Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Abby

Ifeel sick as I sit here, surrounded by my crying babies and staring at the dried bloodstain on the floor. There’s no telling who it belongs to or how long it’s been here, but I’m willing to bet it’s not a good sign.

The room they’re keeping us in is small and windowless. It’s barely a closet, really, with no ventilation and no source of light except for a dim bulb that hangs from the ceiling. It’s hot and stuffy and it smells like a mixture of sweat and urine.

I can’t imagine what the Irish want with me or my babies, but I’m guessing it has something to do with the Bratva. They want to get back at Maks for something. Maybe for interfering in their operation.

But whatever the case, I know I’m not leaving this room alive unless someone helps me. Unless someone rescues me.

As if reading my mind, one of the babies starts to cry and won’t stop, and I feel my stomach sink as I realize we’re running out of time. I gather her up and try to feed her, but Olga is completely uninterested, and I tuck my shirt back up and try my best to comfort her.

The door swings open, and I’m suddenly face-to-face with one of my captors. Light brown, shaggy hair. Pale blue eyes. And a sneer on his lips that twists his face in a way that draws more attention to his slightly crooked nose, as if someone had broken it and it never set straight.

“Shut it up,” he growls, gesturing toward the baby.

I don’t respond, but I don’t make a move either, only glaring up at him. I’m already holding Olga and rocking her, I don’t know what else he thinks I can do to make her stop crying.

He steps into the room and looms over me when I don’t move, and I know that’s a threat. “I’m not asking. If you cooperate, I might keep you alive.”

“Who are you?” I ask. “What do you want from me?”

“Brennan Kelly.” He holds out a hand as if I might shake it, then shrugs when I just glare at him. “Pleasure to finally meet the woman who has fucked up so many of my plans.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything to you or messed up any plans.”

“But you have,” he says, shaking his head. “So many plans that were years in the making.”

I still don’t know what he’s talking about, but I sort of recognize the man’s name. I’ve overheard Maks grumbling to Lev about how this Brennan guy wants to reignite some kind of turf war between the Irish and the Bratva. I just don’t understand where I fit in.

“If you’d just been content to mind your business,” he continues. “You probably could’ve avoided a lot of this trouble if you’d simply left poor Booker alone.”

“Booker?” I stare at him in disbelief. “That’s what all this is about? Some money he scammed from a few people?”

“Some money?” He shakes his head again. “He was working for me, you know. Had a sweet little racket going, but then you got involved. Your little foundation, investigating him, getting the word out.”

“He’s a con artist,” I hiss. “He stole from innocent people. From children. How could you condone that?”

“It’s called business, lass,” he says, giving me a wink. “But enough chitchat. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

“Wait.” My eyes go wide with a realization. “You’re the one who broke into my office?”

“There it is,” he says with a smile. “I was wondering when that would click into place for you. Yes, those were my guys. We found a lot of interesting stuff, but nothing particularly useful for my needs.”

I almost wanted to just hunch into myself and ignore him, hope he leaves or gets on with whatever he plans to do, but it occurs to me that if—if anyone is going to come for me, if anyone knows I’m even missing, then I might as well keep this man talking and try to bide for time.

So I shift Olga in my arms, who has thankfully stopped crying, and ask him, “Your needs?”

“Well, you’re really rather annoying, to be honest.” My brows lower at that, and I’m oddly offended even though I really shouldn’t care what he thinks, as he continues. “But if we just got rid of you, ugh, think of all the police that would be buzzing around the whole thing, looking into your life and finding all that info you had on Booker. Then that’s two connected murders, with everything they need right there in your files for them to start looking in our direction.”

“Wait, wait,” I interrupt, “but youdidtry to kill me! Those guys that rear-ended me…”

He scoffs and slips both his hands casually into his pockets. “Nah. Just trying to scare you and all, thought maybe your scrawny ass would back off. But no, you had to go to the bloody Bratva, didn’t you? Now youwere in too deep. So we had your friend Alyosha cook up some bank statements that looked a little more damning. Oh, and that fake paternity test was a nice touch, don’t you think? No fair if you’re the only one ruining plans, am I right?”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Maks thought I did it,” I whisper, shaking my head. “The paternity test, the scamming. He thinks I did all of that.”

Brennan rolls his eyes and speaks mockingly. “Uh, yeah, that’s the general idea. How else were we going to get him to kick you out from under his protection?” He shakes his head, looks around as if to find a chair, shrugs when he realizes the room is empty, and then crouches down before me. “It was a real pain in the ass for us, too, trying to set that shit up. But Alyosha’s good at what he does.”

I can only glare at him, angry and shocked and still processing his words, and he grins at me, slow and mean.

“Ah, I do love a good gloat,” he says, before reaching over and taping me on the nose with a finger. I flinch angrily away from him, which only makes him smile harder.

“Well, you’ve succeeded. Now what do you want from me?”

“Oh, a little revenge, I guess. And the money. You’ll pay us back the money you cost us when we had to shut down our little operation, and that will go nicely with all the new territory Maksim is going to hand over to keep you alive.”

