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I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Um, let’s pick a different day.”

“That’s a good plan. How about the day we found each other at the club?”

“Oh, you mean my worst mission where I was a sex object for a douchey guy who took me to a sex club, where I found out my boyfriend works, and where he was flirting with a woman who would later have a wedding with no cake?”

He sighs on the phone. “How about the first time we met up in secret?”

“I’ll have to check my calendar. I don’t remember the actual date,” I lie and laugh.

He groans and it sounds like there’s no air left in his lungs. “It’s a good thing I love you.”

“Worked out conveniently that way, didn’t it?”

“Ugh. you’re such a pain in my ass.”

“But you’ve got a cute ass. I don’t mind being a pain.” I laugh. “Love you too.”

I hang up the phone and sit in the car for a moment before taking out the sim card and snapping it in half. Getting out of the driver's seat, I put the phone under the tires then turn on the car. Amanda Chase plays through the speakers as I back up the car, crushing the phone. The entire drive back, I drop tiny piecesof the phone in garbage cans and off the side of the road. The journey back takes five hours between backtracking, pit stops, and side roads.

The things I do for love.

Dimitri and I meet up two more times before I get word that The Deviant claimed another victim. His name is Adam and he was Waverly’s ex boyfriend. I half expect the Four families to retaliate. But they stay silent.

You know when you watch something from a distance and think, “Yeah that’s a big fucking mistake.” That’s how I feel about the Four Families right now.

There’s a noose closing in on them, and they don’t even see it. It’s only a matter of time before something happens and I won’t be able to protect them.

Chapter

Thirty-Five

Dimitri

Father guilt is hitting hard today. It’s my sister-in-law’s death anniversary. It also means we’ve been in America for two years. Shouldn’t I have more to show for it?

I thought Katya and I would be together by now. Done with the secret meet-ups in random hotels when it’s “safe” for her. She should be here. Instead, I’m stuck in this perpetual cycle of hope and disappointment every time the phone rings. She asked for this to be our anniversary, and I’ve never been happier I pushed for a different day. She doesn’t need to see me like this—sad, broken, and depressed.

And the fact that she feels bad about it, blames herself, breaks my heart.

The worst part about it is, she’s right. If she had stayed, there wouldn’t have been much of a change and we would still be together. She’s willing to give up her happiness just to fight this impossible war. Is it a war worth fighting? Yes. But is it misguided? Also yes.

Worst of all, everyone else is moving forward. Izzy and Lance are settled, talking about serious life plans. Waverly and Lukasare thriving with their house cows. Even Uri is mending things with his father. And me? Stagnant.

Ian speaks English most of the time now—only switching to Russian when he’s upset. And he has friends. He’s growing like he’s supposed to.

And the one time I tested the waters to return to the stronger side of myself, the one who’d been locked away, Katya burst into tears. Maybe it’s better that I stay the same and freeze in space.

My muscles feel too heavy to move, depression’s weighted blanket pinning me to the bed. Screw you, depression. But damn it, the bed is warm, and the air outside is cold. Nope. Staying here.

There’s a knock on the door. “Bye, Uncle Dimitri! Lance is here.”

Uncle Dimitri. Fuck. I need to tell him the truth. But when? How? There’s no manual for this. Hey kid, by the way, I know you thought I was your uncle, but surprise! I’m your dad. Cool? And that guy you thought was your father? Nope, just a placeholder. Now let’s go get waffles.

Every day I don’t tell him, the guilt builds. What if he’s disappointed? What if I’m not enough? What can I even offer him? A kidney if he needs it? Back in Russia, he had more toys, space, a full-time nanny, and a mother. And here? He has me.

I’m not much of a prize.

The smoke detector’s chirping pulls me from my spiral. It beeps five or six times before I decide the cold air is worth enduring if it means silencing that screech.