67. Andrey

67

ANDREY

"Congratulations. The bullet missed all your major organs." Alexei dips his bloody hands into the bucket of water beside him to rinse them clean.

"I could have told you that. Actually, I did tell you that," I growl. "Just get the damn bandages on. I need to go check on Natalia."

Something is wrong with her. I saw it in the flickering of her eyes, the way she wouldn't hold my gaze for longer than a second or two.

Shura's not back yet, either. Between the two of them, my stomach is a mass of churning nerves.

Alexei is just finishing with the bandages when Shura finally walks into the dining room we're using as a makeshift infirmary.

"What's going on?" I push off the table and dismiss Alexei with a jerk of my chin.

Shura's bleak face doesn't provide much in the way of reassurance.

"What's wrong? Is she?—"

"Natalia is fine. Physically speaking, at least." He sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. "But she's shaken."

"Obviously. But she's conscious. She's dealing with everything," I say, a desperate edge in my voice. "I call that progress."

I wait for Shura to agree, but his jaw is set and his eyes are dark. "She wants to leave."

I stare at him, waiting for the words to make sense. Waiting for him to explain himself.

They don't. He doesn't.

"What the fuck does that mean?" I snap. "I brought the doctor here. She's being taken care of. We don't need to leave. There's nowhere to?—"

"‘Drey, she wants to leave ," he repeats. "I overheard her talking to Mila and Katya. She plans to run."

She wants to leave. Leave here. Leave me. Leave us.

I want to be angry. But how can I be?

After everything she's been through—after everything she's in danger of losing, it makes sense that her first instinct would be to get as far away from the toxic asshole who dragged her into his blood-soaked world.

"Katya and Mila promised they would keep her secret, but it was obvious that neither one was exactly gung-ho about the shit," he continues. "They tried to convince her to stay."

Leave. Leave. She wants to leave. That shit repeats in my head like a broken record.

The world without her is dark.

Without her scent…

Without her body next to mine in bed…

If Natalia leaves…

I don't know what will become of me.

"'Drey?"

I turn towards the windows where the roof of the pool house is partially visible. The manor will be empty without her.

So will I.

"I can't exactly blame her," I admit softly.

"The fuck are you talking about?" Shura barks. "This is her home. You are her family."

"Maybe it'd be better if I wasn't." My own voice is a weak, rasping shell of itself. "Let's face it: the people closest to me always end up hurt."

"If you're talking about Maria?—"

I whirl on him, eyes wild. "Of course I'm talking about Maria. She died because of me!"

"'Drey, brother?—"

"She was pregnant, you know? When she died. She was pregnant with my baby."

Shura's jaw snaps shut. His cheeks hollow as he takes that in. I'm not surprised at his reaction. I've kept that piece of information to myself for a long fucking time.

"How… How do you know that?" he croaks at last.

"I found the positive pregnancy test in her purse hours after her funeral. Three of them, actually. They all said the same thing."

Shura gingerly lowers himself into a chair at the dining table. "Fuck."

"The thought of letting Natalia go is unbearable," I whisper. "But what's worse would be losing her altogether. At least this way, I'll know she's out there somewhere, alive and well."

"With your child."

The thought cuts deep, but I know how to carry on while wounded. I've been doing it all my life.

"Maybe the best thing I can do for my child is to stay away from her. From both of them."

Shura looks indignant on my behalf. "You'd just let her go. Just like that?"

"Not ‘just like that.' She'll need to be watched over, protected."

If I send my men and Natalia ever sees them, she'll know I'm keeping tabs on her. It will have to be men she doesn't recognize—men with no connection to me. Shadows to guide her from now until the end of our days.

"If any of our men offer to come with her, she's going to know immediately that it's because you ordered them to," Shura says, his thoughts traveling the same path as mine. I see the moment he reaches the end of the sidewalk because he looks horrified.

But we're long past having good options. All that's left is bad and worse.

"You're going to entrust Natalia and the baby to mercenaries? To strangers?"

I shrug. "They can watch her from afar. Send me pictures and updates when I ask for them. Keep me notified of any developments that occur along the way."

Shura's mouth opens and shuts soundlessly. "You're going to watch your daughter grow up through… through fucking pictures ?"

I feel that exact same disgust in every cell of my body. The wrongness of it all.

"Show me the better way," I beg him. "Show me what else I should do . "

He doesn't answer.

We both know he can't.