Page 39 of Lies He Told Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 1)

My hand reaches for the mirror shard and grips it for a second. Then, against all logic, I let it go.

Gavril’s most powerful weapon isn’t the gun I can see tucked in his belt, or even his powerful hands now cupping my face. It’s the glint in his dark eyes that says that heknows.

He knows I want this.

I’ve wanted this since the first second we locked eyes. Since before he even thought about opening his mouth to speak to me.

His lips are hard commands, to which the only response is to obey, as his hand sweeps down, claiming more and more of me until—

* * *

He sneezes mid-face-lick.

My eyes snap open.

Gavril Vaknin is not in my tent, and his hands are not winding their way between my thighs. It’s just—

“Chowder!” I groan. “Ewaughhh!” I roll to the other side of my pillow, using the tattered fabric to mop off my face.

Instead of handsome, sexy politician playtime, I just got a hardcore lick-down from a dog that has scarfed down unspeakable horrors, which have now got him smelling like sardine-plugged urinals. Lovely. To be fair, though, it’s the most action I’ve gotten in years.

I’ve got sweat slicked in random places of my body too. Whoopee. What a way to wake up.

As for that dream … I wriggle deeper into my sleeping bag, clamping my eyes shut. More sleep would be good. Now, if I could only get it out of my head.

Why the hell is he haunting my dreams? I made my decision, said ‘no’ to his offer of a sell-your-soul-and-get-out-of-poverty chance. Why wasn’t that the freaking end of it? Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Apparently, that’s wrong.

I roll to the other side of my pillow, while Chowder wriggles unhappily.

Maybe it’s because, instinctively, I know. With Teddy gone, the game has changed.

Not the game, but rather, my life. Can I really stay here in Tent City?

I press Chowder to me tighter. Why not? I still have Wanda, still have Chowder. I’m on ‘hey, how’s it goin’?’ terms with some of the other regulars nearby. Sure, Teddy was a respected veteran and kept me safe, but that doesn’t mean I’m now de facto screwed, right?

The problem is, there’s no way of knowing. I can try pep-talking my way to sleep here all I want, but there’s no changing it. Cold, hard reality awaits outside my tent, and I can’t avoid it much longer.

I toss and turn and cry a bit more before I realize that sleep isn’t coming anytime soon. But the prospect of going outside just makes me curl up into a tighter ball.

If I go outside, then I’ll have to see Teddy’s empty space by the fire, his quiet tent, the space where he was. Probably people milling about, muttering or groaning over what happened.

I’ll have to face it, that I really am alone now. That I have no one except Chowder and—

Don’t you dare go there.

But it’s too late—Mom’s back in my head, my thoughts already rummaging into the plastic bags for what I’ve got stashed there. What I’ve been saving there for ages …

You are not burning another second thinking about her.

But of course, I am.

I’m thinking about how I haven’t called her for months. About how that’s long enough for her to have broken up with Damon. Long enough for her to have thought long and hard about what she did and what it cost her. Long enough to change.

I’m thinking about how maybe, just maybe, there’s the smallest, slightest little sliver of a chance that—

You’re really determined to get as low as you can, aren’t you?The little devil on my shoulder is being a serious asshole right now.

---