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I chuckle, and Mel joins in as Gabby nods.
“You two do that. I’ll clean up the kitchen.”
Mel glances apologetically toward the mess of dishes and powder-coated counters. “I can help,” she offers.
“It’s fine,” I assure her, rising from my chair to collect the plates. “Really. The experience was worth the mess. Thanks for breakfast.”
My instinct would be to lean down and kiss her, but I’m not quite sure where Mel stands on displays of affection in front of her daughter. So, instead, I force my feet to carry me toward the kitchen.
Gabby propped on her hip, Mel heads back toward the hall, and a moment later, I hear the tub faucet turn on. Beneath the steady stream of water, I can catch their muted conversation, though none of the distinct words.
Shaking my head, I chuckle to myself as I start to clean up. It’s a wonder that someone so small can create such a big mess. But I meant every word I said to Mel. This might be the best meal I’ve ever had. It’s, without doubt, my favorite.
It takes nearly half an hour to wash the dishes, wipe down the counters and table, then sweep the floor clean. I stand debating whether a mop might not be necessary as well when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I retrieve it in case it’s a text from Pyotr or one of my men.
My pulse quickens when I see it’s encrypted.
Sascha.
My brother’s contacting me on his burner phone. Which means he must have something urgent to tell me. Swiping open the text, I read the curt, encoded message. A series of numbers broken in various spots by two periods and a comma followed by four letters. ASAP.
Blyat.
I glance at the clock above the stove. It’s just after noon. This must be important if he’s willing to risk meeting in broad daylight. But that’s what the message means. He’s given me coordinates to a location and the time he wants to meet. As soon as possible.
My stomach knots as I glance down the hallway. Mel and Gabby slipped from the bathroom to their bedroom just a few minutes ago; Mel’s little girl wrapped snugly in a towel as Mel carried her across the hall.
She’s not going to like it, but I have to go. If Sascha has important information—or needs my help—I can’t leave him hanging. It’s terrible timing, I know. But I’m my brother’s only point of contact, and with him behind enemy lines, I can’t risk leaving him exposed. I have to be at the meet-up point by the time he gets there.
Pulling up Lev’s number, I press call and raise the phone to my ear.
“Privet, bratok,” he greets, his tone instantly professional.
“I need you and Denka to come watch Mel and her daughter. I have to take care of some business that can’t wait.”
“We can be there in fifteen.”
I hang up, my eyes shifting back to the hallway. A heavy sense of dread settles in as I brace myself for the conversation ahead.
This isn’t going to go well.
23
MEL
Gleb’s clipped, one-sided phone conversation filters through the guest bedroom wall, and the contents of it put me on edge. As I finish tugging Gabby’s clean pair of pants into place, my mind races to come up with an acceptable way to handle the situation.
Because I can’t just watch Gleb walk out of the apartment again.
Not after everything that’s happened.
Even though I’m anticipating it, the soft knock on our bedroom door a moment later makes my heart skip a beat.
“Mel?” Gleb opens it a crack, then lets it swing wide once he’s sure he’s not intruding.
“I just need to change real quick. Gabby and I can be ready to go in five minutes,” I say confidently, rising from my crouch to face him.
