Page 107 of Unbroken

And something inside meclicks.

It was never supposed to be her.

But italwayshad to be her. She’s mine, his—we’re family, and we love each other. She loves him unconditionally, the way he deserves.

The door bursts open behind us—Matvei’s voice is shouting instructions to burn the fucking Irish warehouse in the harbor to the ground. Send a message. Strike back.

I lift Luka into my arms. He’s still oblivious to how real this got.

We’re heading back to the Kopolovs’.

Ruthie follows, gun still in hand, her eyes still scanning.

We walk out as one.

And the Irish are going tobleed.

Chapter 23

RUTHIE

We’rein the evacuation van, and Luka’s asleep against my chest. He’s still convinced it was a game, just like we told him. Miraculously shielded from the terror and danger.

For now.Jesus.For now.

Vadka is beside me, his fingers brushing mine on the seat.

Neither of us speaks. We both know how close of a call that was, how dangerous that could’ve been.

Vadka leans in just enough that our shoulders touch.

We park the van, and it’s like we’re moving in slow motion. Everything happens quickly, but not fast enough.

Through the front door. We don’t have to ask Luka to be quiet because he knows intuitively. At first, he laces his fingers with mine, but his steps are slow, and timing is urgent. Wordlessly, Vadka swings him into his arms. My heart turns over in my chest.

I don’t even realize I’ve been holding my breath until the front door locks behind us.

Click.

It’s the sound of something final, like a trigger pulled.

Vadka moves us through the house to the room we’ve been staying in, with his usual quiet precision—checking windows, arming the system, making sure no one followed. His black shirt is smudged with soot and something darker. Luka’s still in his arms, thumb in his mouth, his tiny fist curled in the fabric of Vadka’s collar.

He hasn’t let go since the ambush.

And neither have I.

We’re safe. For now.

I sit on the edge of the couch and press my fingers to my temples. The whole world tilts slightly to the left.

I hear the sound of Vadka’s boots. Then silence. Then?—

A soft rustle.

He’s wrapped Luka in a blanket and laid him down in his room next to ours. The boy doesn’t stir. Just breathes deeply and slowly, like he’s finally allowed to.

Vadka crouches in front of me, his knees wide and hands braced on either side of mine.