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I withdrew my own phone, opening it to a picture of Roan. It showed him smiling, even though he was looking away from the camera. I don’t even remember what he was so happy about, but it was one of my favorite pictures of him, probably because it captured him so well — warm, radiant, perfect. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen that smile lately. As a result, I wanted to live inside that picture, withthatRoan, not the one I’d been sharing an apartment with for the past few months.
Holding up the picture for Ilya, I arched an eyebrow at him. “This is who you’ll be guarding.”
Ilya nodded, his face blank.
“If he dies,youdie,” I said matter-of-factly. “If he’shurt, you die. If he comes home with so much as a scratch on him, you die. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“I don’t give a fuck who your family is,” I added when his gaze darted to Misha. “You work for me, not Misha. These are the terms. Take them or leave them.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Good. Meet me at the Adler Theater tomorrow at ten.”
Ilya nodded once again and shook my hand with a firm grip. I felt the tiniest bit better knowing Roan would be in safe hands, no matter how pissed he’d be.
With the weight finally lifted from my shoulders, I turned and followed Misha out of the basement gym. We made our way up the stairs to the ground floor and exited into an alley, climbing into the back of his waiting Escalade.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was related to you?” I asked once we were settled and the car was underway.
Misha laughed. “I didn’t know you’d pick him. You had some of the best in the business in there.”
He might have found the situation amusing, but I sure as hell didn’t. Roan’s safety, his life, was the furthest thing from a joking matter. “You know I won’t hesitate to kill him if he fucks up.”
“He won’t.” Misha gave me a pointed look. No doubt he’d trained Ilya personally and if the boy was half as good as his uncle, Roan would be nearly as safe as he was with me.
“Good.” I gave my phone, and Roan’s picture, one last glance before tucking it in the inner pocket of my suit jacket. “Where are we going?”
“To get information,” Misha replied with a bright smile. “How is Roan?”
“Normal.” The weight of Misha’s stare was crushing. I finally looked up, right into his sky-blue eyes. As usual they were waiting, patient and knowing. “What do you expect me to say?”
“The truth.”
I scoffed and looked away again, watching the buildings rush by as we drove deeper into the heart of Chicago. “The truth… I don’t know what that is because he won’t say. I see him. I feel him. Buthe’snot there and I don’t know how to bring him back.”
“You know these things take time,” Misha said gently. “You’ve seen what happens to men after they’ve been violated. It is a hard thing to come back from. Some people never do.”
My knuckles cracked the harder my fist tightened. I knew it had happened, obviously, but every time I thought about it my blood boiled all over again. How could I honestly expect Roan to move past it when I was enraged nearly everyday at the mere thought?
Misha wasn’t deterred by my silence. “Even after the body heals, the mind still carries the injury. All you can do is be there for him, no matter what he does to try and push you away. He may lash out at you, but in some way it’s because he knows you can take it. And youhaveto take it, Sasha. If you want him to move forward, he has to know you can handle anything — like he had to. Otherwise, there is no future for the two of you.”
I forced myself to nod, acknowledging the painful truth of his words. God knew I was trying to be there for him. It just wasn’t enough. Some days I saw the old Roan, but those days were fewer and far between. I couldn’t help but think perhaps he’d be better off if I did leave. Misha could talk to Sergei, insist on my returning to Russia, or any of the other European cities Sergei had connections with. That way Roan wouldn’t be reminded, day in and day out, of what happened — and why. He could move on completely, without my world overshadowing him, a constant threat hanging over both our heads.
“Neither down, nor feather,” Misha said, patting my knee.
“To the devil,” I replied flatly.
I appreciated the well wishes, but I doubted luck was on my side in this instance. Getting Roan back to normal was going to take more than superstition, but damned if I knew what that was.
2
ROAN
The soundof running water woke me out of a dead sleep. I reached for the pillow beside me, feeling nothing but air. Of course it was empty. It was almost always empty these days.
Checking my phone, I groaned at the time. Nearly three in the morning. Great.
