Page 27 of Deadly Knight

I don’t reply, not with the words she’ll want to hear, anyway.

“And then there’s us.” She sighs. “If my first instinct is to run away, what kind of Bratva wife would I be to you in the future? You need someone strong. Someone your father will prefer for you. That isn’t me. For years, I’ve convinced myself it’d be fine, but this has shown our two worlds should never have collided, and what happens when they do.”

My fingers press harder into the doorframe, disbelieving the conversation has comehere, keeping me silent until my thoughts formulate something semi-comprehensive. “Katya, you have no fuckin’ idea how strong you are. What you survived—you’re a survivor.”Good use of words,pridurok.“You’re perfect as you are, memories and all.We”—I emphasize the word since she insists on dragging me into this time and time again—“survived. Why would I want another woman when you’re the one I went through that with? Fuck Papa.You’rewho matters.”

She flinches, and I realize my words didn’t have the intended effect. “Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe we’re destined to be linked through memories, and guilt will always keep us together.”

My fucking god, I’m going to kill them. Papa. All of them.Theydid this.Theytook her from me.

I reach for her again, only to drop my hand just shy of touching her. “He’ll pay. They all will. I will hunt every single one down and make them sorry for what they did. When they’re all decaying in a landfill, then I’ll take out my father. That’s a fucking promise I’ll live and die by if I must.”

Her lips quirk on one side, and the sight has my crushed heart soaring off the ground. “Don’t die for revenge. Live, Dimitri.”

That’s something I won’t be able to agree to. I’ll happily die for her if it means she’ll have a better life.

“Only if you live for me,moya dusha.” It’s the closest I can come to agreeing to her terms.

For a beat, she’s silent, her throat moving with her swallow as she stares at something behind my shoulder. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Always.”

I’ll always save her. She might be choosing to leave me, but I’m not leaving her. Nothing in this world will take me away from her—not completely. It’s what I decide at that moment, no matter her choices.

“Tell me one thing,” I demand.

Wariness flits over her expression. She licks her bottom lip before asking, “What’s that?”

“Where in Canada will you be?”Where can I find you?

Katya smiles sadly, her shoulders lowering with a sigh. “Please understand why I’m not telling you.”

I do, but don’t want to.

“Why there?”

“For a long time, I’ve wanted to live in Canada. When it came time to apply for schools, I chose local universities instead, to remain close.”

Because of you, are her unspoken words.

“When are you leaving?”How much longer do I have with you?

“When the house sells. Between now and August, I guess. Before classes begin. I got a last-minute acceptance into one of the schools there. I owe it to myself to try and move past recent events. To be the person I was meant to be. To determine if my old dreams are what I may still want.”

I’m asshole enough that the idea of paying off any potential buyer, just to prevent a sale, is so damn tempting. It’d hurt her in the long run, though, so I won’t.

It’s the first week of July. The remainder of June disappeared between the hospital and the days Katya holed up inside. Which means two full months until she’s gone, if not sooner.

I reclaim my grip on the doorframe, holding tight enough I’m satisfied I won’t reach for her again. Wearied eyes flick there when the wood lets out a cracking noise.

I’m close enough now, I only have to duck to kiss her. She could easily back away. We both know this, but she remains motionless. I’m stupid enough to think her slight sway is her leaning towards me. Stupid, or hopeful.

“Will I see you again?”Is this it? Am I being cut off like an addict pleading for his next fix?It’s cruel, but Katya’s in self-preservation mode.

Water lines her eyes, only this time, a stream drips down her cheeks, and I have my answer. For Katya, ending it now is easier than prolonging the pain. Safer to stay away from me, which is what she should have done from the beginning.

I force myself straight, force my grip to release the wood, and back up, nodding as I go. Telling her silently, I accept her choice. When I reach the top step of her porch, I do the impossible.

I turn my back on her and walk away.