Chapter 130 130

Chapter 130 130
It’s not her shove that surprises me—it’s the fact that it works. Something in me lets her do it. I trip toward Milana, puncturing some invisible shield that was keeping me away from her.

Now that I’m this close, I want to do what I’ve done only once before in the entire time we’ve known each other: sweep Milana up in a hug and tell her everything is going to be okay. That I’ll take care of everything.

I reach out gingerly and touch the back of her hand. Just for a moment. “You’d hate me for doing this,” I whisper in a broken voice. “For making a big fucking deal. ‘I’m dead,’ you’d say. ‘Leave me the hell alone for once.’ But I can’t, Milana. I won’t. The last time I hugged you was the day I pulled you from the rubble of the cursed life you thought you’d have to live in forever. You said I saved you, and that you’d pay me back in spades. You were right about that. Again and again, you were right. You saved me from people who wanted to kill me. You saved me from myself, too, and if we’re being honest, that was the bigger threat. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m just a broken person, and sometimes, the people who are unlucky enough to love me get close enough to cut themselves on my shards. It’s my fault. All of this is. It should be me there and you here, making a fool of yourself giving speeches. But since you can’t, I’ll do. I’ll be the fool. Consider it the last gift I’ll ever give you.”

Then my voice won’t go anymore.

June steps up and rests her face against my shoulder. When I glance over, I see her cheeks are wet with tears. Together, we stand there, looking down at the ruins of the one selfless thing I ever did.

I’m saved the trouble of figuring out what to do next when Sara walks in. She’s changed out of her scrubs, and that sterile look of professionalism has been replaced with genuine sadness.

“I will monitor her closely in the next few days,” she says before we can even ask, glancing towards the stoic, beeping machines. “If her brain wave functions drop any lower, though, I’m afraid…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t need to.

“She won’t want to live like that,” I croak.

“W-who makes the decision though?” June asks. “To… take her off life support?”

There are three heartbeats of silence.

Then: “I do. I’m the only family she’s got.”

June’s hand clamps down around my arm. I glance down at her. “It’s time for you to look away, June. Like you promised you would.”

“Now?” she says fearfully. “But we—”

“I have to finish this,” I tell her. “I’m not going to let him slip away again. This ends now.”

“Let me come with you,” she pleads, tightening her grip on my arm. I can understand where she’s coming from. It feels like we’ve lived through a lifetime in this last hour, and now that we’ve come out unscathed, she doesn’t want to let me out of her sight.

“You know I can’t allow that.”

“Kolya—”

I kill her words by pressing my lips to hers. I kiss her deep, like I’ll never get to do it again, and then I pull away just as abruptly.

“Stay here, and follow the doctor’s orders.”

Then I give Sara a nod and head out.

I couldn’t protect Milana. But I’ll be damned if I don’t put everything I have into protecting June, as well as the child she’s carrying. Because fuck paternity: June is mine, and so is her baby.

She’s my woman.

She’s my daughter.

They are my family.

The truth is, if it was just me, I wouldn’t have been able to hurt my brother, no matter what he’d done. No matter how many times he came at me. No matter how hard he tried to destroy me.

But for them…

I’d kill him a thousand times over.

47

JUNE

“June, you need to eat something.”

I shove away the piece of bread that Geneva is offering me. “I can’t,” I whimper. “I can’t eat anything until he comes back home.”

Sara slips into the breakfast nook. “You need to eat for the baby, June,” she advises. Her voice sounds like she looks: flat, pale, tired.

“If I eat, I’ll just throw it all up.”

Geneva gets to her feet and meanders towards one of the window seats that overlooks the garden. It’s still dark out, but the sun should be coming out any minute now. The air is chalky with predawn chill, and insects cluster at the glass panes in search of heat.

Despite the early hour, Geneva is fully dressed. She claimed that she’d gotten a few hours of solid sleep, but the dark circles under her eyes give her away.

She’s been pestering me to eat for the last half hour, but she hasn’t touched a single bite of food herself. As soon as she thinks I’m not looking, she lets all the sparkle fade from her eyes.

Like the rest of us, she’s gray on the inside.

Sara takes the chair that Geneva just vacated. “He’ll come back,” she assures me. “And when he does, he’s going to be very irritated to hear that you’ve been starving yourself.”

“If he’s pissed, then at least it means he’s alive. So I won’t care.”

Sara rears back. “He’s not going to die.”

“How do you know?” I press. “Milana seemed invincible, too—until she wasn’t.”

My voice wobbles and wilts. I feel like a raw nerve ending. Even the slightest touch, as well-meaning as it may be, is the worst thing I’ve ever felt.

I shake my head and get to my feet. “I can’t do this. I can’t just sit here and wait.” Geneva and Sara start to protest, but I ignore them and fly out of the kitchen wing towards the front door.

One of his men, someone I don’t recognize, is standing by the door. “Where’s Knox?” I ask.

“He left with the don,” the man replies.

“Bring me a car.”

His eyes go wide. “Pardon, ma’am?”

“There are a dozen cars in the garage. Bring me one,” I say, using the same tone that Kolya uses when he means business.

“Ma’am…” He glances behind me at Sara and Geneva, who are clustered at the doorway. Neither one of them has uttered a word.

“It wasn’t a question. Bring me a car. Now.”

This whole situation is so fucked. A nightmare inside of a nightmare. But I’m done begging and pleading with whoever is in charge of the dreams to make me wake up.

I’m stuck here?

Fine.

I’m going to fucking own it.

The soldier sees some spark or hears some note in me that does the trick. He gulps, nods, and turns to carry out my orders.

Sara steps forward when he’s gone and clutches at my elbow. Her hands are weak and trembling in a way I’ve never seen before. “June, have you thought this through? You don’t even know where he went.”

“He’ll call me when he’s ready and then I’ll know.”

“So what happens now?” she asks. “You’re going to drive around until he calls?”

“No. First, I’m going to go see my father.”