Page 119

His arm settles around me. His fingers brush mine, grounding me. My head finds his shoulder—when did that become the place I want to be?

“Did we wake you?” he asks softly, his voice quieter now, just for me.

There’s something about this dangerous man going soft for me that melts me into a puddle.

“You okay?” he asks softly, a murmur in my ear. Rodion’s brows lift, and he looks at his friend in mild surprise.

I shake my head. "Yeah. I was starving. I had a weird dream and… I don’t know. I couldn’t sleep."

Matvei’s gaze sharpens.

"Was it another nightmare?"

I shake my head again, but it’s a lie. I don’t want to divulge anything personal in front of Rodion. Matvei might trust him, but I don’t.

"I don’t want to talk about it right now,” I whisper. Rodion politely scrolls on his phone as if giving us some privacy.

"You need something to eat?"

"No, I'm fine. You left me with enough snacks to fatten me up like a pig being led to slaughter."

Rodion groans. "Of course he did. Asshole needs to feed his junk food addiction. Always gets the munchies with those goddamn joints. That's how Rafail caught on we were smoking in high school.” He shakes his head as if still pissed at Matvei. “He’d fucking eat pickledeverything.Dill pickles, tomatoes, straight out of the jar like a psycho. Platters of dumplings. Sleeves of crackers. Piles of chocolate bars or anything battered and fried.”

"I had help," Matvei says, his eyes twinkling.

“I bet.”

“I can still see Rafail staring at the empty packages in the kitchen and shaking us down for our stash.” Rodion shakes his head. “Hey, so I came here to tell Matvei the good news,” Rodion says with a smile. He pulls out a pink stick. I blink. "Ember’s pregnant.”

I don't expect it. The stab hits my chest. The second I look at him—when I look at Matvei's face—the pain is there, hidden behind a fake smile.

"Congratulations," I say, but my congrats sound watery even to my own ears.

Matvei's thumb brushes over the top of my hand—soothing, gentle. A shared moment of grief I wasn’t prepared for, for entirely different reasons.

His wife peed on a stick, and he jumped in his car and drove here to tell Matvei in person.

That's so adorable. And it makes me so fucking sad.

Rodion stands. "It's late. I'm sorry to keep you guys up. Just wanted to tell you the good news. Tomorrow, we ride, brother," he says with a smile.

Brother.I bet that hits him harder than Rodion thinks. He has two other brothers at home. Matvei buried his.

And what are they doing tomorrow?

Matvei gets up to see Rodion out. I barely notice. I'm so caught up in my thoughts, trying to decide what to do, what to say.

Matvei comes back to me. He has that look that I've come to crave.

Possessive. Haunted.

"Come here," he says, crooking a finger at me.

He sits in the overstuffed chair and spreads his knees wide. Jesus, he's so fucking sexy. There's a glint in his eyes. It smells like trouble, and it makes my heart sing.

This room is all dark wood, gleaming hardwood, laced with the smell of old books. They're stacked on tables and shelves. The furniture is minimalist, leather. It's like an old-fashioned study, and it surprises me that this is Matvei’s.

Matvei sprawls on the leather chair, his knees apart, resting on his forearms. He has on a T-shirt that he wears to bed, the fabric stretched thin across the large expanse of his chest.