Page 36 of Unbroken
“Change of plans, Ruthie.”
Chapter 6
VADKA
The first thingI do is call Zoya. “How’s Luka?”
“He’s fine,” she says, her voice laced with steel. The Kopolov women don’t fuck around—and she’s seen more than one tense situation.
Rafail raised them right. Zoya was just a child when Rafail became the legal guardian of her and her siblings. He taught them to be strong, loyal, and fastidious. And to this day, I’m not sure there’s anything the Kopolov family can’t handle. They know how to use weapons, how to navigate tense situations. They’ve seen people they love hurt and killed. And when shit hits the fan, the Kopolov family stands strong.
“Luka’s packing a bag right now,” she says more quietly. “I told him we’re going on a trip and that he’ll see his Auntie Ruthie and his Papa soon.”
“Thank you.”
I used to like to think that even the Irish weren’t so cold they’d go after a child. But I don’t have the luxury of thinking that anymore. Not after they killed my innocent wife.
A little voice in the back of my mind reminds me that her death was an accident—that they didn’t come straight for her—she just got caught in the line of fire when the Irish were on a rampage. But it doesn’t soothe anything.
The Irish are my mortal enemies. The most dangerous fuckers I’ve ever met, and I’ve been swimming with sharks since I was a kid.
“We’re twenty minutes out,” I say. “We’re on my bike now. Ruthie’s car broke down, and I can’t tell if it was mechanical or if it was intentional.”
“Let me check with Matvei, see if we have surveillance outside the area you’re in. You were with her mother, yes?”
Brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?
“Yes. Good idea. Thank you.”
“It’s filling up here fast. Everyone was at the house when Rafail hit the alarm. I’ll make sure I save space for you.”
She has to. She has my son. “Thank you.”
“Are you two hungry?”
“Yeah.”
She’s so cute. Literal lives are on the line, and Zoya’s worried about feeding us. Always the little mother hen—even when she was little. I remember the first time she saw a bruise on my shoulder, back when my father haddecked me, the fucking asshole. I remember when she started realizing the bruises on my arms and cheeks weren’t from falling or walking into walls, like I told everyone. That I wasn’t just clumsy.
She reached out and touched a black eye with a small, trembling hand. “No one’s perfect, Vadka. But no one deserves this either.”
I slept on the Kopolov couch that night. And I never went home.
“I’ll have some food prepared for you,” she says. “Luka is tired. We had a busy day. He might be asleep when you get back.”
“I know. I just want what’s best for the little guy. Thank you.”
I decide to tell Ruthie what’s going on, so I fill her in on the comm and tell her she should come with me.
I realize then that I like the feel of her behind me. It makes me a little sad, honestly. I could never convince Mariah to sit on the back of the bike with me.
Ruthie reminds me of her sister—but only the best parts of Mariah. She probably fears that when I look at her, I see a smaller, younger version of her sister. Hell,Ifeared that.
But I don’t.
I seeRuthie.Brilliant, headstrong, somewhat chaotic Ruthie. The most loyal woman I know. The strongest.
The one who clutches her vulnerability with a death grip, unlike anyone else I’ve ever seen.
Table of Contents
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