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Chapter 13
ANDREY
I don’t know when last I took a stroll through a park holding hands with someone. Actually, I don’t think I’ve done anything like this. It feels so normal, and I can’t say I’m not enjoying the feeling.
Isabella sighs as she finishes the last bite of her sandwich. “That’s filled the gap.” Her eyes look up as we clear the park and step into the town center. “The train station isn’t far.” She points just up that road.
“I don’t know whether to be impressed or fucking terrified that you have a go-bag stashed at a train station.”
Isabella shrugs and then smiles. “I was taught how to disappear.” She glances around. “I always thought it was because my father was so paranoid at what happened to my mother and brother that he wanted to make sure I was prepared.”
“But now you know it was because he was preparing you because he had an inclination of what was going to happen the closer it got to your twenty-first.”
“Probably.” She nods and sighs again. “I still can’t believe how my life went from what it was to this!” Her eyes darken. “One minute, I’m about to face my father and tell him I’m going to Vegas for my twenty-first. The next, I’m running for my life, married, pregnant, and some sort of key to stopping a war or bringing peace to the Bratva.”
“I know how it feels to suddenly have the life you wanted pulled out from under you,” I tell her. “I was supposed to become a surgeon. Lev was going to be Pakhan. I would still help the family, but my contributions were supposed to be helping with knife or bullet wounds.”
“I was really shocked to find out you were a surgeon!” she tells me. “I was not expecting that.”
“Life doesn’t always turn out like we want it to.” We stop at the train station. “As much as I wanted to shy away from my family’s responsibilities, I couldn’t. It’s the life we were born into, and unfortunately, there’s no escaping it.” I purse my lips. “I guess deep down I knew even if I wasn’t going to be Pakhan, my surgical skills weren’t going to be used at a hospital—too much ethical conflict.”
“Lev and Stacy are going to live their life like they want to,” Isabella informs me and frowns. I feel my heart squeeze as she lets go of my hand and leads us to a wall of lockers. “They’re going to live in Italy when all this is over, and it’s safe for them to travel.” Her frown deepens. “Although I don’t know that Italy is the right place to escape crime lords. At least they’re getting away from here.”
“I’m still in shock that my brother’s alive,” I admit. “I wonder if my mother knows?” I look at her questioningly. “Does he look well?”
“Yes.” She nods. “He has to wear leg braces to help him walk and has pain. But otherwise, I think he and Stacy are just glad to be reunited.” Her eyes scan the lockers. “As for your mother, I think she has an inkling at least.”
“My mother never could accept Lev was dead.”
Isabella rummages in the bag, pulling out a key. “Here it is—thank you, Konstantin. He must’ve made a copy.” She turns back to the lockers and points. “There it is.”
Isabella opens the locker and pulls out another duffel bag. I shield her with my body from prying eyes while she takes out what we need from the old duffel, puts it in the new one, and shoves the old one into the locker.
“All done.” Isabella straps the new bag across her body.
“Where to now?” I ask.
“To buy bus tickets to Montreal,” she replies.
“I still say we should drive there,” I tell her. “We have a perfectly safe and comfortable car.”
She stands and chews the side of her mouth thoughtfully. “I guess we could do that.” Her eyes narrow. “Once in Montreal, we have to ditch it though. We can leave the car at the airport and take a train to another town.”
“That sounds like a plan,” I agree. “We can even get some rest on the train if we get a cabin.”
“I would prefer that to flying.” Something flashes in her eyes. “I don’t really enjoy flying,” she admits.
“Then let’s do that,” I tell her before admitting, “I don’t like buses.”
“Okay.” She smiles. “Let’s get back to the car.”
We walk back the way we came. As we near the end of the park, we can see the back door to our motel room from here. It is open, and two men step out from it.
I slip behind a tree and pull Isabella with me.
“What the fuck!” Isabella hisses, and I put my hand over her mouth, shaking my head and pointing.
She peeks around the tree and quickly steps back against me.
