54. Natalia

54

NATALIA

Andrey,

I couldn't find you before I left—hence the note. I'm taking the kids to Aunt Annie's old place for a few days. I just need a breather in a different environment. Misha and Remi are with me, plus my six-man security team. So there's no reason to worry.

We'll talk when I get back home.

For the record, I'm still mad. I'll probably still be mad when I get home in three days.

But I love you. That's not going anywhere. And neither am I.

—Nat

I leave the note on our bed and then head downstairs with my duffel. The twins are already in their car seats by the door. Misha has Remi's leash and is blowing raspberries at his baby sister.

"Ready for our little adventure?" I ask.

"Adventure" might be overstating things. I'm running—I know that. Aunt Annie knew it, too, when she came to see me last night. Andrey sent her so I'd have someone to talk to, but there's nothing to say. I'm not interested in hearing his side of the story, and I'm not interested in staying in this house another second.

"The car seats are locked and loaded." Misha takes the bag from my shoulder. "Let me get the stroller."

The twins are wide awake for now, but they just ate, and I have a feeling they'll sleep on the drive over.

Leif is waiting outside for us, flanked by two jeeps loaded down with equipment. "Don't you think this is a little overkill, Leif?"

"No," he answers flatly, "I don't."

Rolling my eyes, I decide to pick my battles. "Things okay at the house?"

"Everything looks good. We did a thorough check."

"Perfect." I give him what I hope is my most charming smile and hurry through the next sentence. "By the way, I'd like to drive today."

Leif purses his lips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Nat."

Of course, it's not. Because giving Natalia a little independence is never a good idea in this house.

But I save my complaints and jump straight to the begging. "Please, Leif? Preeeetty please? Just this once? Don't make me break out the sugar on top.'"

He groans. "Fine. Just today. But you're driving between the two jeeps, got it?"

I salute him. "Aye-aye, captain."

Misha gives me a fist pump and a high-five, and then we load the twins into the back of the armored SUV.

The moment we leave the gates of the manor behind, I take a deep breath, my hands relaxing on the wheel.

It feels good to drive myself.

It feels good to take control.

It feels good to spend some time alone—just me and my kids. Remi nudges my shoulder like he can read my mind and knows I almost forgot him, so I mentally add him to the list of my current blessings.

This is nice.

"Are you and Andrey fighting again?" Misha pipes up from the back seat.

Just like that, the rosy sheen of the moment fades. I don't want to talk about this, but Misha won't drop it until I do.

"We had a disagreement," I admit. "It'll blow over. I just needed a little space."

Misha nods, but I can see him chewing his bottom lip to bits. His brow is creased with worry.

"Misha, nothing has changed," I assure him. "We're still a family. We still love each other. But that's the other thing about families: they fight."

"But they don't leave ."

Guilt twists inside me, but I ignore it. "I'm not leaving forever. This is just a temporary timeout."

"For you or for Andrey?"

"Both of us."

"Nothing changes?" he checks again after a long silence.

I smile, catching his face again in the mirror. "Nothing changes."

Apart from seeing his relieved smile, I notice something else in the reflection: a black car swerving around in the background.

Come to think of it, I saw that same car ten minutes ago.

Something in my stomach churns.

"Hey, Misha? Call Olaf for me, please." I'm too nervous to take my hands off the wheel. As I predicted, both babies are sleeping soundly, and I don't want to jostle the car and wake them.

Misha fumbles with my cell phone and then puts the call on speaker, holding it next to my head so I can talk hands-free.

"Natalia, now isn't a good?—"

"Have you noticed the black car?" I interrupt. "I feel like it's tailing us."

Misha immediately spins around, and I hate that he has to be aware of this at all.

Olaf sighs. "Yes. We noticed. Just keep driving. We'll stay between?—"

A thundering crash drowns out whatever Olaf was saying. I hear it from the road behind me and through the speaker, the sheer volume making my phone crackle.

" Prygat! " someone yells from inside Olaf's jeep as I watch it veer violently to the side in my rearview mirror.

"Oh my God!" Misha yelps, almost dropping my phone. "They just rammed into Olaf's—holy hell—they just did it again!"

The sound of crunching metal is deafening. I want to plug my ears, close my eyes, but I keep a firm grip on the steering wheel.

My babies are in this car.

"Keep driving, Natalia!" Olaf bellows. "Try to catch up with Leif. He shouldn't be that far ahead of you!"

Then the line goes dead.

"Hold on!" With my heart pounding like a jackhammer, I mash the accelerator. We rip forward, but I've completely lost sight of Leif.

This can't be happening… This can't be happening…

The babies are crying and Misha is trying to comfort them, but he keeps turning around the same way I keep checking the rearview mirror.

Olaf is doing his best to block the car from overtaking him, but for all his heft, the smaller, sleeker car is just plain fast . Engines scream as they vie for position.

"It's okay, babies!" I croak, swerving through the narrowing roads. "We're gonna be okay."

As the words leave my mouth, Olaf's jeep is knocked into a tailspin. He careens off the road, diving nose-first into a ditch.

The black car accelerates.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Misha is shushing the twins, but I can hear his voice hitching. He sees what's going to happen.

"Hold on!" I scream, just as the car rams into us.

Everyone else is strapped in and buckled, but Remi is flung against the dashboard. He hits hard and falls under the dash, caught in the footwell, whining in pain.

"Nat, they're coming!" Misha's panicked words are the last thing I hear before the car rear-ends us for the second time.

Except this time, I lose control of the wheel.

The car swerves off in a sharp left, and we slam into a tree.

My ears ring. My body is heavy and numb. As I give in to the blissful oblivion of darkness, a comforting thought takes hold.

It will all be okay when I wake up.

This is just another nightmare.

"Mom! Mom!"

There's a poke to my side. My face.

"Mom!"

I'm still dreaming.

"Mom!" someone sobs. "Please wake up. Please."

A nightmare. This is a nightmare.

Something warm and wet slides down my face. I inhale and cough, my lungs protesting against the smoke.

"MOM!"

It's like an electric shock straight to the heart. I jolt upright, already reaching for my son. "Misha?"

There's blood drying on his forehead and tears streaking down his dirty cheeks. Remi is limp in the passenger seat, but my eyes slip down to the single bundle Misha is clutching to his chest.

Not two…

Just one.

"No!" I choke, twisting around in my seat. Pain shoots down my side, but I ignore it and search the backseat.

"I've got Sarra," he says weakly.

"Grigory," I gasp. "Where's Grigory?"

But my son's car seat is empty.

"I… don't know. He's…." His breath catches. "He's gone."