Chapter Twenty-Eight

Brooke

K arina was safe in bed sleeping, and all the doors and windows were locked up tight, so I joined Lara in the kitchen. Her skin was still pale, and her lips were dry as she frowned at the half-empty bottle of red wine between us. "I don't think we have enough wine." Her voice was soft and low, still slightly shaky from the day's events. After we'd washed up in the bathroom, Ryan had taken me and Karina to Lara's house, while Ilya and Dmitri did whatever it was they were going to do.

I didn't want to think about it too carefully, I wasn't sure whether I could ever go back to my own home, but I had decided it was now or never, so six hours later we were back.

I smiled and shook my head. "We've already finished off one bottle, Lara. How many do you think we need?"

"As many bottles as it takes for my hands to stop shaking. To stop my mind from replaying the image of you with a gun pointed at your head, of seeing two men get their heads blown off right in front of me." She reached for her glass and lifted it to her lips, taking three big gulps that drained the wine.

"Agreed." I reached for my phone. "We can have some delivered."

"Get about six bottles. And candy bars. And sour cream and onion chips."

"Are you sure this is just trauma? Because that sounds suspiciously like a craving."

Her eyes widened. "You bite your dirty damn mouth," she answered with a small smile.

I smiled back, but it slowly faded as the weight of the day, of the past few days, hung heavy on me. "I'm sorry, Lara. None of this would have happened to you or to Ryan if it wasn't for me."

"Stop." Lara's gaze was fierce as it bored into me.

"No, I'm serious. God, the trauma you've been through is all my fault."

"That's bullshit, Brooke. This is because of that Russian asshole, and I don't mean Ilya. There was obviously some underlying family tension that had little to do with you."

"You noticed that too?" My shoulders relaxed slightly, but the guilt was still there. "Anyway, at least some of this was my fault."

"And if it wasn't me, then what?"

I looked away, not wanting to think about that at all. "Still."

"Still, nothing." She grabbed one of my hands and squeezed until she had my full attention. "You were so brave today, Brooke. Such a fucking badass."

"Maybe. But what about my poor little girl? Who knows how long it'll take her to get over this. If ever."

"Dmitri and I shielded her eyes, but those sounds…I don't know, Brooke. I'm sorry Dmitri found out about Karina, I know you wanted to tell him, and this wasn't the best way. Strike that, this was probably the worst fucking way ever."

"It's fine. It was only a matter of time. Winter Valley is a small town, it would've only taken one look at her to know the truth."

Lara grinned. "Dmitri said she looked just like Ilya at that age. He was stunned by the similarities, like he'd seen a ghost." Lara looked out into the living room. "I'm just glad they were able to get everything cleaned up."

The place wasn't just clean. It was spotless, as in there was no indication that anything had happened in there. The old carpet was gone and another, similar carpet was in its place. There was even a faint hint of paint in the air.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. I felt my heart race wondering if it was Ilya. There was no sign of him, when we returned home. But I had to trust him when he said he'd be back. I guess there was unfinished business he had to sort out. Instead of Ilya, I was faced with Ryan looking as if he'd aged a decade in the past few hours, a pizza box in his arms with two bags on top. Seeing him again was a relief even though I knew he was safe.

"Hey, Brooke." His voice was gentle, and his eyes were suspiciously soft. "I brought pizza and wings. Beer for me and wine for you."

My heart stuttered and came to an abrupt stop. What was happening? "Are you serious?"

He set down the box on the table. "I am. I'm also sorry, so fucking sorry for making your life even harder all these years. If something had happened to you…" His jaw clenched and he looked away.

"It didn't, though, thanks to you." I took a deep breath before asking the one question that worried me most. "Are you going to get in trouble at work?"

"No. Ilya took care of it," he answered. "Pretty damn effectively," he added reluctantly. Ryan took my hands and forced me to face him. "I'm trusting him because you do, Brooke. He took care of this so there would be nothing to link me to the Russian mafia."

It was clear how much he hated that idea, but he accepted it, because that's how much he loved being a police officer. "Okay."

"But if he commits a crime in Winter Valley and I can prove it, I won't look the other way."

I nodded. "Ilya wouldn't expect you to."

His brows dipped into a frown. "You really want to be with him, Brooke?"

"I didn't want to, not at first. I hated him and I held on to it for as long as I could. But it's true. I'm scared that he'll leave again, but I can't deny the connection that's still there. He defied his uncle for me."

"You deserve to be happy, Brooke. Mom would want that for you, and I do too."

"Thanks."

"But you know what this all means? It's time for Karina to meet her father."

I hadn't stopped thinking about that since Ilya confronted me at the penthouse. I knew the moment would come soon, and while I wanted that for my little girl, I was terrified. It was just the two of us all these years, and the idea of sharing her was scary.

What if she liked Ilya better?

Then she would be the happiest little girl in Winter Valley.

And at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.