“He won’t do it,” I say. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

“Well, then we’ll kill you, no big deal. Now that you’re all nice and guilty looking, the police will think you and Booker were in a little war with each other, and that you and your people offed one another. They won’t investigate further. Case closed, nice and easy. But it’s worth the time to wait and see if your little boyfriend will cooperate, just to make sure.”

I open my mouth to tell him exactly what I think of him, his men, and his awful plan. Before I can say anything, though, the sound of gunshots and men yelling takes us both by surprise.

Brennan turns to look out the door and I can’t help the gasp that slips out of me, even as all four of my babies begin to wail.

“Maksim?” I whisper, hoping against hope that this is the rescue I need.

But Brennan just sighs and turns back towards me.

“Really, really fucking annoying,” he mutters, “the both of you.”

And then he swings his fist at my jaw, and I black out.

***

Maksim’s face is the first thing I see when I open my eyes. My mouth is dry and my whole head hurts, but I still try to sit up on my own before he stops me and eases me back down onto a pillow.

“Where am I?” I try to get up, but I just can’t. “Where are my kids?”

“You’re safe,” he says, holding me tight for a moment. “The kids are safe. We’re here at my house and Nadia has them in the other room.”

I exhale a relieved breath. “What happened? How did you find me? How did you even know where I was?”

“Alyosha.” The name alone turns my stomach. “I was wrong. It was Alyosha. I should have trusted you. I’m sorry, Abby.”

“I know.”

“I would have been too late. I would have lost you.”

“But you weren’t.” I can feel my eyes starting to water. “You saved us.”

“Not without a lot of help.”

“What happened to the Irish?”

“Taken care of.”

It’s a simple answer, but it’s enough for now. I nod and close my eyes for a second, just taking everything in.

“I love you, Abby,” he says, his deep voice soothing me. “I’m so sorry for the way I’ve acted. I’ve been a fool. I was blinded by my hurt feelings and I don’t expect you to forgive me. I can’t blame you if—”

“You hurt me,” I say quietly, opening my eyes again and letting all my emotions shine through—the hurt, the despair I felt when he turned me away, everything. “You didn’t trust me, you didn’t listen or give me a real chance to prove a thing. You turned me away into danger. Me and your children. On the word of one man.”

His lips purse together, and he looks down, drawing his hands away from me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, before taking a deep breath and looking back up. “I’ve lived my life on the fringes of society, in the darkness, where good people don’t go. You were…you are too good to be true, beautiful. I don’t deserve you. So when a man I trusted told me that it was all a fantasy, I believed it. Because it made more sense that a man like me couldn’t have a woman like you. It made more sense that you weren’t good, because I’m not good enough for you.”

My heart sinks as he speaks, his words earnest and quiet, his voice broken. I open my mouth to reply, to say something, anything, but the words won’t come.

“It’s alright,” he says with a soft, defeated smile. “I understand. I won’t try and convince you to come back to me.”

“Maksim…” I choke, but he shakes his head, pushing a strand of my undoubtedly messy hair back from my face.

“It’s alright.” he repeats. “I’m going to look after you, regardless. I will provide for you and our children for as long as you need. Longer. And I just hope that in time you can trust me enough to let me be a part of their lives. That’s all I ask.”

I reach out and capture his hand with both of mine, drawing it forward so I can kiss his palm, before laying it across my cheek. He takes a deep breath, and I hold his hand to my face so he doesn’t move it.

“Maksim,” I try again, “You hurt me, and you turned me away, and I left. But even so, even after all that, you came for me. You saved me, you saved our children. You didn’t stop caring. You didn’t hesitate.”

He curls his fingers into my skin, holding my face in his hand, and when I look into his eyes they’re blazing with heat and…and love, I can see the love shining right through him.

“Nobody’s perfect,” I whisper. “We all make mistakes, we all grow. And it’s me that’s not good enough for you, Maks. I didn’t even try to fight that night, not really. I just turned and ran. I should have—”

“Don’t,” he growls, leaning closer to me, palms still warm against my cheek. “You did what you had to. I was angry, and you had the children to think of.”

“Even so—” But his thumb shifts to cover my lips, and I stop talking.

“You’re perfect,” he says, before his hand slips down to cover my neck, right where he held me in anger. But his fingers are gentle, and he stares down at his hand as if he, too, is remembering that moment and regretting every second of it. “I’m sorry.”

“I do, you know,” I say as I stare at him, willing him to feel all the good things in my heart for him, too. All the love and peace he brings me, all the joy our union has made, everything. “I do forgive you. I forgave you before you even came for me. I was already trying to make my way back to you. I love you, and I refuse to let go of what we have. I refuse.”

He surges forward suddenly, claiming my lips with his in a searing kiss, claiming every inch of my heart, and we both pour everything we have into each other through our lips.

