes and flashing bulb lights.
This all seems wrong. So wrong.
“What is this?” I demand, turning and looking at Matysh as he arches a brow at me.
We're surrounded by thousands of Christmas lights glowing and illuminating the darkness of the night around us. About a dozen people are wandering around with their hands stuffed in their pockets or nursing hot chocolates, admiring the displays. Christmas trees decorated with even more lights and glittering ornaments line a walkway with fake LED presents underneath.
“Helena told me you sit at the window and stare at the lights. I drove past the sign for this the other day and I thought you might…likeit,” Matysh says, his tone impossible to read. “Figured I’d give you something else to stare at.”
“This is beautiful,” I murmur.
Matysh puts a hand on the small of my back again as we start strolling through the walkway. When we exit the entrance, we come to a center circle with a bunch of picnic tables and food trucks parked around. Three new arched pathways with plaques hanging above them naming the themed display area are on every side of the center.
“I'll get us some cocoa,” Matysh says, leaving me on my own as he walks toward one of the food trucks.
I stand motionless and look around, realizing in the back of my mind I could potentially escape right now. Matysh's back is turned to me and we're surrounded by dozens of other people. He won’t be able to chase me that easily through the Christmas displays, will he?
Probably.
But even with the possibility of freedom, I stay put. I can't fully explain why, but my desire to run has diminished. Right now, I’m seeing a side of Matysh I never in a million years thought existed. I’m too curious to bolt.
