Page 22 of Secret Baby and the Bratva

“The guys, they didn’t give up killing people, they’re still doing it and Yulian got shot.”

“Oh my god, is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine, but he got shot. The point is, we don’t know he will always be fine. They weren’t honest with me.”

“Okay, stay with me tonight. Cool off.”

“I can’t. This is what I was worried about in the first place. It happened. Do you not see how dangerous this is?”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

“There always is. Harper, they have meetings, they have things they don’t want to talk about. You don’t have to worry about this. Your guys aren’t the Ubiytsa. They aren’t the ones who go out and put themselves in harm’s way.”

“I’m so sorry, Margot.”

“Drive me to the apartment. Please don’t tell anyone. I’m going to disappear. I’m going to get my bearings tonight, then leave in the morning.”

“I didn’t even think about your car still being there.”

“My backup plan. I have to keep my baby safe.”

“But Margot—”

“No buts. If you can’t do this, I’ll call Sadie.”

She disappears for a moment, then pulls the car out and I hop in. I stare at my house, light only emanating from the living area where everything went wrong.

This is the right thing, isn’t it? I only ask myself, putting no voice to the words. Harper would talk me out of it, but I’m too scared.

But, when I try to think of what would make me comfortable, I think of the three men I’m running from.

Sixteen

Yulian

Thepaininmyneck hits me before my eyes open. I roll my head side to side, getting my bearings. I’m sitting in the hallway with my back wedged against the wall. My feet are propped against the opposite wall. My ass hurts as bad as my neck.

I glance to the side. Both of my brothers are in the same position, but only Feliks is awake. None of us could leave to sleep in our beds. We had to stay here waiting for Margot, wishing there was some way we could apologize or explain or anything. Feliks is typing on his phone.

“Any word from her?” I say, having to clear my throat to get the words out.

“Nothing.”

I grab my phone in case by some weird chance a message came through on mine and not his. Nothing. I type out a message.

Margot, we need to talk. I’m so sorry.

I delete it. I try again.

I’ll do anything to make this up to you.

I delete it and bang my head against the wall, dropping my phone by my side. “She’s not going to forgive us. Is she?”

Maxim stirs. Feliks doesn’t bother to answer.

I rub a hand over my wound, a thin long-sleeve shirt covering it.

Maxim grumbles then lowers his voice. “In our line of work, it’s barely worse than stubbing your toe.”

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