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“I know this is a lot,” I tell her calmly. “But we’re safe now.”
Geneva’s eyes bulge. “Safe?” she hisses in a hoarse whisper. “How can you possibly say that? What part of everything that just happened screamed ‘safe’ to you?”
“Geneva, let me explain—”
“No. We’re not talking here. Not while they can hear us.”
I dart a glance at Kolya and Milana. They’re sitting side by side, murmuring back and forth, faces placid and calm. If it weren’t for the urgency in their voices and the blood on Kolya’s hands, I might’ve thought they were whispering sweet nothings to each other.
I wrench my attention back to my sister. “Geneva, please.”
She throws me a glare that reminds me of our childhood, of every fight we’d ever had. I know that look. It means that it doesn’t matter how well I state my case—she’s not going to listen to me until she’s ready to.
With a deep sigh, I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. I feel a slight twinge in my stomach, grating and insistent. Resting my hand over my belly, I try to breathe deeply. In all the chaos of the night, I’d forgotten I was pregnant.
My breathing lulls me down. Lost somewhere between my thoughts and my impossibly confused emotions, I fall into a dream that’s born out of a memory.
And then even that fades, and all that’s left is darkness.
* * *
Back at the mansion, Milana points out the room next to mine. “This is yours,” she says to Geneva. “For as long as you want it.”
“You make it sound like I have the freedom to leave whenever I want to.” Geneva scowls. The vein in her forehead is throbbing like it always does when she’s worked up.
Milana fixes her with a dead smile. “You do—just as soon as we can make sure it’s safe for you.”
Geneva turns to me. “They feed you this crap, too?”
“Genny,” I say softly, putting my hand on her arm, “I know this is a lot, but it’s for your own protection.”
“Got it. So you’ve already drunk the Kool-Aid.”
Milana drops the smile like a hot potato. She holds out her hand, palm up. “Phone, please.”
Geneva recoils in shock. “Are you serious?”
“You can give it to me, or I can take it from you. Your choice.” Milana’s voice, as always, is pure, icy efficiency.
“I work out, you know,” Genny retorts. “I do Pilates.”
If the situation weren’t so serious, I might have laughed. As it stands, no one does. “I have black belts in Jiu Jitsu and Tae Kwon Do, I’m trained in every weapon known to man, and I have sixteen confirmed kills from over eight hundred yards away,” Milana shoots back without batting an eyelid. “But I’m sure your Pilates instructor is very good.”
Geneva’s jaw clenches. Too many seconds tick by and I’m worried someone’s blood is about to get spilled. Then, much to my relief, Geneva pulls out her phone and hands it to Milana.
“I don’t like you,” she hisses.
Milana rolls her eyes. “I assure you, the feeling is mutual.” She turns to me. “June, are you okay? Do you need anything?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
“I know you’re tired, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick check-in with Sara. Make sure everything’s okay with the baby. That was a lot of stress to deal with in one night.”
I glance at my sister. I want a check-up myself, for peace of mind if nothing else. But I don’t want to leave Geneva alone, either. Not just yet anyway. She’s fragile. We all are.
“Can I have an hour? I just want to… put my feet up for a bit.”
Milana gives me a small, knowing smile. “Of course. I’ll let Sara know to expect you.”
