Page 83 of Til Death Do Us Part (Kornilov Bratva Duet 2)

I wave his apology away. “We can hash it out another time. Right now, I need to know that we can move forward and work together.”

Petr steps forward and holds out a hand. I grasp his, and he pulls me in for a quick hug, patting me once on the back. “We’re good. Brothers for life, okay?”

I swallow down an uncharacteristic swell of emotion and nod in agreement. “Brothers for life.”

“Then let’s get to work.” Petr lets go of my hand and bends down to grab the book he dropped on the floor when I knocked. He tucks it into his front pocket and strolls out of the room, tipping his head to the guard as he saunters past.

* * *

Petr is even moreof a miracle worker than I thought. While my connection with the men in the Bratva has been growing more and more tenuous, his has been strengthening. None of them will take my calls, but they answer Petr’s calls on the first ring. They don’t want to hear talk of coming back to help the Bratva when it is my idea, but as soon as Petr suggests it, they are open to discussing it.

After a painful afternoon of making phone calls and arrangements when I’d rather be making funeral plans for my baby brother, things are finally in motion.

Seamus’ promise of Irish assistance holds steady, and his men are at my disposal and willing to take commands from me. Half of the Bratva men who bailed at the news of my betrayal this morning have returned as well. I assure them there are no hard feelings. Mostly because I can’t afford to be picky right now. I need every bit of help I can scrounge up if we are going to save Molly.

Though, things aren’t quite as desperate as I thought this morning. While a good number of men did bail on me and the Bratva, more than I realized stayed behind. Their loyalty to me and the Bratva remains, and they trust me to end Fedor, regardless of the Bratva rules I broke.

Still, even with the Irish and remaining Russian men looking together, no one is able to find any trace of Molly or the location of Fedor’s current hideout.

“We’ll find her,” Petr says, squeezing my shoulder. “I’m sure of it.”

I want to believe him, but more and more, I’m starting to allow myself to consider what will happen if we don’t find her. What will life look like if Molly is gone?

I’ll take care of Theo no matter what. He is my son, regardless of genetics. But is that what is best for him? I want to be the one who comforts him when he cries and tells him stories about his mom, but maybe Molly was right all along. Maybe he deserves a better man than me.

Niamh and Seamus never had children, but they would be a good, loving home for him. Maybe they would take him.

The thought of him calling someone else ‘dad’ makes me feel sick, but I’ll do whatever is best for Theo. Always. I owe Molly at least that much.

My phone rings, interrupting my thoughts, and I lunge across the table for it.

The number is unknown, and that is more exciting to me than anything else.

Maybe Molly escaped. Maybe she got away from Fedor and is calling me from a random phone somewhere. Maybe I can get in my car and go pick her up and wrap her in my arms.

My heart is hurling itself against my chest by the time I answer.

So, when I hear the female voice on the other end of the line, the disappointment is physically painful.

“Hannah?”

“Don’t hang up,” she says quickly, her voice desperate.

“Don’t tell me what to do, you bitch,” I spit at her, standing up and pacing across the small room. Petr is frowning at me, but I’m too livid to explain. My hands are shaking, and I want to throw my phone across the room. “You turned your back on your best friend. You deserve whatever hell comes your way.”

“He has my mom,” Hannah says, her voice breaking. “He was blackmailing me, and I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry. I’m so … so sorry.”

I hear her crying on the other end of the line, but I have no sympathy for her. She could have chosen not to participate and gone to the police. Or, better yet, she could have come to me. She could have told me what was going on and allowed me to help her, but she didn’t. She got Molly kidnapped and maybe killed.

“I should have told you,” she says through tears. “I should have told both of you, but I was so scared. I thought if I just did what Fedor wanted that he would give me back my mother, but now I know it was all a lie.”

“No shit. I could have told you that. Molly could have, too. We know him better than you, and we could have helped.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I want to help.”

“Why should I listen to you?” I ask. “Better yet, why should I trust you?”

“Because Molly saved me.” Her voice is soft, and I hear her sniffle through the phone.

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