When he finally pulls back, we’re both out of breath, and he leans his forehead against mine. “All I want is for us to be together. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Me too,” I whisper, my heart racing.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he promises. “The Irish are done. I have no doubt. We’re safe.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” He shifts up and kisses my forehead gently. “We have nothing to worry about. We have each other, and the children. That’s all that matters.”

I know he’s right, and as the realization sinks in, I start to cry. Tears of happiness.

“I’m sorry, Abby. For all the times I’ve doubted you.”

“I forgive you,” I say, sniffling. “Just promise me you’ll never do it again.”

“Never,” he swears, and I believe him. “I know better, now.”

“If there’s ever any doubts, we talk about it, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Really talk about it. No shouting and threatening. We listen to each other, we try to be rational. You and me both. No matter what.”

“I promise.”

“Good.” I lean back and smile at him, taking a deep breath and enjoying the feeling of being in his arms again. “So where do we go from here? What does forever look like now that the Irish are out of the picture?”

“I can’t promise I’ll ever lead a normal life, beautiful. You know who I am and what I do. But I can promise that I’ll always come home to you at the end of the day. I’ll always put you and the kids first and I’ll give my life to keep you safe and happy. Always.”

I close my eyes and lean into his touch, letting his words wash over me and soothe me.

He’s right. I know who he is and what he does. But it’s worth it to be with him.

“I love you, Abby,” he says again.

“I love you, too.”

He presses his lips against mine, kissing me tenderly. My heart swells in my chest, and I know I’ve never felt so happy or so complete.

This is everything I’ve ever wanted, and I can’t imagine how my life could get any better.

***

When I wake up again, he’s in bed next to me. I’m in his arms and his naked body is pressed up against my back and I’m reminded of just how sexy he is.

And just how much I’ve missed his touch.

“You’re awake,” he murmurs, kissing my naked shoulder. “How do you feel?”

“Better now,” I say, meaning it. “Better in every sense of the word. Did you undress me?”

He grins. “Yes.”

“Pervert,” I chuckle, even as I turn towards him.

“Is it so wrong for me to undress my woman, so she can be comfortable?” His rough hand skims up and down my side, cupping my ass and pulling me even tighter against him.

“Oh, so this was about comfort, was it?” I curl my leg over his hip, and he closes his eyes and buries his face in my neck.

“God, I’ve missed you. Missed everything about you.”

I draw him up and kiss him, and his hands are all over me, cupping my breasts and teasing my nipples. His lips trail down my neck, sucking and biting, and I moan his name.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly with desire. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m fine,” I reassure him. “I need you. I want you.”

His mouth captures mine in another hungry, demanding kiss and I can feel his hard cock pressing against me. I moan into his mouth as his tongue darts out, sliding against mine and teasing me. His fingers pluck my nipples, and my hips buck involuntarily, seeking his touch.

He slides his hand down between my legs and strokes me, his fingers brushing against my clit.

“Maks,” I whimper, arching against him. “Please.”

“Yes, Abby,” he whispers. “Whatever you want. I’m yours.”

“I’m yours, too.” My voice is husky and low, and he growls softly as he slips a finger inside me.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his eyes locked on mine. “You’re so wet, beautiful. So fucking wet and tight.”

I reach down and wrap my hand around his cock, stroking him as he pumps his fingers in and out of me, and he lets out a tight groan.

“Please,” I moan. “I need you inside me.”

This isn’t going to be slow and drawn out. I’m too greedy for him right now. This is going to be fast and rough and primal.

He slides his finger out of me and grips my hip, flipping me onto my stomach and positioning me on all fours. He enters me from behind, thrusting deep inside me with one swift motion, and I cry out.

It’s like our bodies are made for each other. I was meant for him, and he was meant for me. We fit together perfectly.

He pounds into me, his grip on my hips tightening as he drives into me harder and faster. His balls slap against me with each thrust and I moan, my body shuddering beneath him.

“Come for me, Abby,” he grunts, his voice thick and heavy with lust. “Come for me. I want to hear you come.”

“I’m so close,” I gasp, pushing back against him, urging him deeper inside me.

His fingers find my clit again, and he strokes me, circling the sensitive nub until I’m crying out, my whole body tensing.

“Maks,” I moan. “I’m going to come. Oh fuck.”

“That’s it, baby,” he groans. “Come for me. Come on my cock.”

My whole body convulses as I explode, waves of pleasure washing over me as he continues to pound into me. “Oh fuck, Maks,” I rasp, my voice hoarse with ecstasy. “Yes!”

He growls, his pace picking up as he fucks me harder and faster, his fingers still working my clit. “Fuck, baby,” he pants. “I’m close. You feel so fucking good.”

He thrusts into me one more time, burying himself to the hilt, and then he comes, his hot seed flooding my pussy.

I collapse on the bed, and he falls on top of me, kissing the nape of my neck.

“You’re mine, Abby,” he whispers. “And I’m yours.”

“Mine,” I agree, smiling.

This is everything I’ve ever wanted, and so much more.

We’re not perfect, but we’re perfect for each other, and this is where we’re supposed to be.

Together.

Forever.