25. Elira

25

ELIRA

T he demon leaves before Maksim so much as blinks.

Our eyes are glued together while the rest of me is in a puddle of anxiety on the ground.

Hit. As in hitman. As in danger.

Asher. Bora. Mami.

They're all in danger.

When the demon peels away, in a hurry to obey Maksim's commands like the errand boy it's hard to believe he is, Maksim gives him one last look before going to me. His face has turned white, and when he reaches toward me, he's hesitant, like he thinks I might bite his hand.

"It's okay, you're safe," he assures me. "I promise, I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

I don't take his hand. Don't move. I'm frozen in place behind this bush. I never meant to hide from Maksim, only jumped back here when I saw Alik pull up, but now I'm glad I did.

Would Maksim have told me the truth otherwise?

Danger.

Asher.

Bora.

Mami.

I have to get to Albania.

On this thought, my head moves toward Maksim's car, and I climb to my feet. Leaves and twigs scrape dirt off my dress as I shimmy between the bush and the house, but I make no other move to remove the rest. My mind is numb.

"What are you doing?" Maksim asks, his voice full of worry. And something else. Something… Guilt?

Hit.

Danger.

Wife.

Wife?

What had the demon said? How was it he'd known my family should be cautious?

The wife mentioned interest in your whore's family before.

Alik knew this?

I blink and stare at Maksim, searching my mind for surprise in his features when Alik told him this. It had been a cannonball to my abdomen, so I hadn't been paying attention, but I don't remember surprise.

He wasn't surprised.

"Did you know?" I ask, so quiet that he may not hear.

But he does hear it. He hears it because he was expecting it. The guilt in his voice is masked when he contorts his lips in a frown, a lie . "Know what?"

"Did you know my family was in danger?"

"Of course I didn't." He reaches out to me, but I pull away, taking a step back.

"Maksim," I whisper with so much disappointment, I can't muster saying any more.

He hangs onto his innocence for a moment, keeping the mask on, but when he closes and opens his eyes, the gut-wrenching guilt makes everything inside of me tear. I was wrong. Honesty makes nothing better.

"Weeks ago, before I paid off the organization and before your location was even discovered, Alik found out Daniel's wife was making the ridiculous request that your family be murdered. I knew it wasn't going to happen then, and it isn't going to happen now."

"You knew." A bitter, dry laugh bubbles up my throat. "Are you psychic?"

"They're in Albania." He says it without the conviction needed to offer any level of comfort. Because regardless of how confident he was then, he isn't so confident now.

"Then why are you sending someone to protect them?"

He opens his mouth but hesitates before speaking. "Because I don't want to risk it."

" Now ," I say, not quite sneering. Not with nearly the amount of bite I wish I had. "Now that we're sleeping together, you don't want to risk it. Before, you had no trouble."

"There was no potential hit out before," he counters. As if reminded of the fact, his eyes scan the road before finding the house. "We need to go. We can talk about this later."

I give my head a slight shake before stepping toward the drive. I don't know how I'm possibly going to get to Albania, but I know for certain I won't stay here. "Be safe, Maksim."

"Where are you going?"

I don't answer.

"Elira, stop being proud and get back here."

When I make it to the drive, I start toward the road, pulling out my phone.

" Lislchka ."

My chest squeezes hard enough that I put my hand over my heart, but I don't stop. Ringing is loud in my ear, but when my mother's voicemail plays, the world silences as panic slices me. I hang up and try again.

When I hear Maksim's heavy feet shuffling down the drive, I pick up my pace.

"You know I can't let you leave."

"I'm not your prisoner," I yell over the ringing.

Voicemail again.

"Then let's talk."

Hang up. Redial.

Voicemail.

"Elira."

"You want to talk , Maksim?" I yell, whipping around and stabbing at my phone in frustration to hang up on my mother's voicemail.

Talk .

As if this is something we can work through. As if there's anything to salvage.

A half hour ago, he was talking about me leaving this place. He's been putting measures in place, hinting at wanting me to go. When I first learned of him giving my family money, I thought it was… I thought it meant something different. It felt like love. Now it feels like he was paying to get rid of me.

And it's worked.

But I don't care about that anymore. I can't. The only thing that matters is getting to my family somehow. Getting a hold of them. Warning them.

"While you were putting my family in danger, I was mending yours." I take a step toward him and get the urge to slap him but keep my shaking hands at my sides, my phone tight in my grasp. Frustrated and scared tears blur his image.

