Page 28 of Sergei

Just a simple hug. It was something people did all the time.

But not me.

Not like this.

She rested her head on my chest and just held onto me, and I, like a damn idiot, suddenly forgot how to breathe. I just stood there frozen, taking in the feeling of her body next to mine.

“Thank you,” she whispered so softly I almost didn’t hear. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Her words cut deeper than any blade ever could. Without me. As if I actually mattered. My hands hovered uselessly in the air before I let them fall against her waist. I didn’t pull her close, but I didn’t push her away, either. The feel of her against me, so warm and fragile, hit me harder than any fight I’d ever been in.

She didn’t see it or feel it, but my pulse was pounding. I wanted her gone, and I wanted her even closer in the same damn breath. I couldn’t do it.

It was too much.

So, I stepped back. I was rougher than I’d meant, and confusion flickered across her face when I told her, “Don’t thank me yet. This is far from over.”

And with that, I turned and walked out of the room, leaving her standing there alone. As I walked to the kitchen, I could still feel the warmth of her touch clinging to me, and it shook me how much I wanted to savor the feeling.

I made myself another pot of coffee as I tried to shake off the feel of Alina’s arms around me. Gratitude wasn’t something I’d ever known how to handle. I’d spent most of my life earning fear,not thanks. But there was a first time for everything. I guess this was mine.

I’d just taken my first sip of coffee when my phone chimed with a text message. Thinking it might be Shep or Conrad, I quickly grabbed it from my pocket and glanced down at the screen. Disappointment slammed me in the chest when I saw that the message was from Viktor.

Viktor:

You coming in today or what?

Me:

No.

Viktor:

Why?

What’s going on?

Me:

I have some things I need to take care of.

Viktor:

What kind of things?

Me:

What do you want, Viktor?

Viktor:

I don’t want a fucking thing. Christ.

Excuse me for caring if you were alive or dead.

Me:

I’ll be there when I get there.