Page 38 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

And as I look at him, I feel something in my chest. A tiny fissure, a bolt of pain.

It’s my heart cracking. Just a little bit more.

He can’t be what I want him to be. Or maybe he can and he just refuses to be it. I’m not sure which one is worse.

Whatever the case, I can’t keep doing this to myself. I’ve tried again and again to convince myself that he can love me or that he can’t, because if I could just settle on one of those, I’d be able to move on with my life. I could go back to my family or I could go with him, and there’d be certainty. There’d be safety.

He gives me none of that.

So what forces me off of him is not what I thought it would be. It’s not fear or hatred.

It’s just disappointment.

I cannot change Aleks Makarova—and he will not change for me.

“What are you doing?” Aleks asks as I fumble with the handle of the door and push it open.

I stumble into the rain and realize I’m still half-naked. I wriggle my now-soaking clothes back into place as I walk away from the car. Tears run down my cheeks, indistinguishable from the raindrops.

I hear the jeep door slam and footsteps approach. I know he’s behind me, but I keep walking, anyway. I don’t want him to see what he does to me. He suspects it, of course, but suspecting and seeing are two different things.

I just want to preserve the last scrap of dignity I have left.

“Olivia!”

“Leave me alone.”

He grabs my elbow and whips me around like a spinning top. “Never.”

I want to scream in his face, but my rage dwindles the moment I see him. The rain is washing over him, turning his white shirt transparent. His hard muscles are on full display. My body does what it always does at the sight of him—flutters, flips, soars.

I ignore it. I have to focus on what matters.

“I thought you wanted what was best for me,” I snap.

“Maybe what’s best for you is being away from your controlling, judgmental family.”

“You have them pegged wrong.”

“They think I’m a rapist, so I’m just returning the favor.”

“You know what?” I say. “This was my mistake. I ruined everything by thinking I could actually talk to you.”

He nods. “Sounds good to me. Next time we fuck, you can save the chatter for someone who cares.”

“Asshole!” I say, slapping my hand against his giant chest. It hurts me more than it does him.

He sighs. “Get in the car, Olivia.”

“No.”

He rolls his eyes. “Will you stop being so dramatic? You’re soaked through.”

“I’m fine.”

“Olivia, you’re pregnant with my baby,” he growls at me. “I’m giving you two seconds to get your ass in that car, and if you don’t, I’m going to carry you myself.”

“I don’t have to listen to—”

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