"I cared for your sister from the day I met her. She's a child. She…" I shake my head as my voice cracks. "Even when I hated you, even when I was ready to kill you, I never would've stood by while she was harmed. Never."

"I know," he says, pained. "I know that. If I could go back in time and make another decision, I would. I…" His throat works as he swallows. "Come to Hugh's with me, and the first thing we will do is search for an associate in Albania to help your family. As soon as it's safe, we'll get you a flight there. I promise. I'll even go with you, if you want."

"You have all the answers." My heart feels like it's coming up my throat. "But it's too late. I'm sorry."

I turn and start down the road, already feeling the ache of unrequited love. The fear of the unknown. The grief of loss.

I hold up my phone, ready to dial my mother again, terrified of what I'll do if I'm too late, but I gasp as I'm jerked backward.

Maksim throws me over his shoulders with strong arms that would never make for a fair match and ignores my protests when I yell out and beat my fists on his back.

"I'm sorry," he says, but he sounds sure of his decision. "You'll forgive me for this."

"Let me go!"

"I have to keep you safe. I'll never forgive myself if I don't."

"You don't even want me," I cry. "You're trying to buy your way out of my life."

His hand on my thigh squeezes. "That isn't true."

"It is true!" My body goes limp against him as I drop my phone in the grass and let out a loud, embarrassing groan against his back. This sight must be absurd, but it's hard to care.

Why? Why is my life so full of heartache?

How much can one person take?

Maksim stops on the porch and sets me on my feet, taking my shoulders to steady me. " Lislchka …"

"Stop," I snap, swatting his hands away and taking a step back. For a moment, he looks like he's trying to corner a wild animal, ready to pounce at me if I try to get away, but I don't run. We've done this dance before. I know he's faster. "Don't call me lislchka anymore. We're not a couple. We're not even friends."

His eyes narrow. "Stop being ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous ." My words sound over-the-top. Dramatic. Resembling Anya. They sound, well, ridiculous.

I don't have time for this.

I tuck my hair behind my ear while pretending to look away shamefully, while really searching for a weapon. If he won't let me leave willingly, I'll have to leave by force. He's stronger, faster, and more practiced. But I'm smarter, and he never ceases to underestimate me. Of all of Maksim's flaws, that's his biggest.

The clay flowerpot I'm hopelessly trying to grow oregano in sits on a bench by the door. There are others, bigger and sturdier, but my eyes choose it.

"I love you."

I freeze, my hand still at my ear, my heart stopping for a moment.

I couldn't have heard him right.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am for not taking the threat to your family seriously, but I still believe they're safe. I will do everything in my power to ensure it and will treat them as my own blood from this day forward, I swear on my life. You are…"

My eyes find him as he clears his throat. I don't know what to think. I want to be happy, but I'm in too much shock to process his words.

"You are not a prisoner, but you are my life. And I can't bear the thought of losing you like this, so please," he gestures toward the door. "Let's get Anya and Hugh and get someplace safe."

"I'm just supposed to trust you now?" I ask, my voice small, swept up in his revelation. My heart begs me to proclaim my love, but I hate him and love him simultaneously for doing this now. Here. Like this. With so much going on. So much happening. "I'm just supposed to stand by while my family is in danger?"

"You can trust me." He steps forward and takes my hand. "I promise you?—"

"Would you do it?"

His mouth closes. Lines form between his eyes as he waits for me to go on.

"If it were Anya in danger, and I promised you I had someone on their way to protect her, would you sit back with me and wait?"

His face hardens slightly, but I can tell he's trying to stay neutral. We both know the answer.

Of course he wouldn't.

I squeeze his hand and lean into him before he can lie. "I trust you… Just don't let me down."

He sighs, his shoulders sagging with what looks like relief at not having to answer my question. "I won't."

He turns to the door and opens it while I lean forward and busy myself brushing dirt off my legs. "Could you try calling Mami? I can't get through to her."

"Uh, yeah, sure." He pulls his phone from his pocket and unlocks it. "What's the number?"

While his eyes are aimed at the screen, I give him the number and grab the clay pot as I stand. In one graceful movement, I swing it across his head, shattering it to bits.

He topples in a giant heap of perfect muscle, and I dive to catch his head just in time.

Closing my eyes and letting out a long-held breath, I gently lower his head to rest on the ground.

Planting a kiss to his lips while snaking my hand in his pants to retrieve his wallet and keys, I ignore the pain in my chest.

"I love you too."