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Gleb glances toward the door. “It must be Lev and Denka.”
Frowning, I follow his gaze. “Why would they be here?”
“I’m leaving Denka with you. He will keep you safe while Lev and I go to Boston to sort things out with Vinny.” Dropping his napkin on the table, Gleb starts to rise.
“Wait, what?” I reach out and grasp his hand, stopping him as I implore him with my eyes. “I agreed to stay in because I thought you were staying with me. We were supposed to be waiting for the danger to pass.”
“You’re staying in to avoid putting yourself, Gabby, or the Veles family in unnecessary danger. I’m staying away from Pyotr and Silvia for their safety. But this isn’t just going to blow over, Mel. Vinny needs to be dealt with.”
Gleb’s green eyes are steely, authoritative. They command me to see things his way. Though he just said last night that he wouldn’t be that way with me.
“I don’t like the thought of hiding away while you face the danger without me. I’m the reason this happened in the first place, and you’re the one they’re trying to kill. Maybe I should be the one trying to convince them to back down.” My grip tightens on Gleb’s palm, and I can feel Gabby start to squirm on my lap as she finally picks up on the growing tension.
“That’s not going to happen,” Gleb growls, his face taking on that passive expression, which serves as a perfect mask.
“You’re doing it again—taking control rather than having a discussion. You said you would work on it.” My temper’s rising, my frustration crowding my brain.
“I know, but in this case, we don’t have another option because I will not let you walk right back into the hands of a dangerous lunatic. I don’t doubt that Vinny’s perfectly capable of killing you. At the very least, he would punish you and refuse to let you leave. You’re not going back to Boston.”
“Gleb,” I scold. Can he even hear himself right now? One command after another. Not even an attempt at having a rational conversation. He made this decision without me, and once again, I find my freedom of choice being ripped from my grasp.
“Look, Mel, I won’t be perfect in a day. And we both clearly still need to work on our weaknesses. But this isn’t the time or the situation to be focusing on my ability to negotiate.”
This rocks me back on my heels, and it feels as bad as a slap in the face. “What’s that supposed to mean? ‘We both clearly need to work on our weaknesses.’”
I can feel my temperature rising, my frustration building to the point of boiling over. And I come to a stand, my arm circling around Gabby’s waist to bring her with me. She squirms in my grip, whining in agitation as she struggles to turn and face me.
I oblige her, shifting her to one hip without breaking eye contact with Gleb. And Gabby wraps her arms around my neck as her eyes shift between us.
Gleb rises with me, his tone measured and his eyes crackling with unspoken frustration. “I can tell you’re keeping something from me,” he states. And though his voice is calm, his words careful, it turns my veins to ice.
He’s talking about the secret I’ve kept about Gabby.
I was trying to open up. I was working through my fear, but then we got interrupted.
It hardly seems fair that he can hold it against me when he’s not even attempting to be less controlling.
“That’s not?—”
Before I can finish my statement, I’m cut off once again. Only this time, the person knocking borders on aggressive. It sounds like a fist hammering against the wood—bam-bam-bam!
Gleb snarls, his eyes flashing toward the door as his hands ball into fists. And as he starts to stalk toward the door, I lose my cool completely.
“Oh, so now you’re walking away?” I demand, stomping after him.
“No, I’m about to tell them to fuck off until we’re done arguing,” he growls.
I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse, but I slow my steps and watch as he slinks lithely toward the door. Even when he’s pissed, Gleb looks graceful, his body shifting like that of a big cat when he moves.
“Mama,” Gabby whispers, her fingers tightening in my hair, and I can feel her hummingbird heartbeat as she leans more fully against my side.
“It’s okay, keiki,” I assure her, cradling her face against my cheek. I’m such a bad mom for arguing in front of her. I should have waited. Found a better way to say things. Maybe taken her to our room before I laid into Gleb.
But my temper got the best of me, and now she’s scared.
“Mama,” she whimpers, her voice growing more agitated as she keeps her eyes locked on the door.
Her little body trembles against me, and it breaks my heart. Is she scared of Gleb? Scared of him opening the door?
