Page 109 of Hunt Me

I check my watch. It’s six-thirty.

“Come back to bed.”

“We need to leave in an hour.” Her voice is flat. “I’ve been running scenarios.”

I sit up to study her rigid posture. “And?”

“None of them end well.”

“Iris—”

“They have everything, Alexi.” She finally turns, and her eyes are hollow. “Morrison’s dead, but Sentinel isn’t. Project Nightshade isn’t.”

I swing my legs out of bed and pull on my jeans. “We have leverage. The files. The journalists?—”

“Leverage only works if they care about exposure.” She crosses her arms. “These people disappeared my parents and almost killed me in the process. They made it look like an accident and buried the evidence for three years.”

“We’re not your parents.”

“You’re right.” Her laugh is bitter. “We’re worse. We killed a federal agent, broke into a government facility, and stole classified intel.”

“Morrison was dirty.”

“Doesn’t matter.” She turns back to the window. “They’ll spin it however they want, and make us out to be the criminals, and let’s face it—you are your brothers are criminals.”

I close the distance between us and place my hand on her good shoulder.

She flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“Look at me.”

She doesn’t move.

“Detka.” I apply gentle pressure. “Look at me.”

Slowly, she turns, and the fear in her eyes guts me.

“We’re not going to survive this.” Her voice cracks. “You know that. Even if the meeting goes perfectly, and they agree to back off. Sentinel doesn’t forgive. We will always be looking over our shoulder.”

“The difference,” I say, “is that your parents workedforthe government. They were employees. Assets. Expendable.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but I’m quicker.

“We’re not.”

“You think being criminals makes you safer?”

“I think being bratva makes us untouchable.” Her eyes arrest mine. “Your parents had no backup. No army. No network that spans three continents and controls a portion of the dark web.”

“Alexi—”

“Morrison came after you and your parents alone. You were isolated and vulnerable.” I release her shoulder and cup her face. “You think Sentinel can just disappear four Ivanov brothers? Our wives? Our entire operation?”

“They disappeared my parents.”

“Your parents didn’t have two hundred armed men at their disposal. They didn’t have enough dirty secrets on half the intelligence community to bury it twice over.” I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “They didn’t have me.”

“You really believe that?” she asks.