Page 122 of Deviant Need

“She knows I killed him. And she knows about us.”

My pulse kicks up. “And what’s her reaction to it?”

“She understands. About us, I mean. She wants to talk to us when we get home about everything.”

“I don’t want to hear it, to be honest,” I say bitterly. “It’s Mateo’s fault both of us almost died.”

Mikhail shifts slightly, adjusting the pillows behind me. “I don’t think so, and I think Yulian called Mateo to be there. The Nozares attack happened because of him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Think about it. How convenient is it that they just happened to show up at that event right after Yulian said he would sort something out? He was supposed to handle our father’s death, and instead the Nozares attacked. Nothing went according to our plan. That’s not a coincidence. And I think Yulian knows Mateo personally. Did you hear how they were talking to each other?”

I try thinking it over, my brain still moving slower than usual from all the medication. Yeah, okay. That makes sense. A lot of sense, actually.

He waves me off. “Maybe I’m wrong. But I trust him.” A pause. “He said he’ll tell us everything soon. We just have to wait.”

As much of a dick as Yulian is, I don’t believe he’d intentionally hurt any of us.

“She just said it was okay? About us being together? She doesn’t care?”

“No, she doesn’t care that we’re together. She just wants us to keep it secret for now.”

“Secret?”

“Just to be safe while everything settles after his death. People are going to be watching the family closely, trying to see who takes over, looking for weaknesses. She thinks if anyone outside the family finds out about us right now, it could be used against us.”

I don’t want that…

“How long does she want us to keep it secret?”

“She didn’t say exactly. Just until things calm down.” He reaches over and takes my hand, lacing our fingers together. “But I don’t care what she wants. I’m not hiding you forever. Just long enough to keep you safe.”

Nodding, I bring his hands to my lips and press a soft kiss to his knuckles.

He glances at the door, then stands and leans down to kiss me. I part my lips instantly and let him in, tasting him, losing myself in the heat of his mouth. His tongue slides against mine, and I grip the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

He keeps his hand on my chin, and then he hisses when his stitches pull and has to pull back. I bite my lip and shift over on the narrow hospital bed, making room. He crawls in beside me, groaning as he settles against the pillows, and presses his lips to my temple. He breathes in deep, his nose buried in my hair.

“We need to get that watermelon smell back on you immediately,” he mumbles, and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.

He’s lost so much weight since the shooting, since everything went down. We both have.

I still can’t believe we’re free. I’m curious to hear what Lina has to say about my past, about who I really am.

“Can I ask you a favor?” I ask.

“Anything.”

“Can we write down questions for her and you ask them when we finally talk about what happened?”

“That’s a good idea,” he says, already pulling out his phone and opening his notes app. “Tell me what you want to know.”

Taking a breath, I start listing everything I can think of. He types everything down, just letting me get it all out, and when I’m done, he pockets his phone and turns to face me properly.

He cups my chin and tilts my face up to his. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Misha,” I say, and wrap my arms around him, careful of his stitches.