Page 12 of Scarlet Sins (Yegorov Bratva #2)

With a jolt of shock, I realize I’d forgotten they’d met at the penthouse that time.

“I hope you don’t mind I’m here.” Alina bites her lip, tucking her feet under the bench.

Kara scooches me over. “Nonsense. We cool ladies need to stick together. One day, I wouldn’t mind a Sasha. One day, in the vast and distant future.” Then she stops and looks at Alina. “There’s always time. I guess I have to find a man.”

I elbow her and she gasps.

“I’m sorry, did you and Max…?”

“Want kids? Yeah. And now I wonder if I’ll ever have them. Max was my soulmate. The children I pictured were his. My life I pictured, the life I knew was going to be mine, was with him. And now…” She swallows. “Now I don’t think there’ll ever be someone else.”

Sasha goes down the small slide, looking proud like he just went hang gliding.

And I can see Alina and Max’s kid under an older Sasha’s wing, and it breaks my heart.

Kara never shies away from putting her foot in it, not that she really did, but she just pats Alina’s knee. “Maybe there’s another soulmate. Or someone good. Down the line.”

“Getting over Max is going to take time. I miss him, so much so I can’t imagine how you’re doing it.”

“Like a queen,” says Kara. “You’re strong. But we’re here for you. I don’t really know you, but girl, I’m here. And Erin’s right, it’s going to take time, but one day you’ll have the strength to move on. Eventually.”

I lean around Kara and squeeze Alina’s hand. “You have a big heart, and Max was lucky. He’s in there; no one or nothing can take that. Even someone new.”

“And we’re talking way down the line.” But then Kara puts her hand on top of mine and squeezes both mine and Alina’s. “Or maybe it’s around the corner. You’ll be ready when you’re ready. There’s no right or wrong.”

“I couldn’t. I can’t replace them.”

“Then,” I say, “the time is wrong.”

Kara lets Alina talk and we listen, and I just wish I could do more to help my new friend.

The day’s a whirlwind. We end up going to Kara’s and letting Sasha nap. There are always Sasha clothes here, so I bathe and change him before his nap, and then Kara makes drinks ,but I give my head a small shake when she offers me one.

Her look’s pure questions unasked, ones I’ll be facing. But all she does is make me a virgin margarita.

And when it’s nearing early evening, we pick a restaurant near Kara and head there.

At this hour, it’s fairly empty and they’re happy to accommodate Sasha and even offer to rustle up a kid menu, but I just order him macaroni with ragu, something he likes, as I know from experience he doesn’t like super fancy mac and cheese.

Kara and Alina share a bottle of wine, but I beg off just saying I’m not in the mood. We’re kept entertained by Sasha, and then Kara takes over when he gets her phone so he can watch cartoons, and she makes us laugh with the last string of disastrous dates she went on.

Finally, she kicks me under the table.

“Ow.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not dating anyone.”

Kara rolls her eyes. “She thinks she’s a comedian,” she says to Alina. “Did you sort things with her brother? ”

“Demyan’s her brother,” I say pointedly, smiling at Alina to show I don’t mean anything by it.

But Alina just takes a sip of her wine. “I understand Demyan and why he’s doing this. But I think he’s an idiot for getting into this situation in the first place. He’ll find a way out of it. Ugh, that Stefina.”

I look at them both and take a breath. “Logically, I can see he did something to save me, but emotionally, it’s like betrayal. Maybe I deserve it, keeping Sasha from him.”

“Nonsense,” says Kara, filling her glass and topping Alina’s.

“You did what you thought you had to do. And let’s face it, if your brother wasn’t a PI, you wouldn’t have known how to find him.

He’s a powerful Russian dude with a lot of machismo.

And if you ask me, I bet he knows he should have left his name. ”

Alina doesn’t say a thing, and I try to stop Kara with my expression, but she’s not paying attention.

“Then again, he didn’t know you’d get knocked up, either. So… no one’s fault but fates.”

“That doesn’t help me not feel like a third wheel. You should see her. She’s gorgeous. Like seriously beautiful.”

“And you’re what? Dirt?”

“I’m not that.”

“Thank goodness,” says Alina. She looks at us both.

“I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’ve seen some of the women he’s slept with.

None of them are like you. They’re accessories and glamorous, yes, because that’s easier than what’s real.

But the one thing he hasn’t ever gone for is a vacuous, self-involved person like Stefina.

And I’ve seen her around. She doesn’t go for complicated like Demyan.

This is her father and she’s going along with it.

She wants a big, splashy wedding, so she’ll go for that, too.

But this isn’t about Demyan for her. And she’s not his type. You are. ”

“See?” Kara crosses her arms and Sasha giggles at something on the phone.

I look at my plate. I know I haven’t eaten as much as I should, but I’m not hungry. I push it away.

“I don’t feel like his type. I don’t feel as beautiful and self-absorbed as she is; she’s bombshell material. I’m not. I’m going?—”

I stop.

“I’m going mad, I think. I’m jealous. I’m upset, I love him, I don’t like him, I want him to do the irrational and kick her to the curb.”

What I was going to say was I’m going to be huge soon enough, but I can’t mention the baby, and as fabulous as Alina is, she’s still Demyan’s sister at the end of the day. I’m not ready for him to know yet.

And there’s one more thing.

Alina put a good face on it, but I heard her pain, that ragged, raw edge in her voice, about the loss of babies she won’t have with Max. And me being pregnant? I don’t know how she’ll react. I don’t want to tailspin her into more grief.

“Demyan has to be careful with this. Very careful,” Alina says. “But I think I’d be angry, too.”

Demyan, demon of the hour, isn’t home when we get back. I don’t know where he is. I can smell the expensive perfume of that damn Stefina lingering in the living room and I go upstairs and tuck Sasha into bed.

Whatever was said with us at the restaurant doesn’t matter. All I can think of is him with Stefina. Him with another beauty.

I get ready for bed and slide in, willing sleep. Willing myself not to listen for him to come home .

But I’m awake when he stumbles in, drunk, and he strips and climbs in next to me. The heat of him warming me, his lips on my skin making me ache, making me wet, and when he touches my thighs…

“Don’t, Demyan,” I whisper.

He turns to me and kisses me. He tastes like darkness and vodka. And regrets.

“It’s ‘yes, Demyan,’ Erin.”

“No.”

He stops. “We make love, we can heal.”

“Sex isn’t a cure, Demyan,” I say, my voice strangled. “I’m not ready. I need to process things, a number of things, and you need to respect that.”

I get out of bed.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

I’m sure he thinks I got up because I don’t trust him.

But that’s not why.

I don’t trust myself not to give in to him.

“I’m going to sleep with Sasha.”

“Like fuck you are. We’re together. You sleep in this bed. I won’t try to fuck you, but get into bed.”

But I turn and walk out, going into Sasha’s room and sliding in next to my little boy.

He won’t dare come in and start anything; he won’t risk waking his son. No matter how pissed off he is.