Page 64 of Conceal

“Mik, you have no idea...” she starts, and jealousy burns deep in my gut. The gentleness in her voice is one she uses only for him.

I’ve been wasting my days fighting and drinking and running away, while Mik’s been making moves behind the scenes. Why didn’t I think to hide Juliet for her? He’s a better man than I am. He hasn’t given up on a future together. He’s been moving in silence. A silent rebellion against the Chernovs and their unfair treatment of their daughter.

I walk down the aisle, Roman following me, wanting to give them privacy to catch up and to sit in this jealousy in the hopes of processing it. I’m not running anymore.

But what else can we do?

The me itching for a fight wants to drive to the Vitale mansion and just open fire. See how far I can get; hope to bleed.

But the man that deserves Tatiana needs to be smarter than that. If I want a future with her, however short that future may be, I need to be smarter.

Stepping back outside, I turn my face up to the sun and breathe.

Until a meaty hand slaps me on my shoulder.

“How you holding up?” Roman asks.

He’s been keeping tabs on me, too, knowing I’m spiraling. I don’t understand how so much has changed over the past few months, but the woman I loved antagonizing has now become my reason to breathe. And then she was stolen from me.

I shake my head. “Not good. But I’m getting there.” If I’m not smart enough to figure out how to steal her back, maybe he is. “What do we do? How do we get her back?”

Even if we stormed the Vitale mansion and got her back, we’d have to answer to her father and her brother. Giovanni won’t tolerate the slight - his ego and temper would never allow it. Then we’d have to confess to Dmitri and Nikolai that we’re in love with her. Which will almost certainly be our death sentence, right?

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I’m working an angle, but I don’t want to promise anything because it might not pay out.”

Every possibility seems like a dead end. And I hate living in the unknown. Is Giovanni going to hurt her? Is she safe? Will she ever get out? If so, how? Does she have to escape herself? How can she without starting a war?

Mik steps outside and passes the phone to me. I take it eagerly from him.

Roman slaps me on the shoulder again before following Mik back into the barn.

I slam my back against the barn wall and slide down to my ass. Her beautiful face is staring back at me. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but she’s smiling. For a good long time, all we do is look at each other. I try to memorize every piece of her, because I don’t know when I’ll get to see her next.

“Nice surprise?” I ask, finally, needing to hear her voice, needing to know that she’s okay.

Her smile widens. “The best,” she says, before sobering. “How are you? Are you okay? Is that a black eye?”

I wince, knowing what I look like.

“You should see the other guy,” I tease, but it doesn’t land. She simply stares and waits me out. I hang my head in shame. “I’ve been struggling without you.”

She doesn’t respond; because she’s been struggling, too. That’s the unfair part of all of this. None of us wanted this. None of us were given a choice or a voice to object. We’re just the ones paying the price for someone else’s benefit.

“Don’t give up on me,” she says, and it’s so quiet I almost miss it.

Give up on her? I’ll be dead before I give up on her. I don’t even justify her with a reply.

“Does this mean I’ll be seeing more of you?” I ask, hopeful that FaceTiming can become more of a regular thing.

She bites her lip and looks to the side, but nods.

“I’m sorry about your mother,” I add quickly, not wanting to minimize her pain.

Her lower lip trembles, but she doesn’t cry. I give her credit for that, my brave girl.

“Thank you.”

We stare at each other again in silence. This isn’t what we normally do. We tease, we show each other love by silent acts of service; we don’t gush about our feelings to each other. But in the silence sits everything we know, but can’t say.