Page 13 of Toxic Salvation (Krayev Bratva #2)

VESPER

“Where are we going?” Mom stops dead in the hospital corridor, gripping her discharge papers.

I shoot Waylen a look. “Didn’t Waylen explain everything?”

“He said I’d be discharged today and that we’d be going home. I assumed that meant my home.”

“Well, technically, we will all be living together again.” I force brightness into my tone, trying to ignore how Mom’s hospital gown hangs off her shrinking frame. She’s disappearing before my eyes, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

“Sweetheart, I don’t need ‘round-the-clock supervision.”

“You’re still undergoing intensive treatment. The medications alone will wreak havoc on your system?—”

“I’m perfectly aware of that, honey. You may be a doctor, but I’ve been living with this cancer for over a year.”

I bite down hard on my tongue to keep from screaming the obvious: And you hid it from us for most of that time. Now isn’t the moment for that fight.

“Cancer isn’t something you fight alone. Like raising children, it takes a village.”

Waylen clears his throat and elbows me in the ribs. “Speaking of children…”

“Right.” My stomach drops. “Why didn’t you tell her where we’re actually going?”

“This is your mess,” he hisses. “Own it.”

“Jackass,” I hiss back.

“Can you two stop your bickering?” Mom sighs. “Cancer doesn’t affect my hearing.”

I take a deep breath and dive in. “Mom, I’m moving in with Kovan. And you’re moving in with me.”

Mom’s eyebrows knit together as she studies both our faces. “You and Kovan are back together?”

I turn to Waylen for backup, but he just shrugs. Jackass might’ve been too kind. Coward is better.

“It’s complicated. The thing is…” I’m actually sweating. In places I didn’t know I could sweat. “Can you help me out here?” I jab Waylen with my elbow the same way he jabbed me.

He lets out an exaggerated grunt. “Vesper’s pregnant.”

“What?!” Mom’s gasp echoes down the hallway.

I spin around to glare at him. “Seriously? That’s how you wanted to handle this?”

“You asked for help,” he replies, unrepentant. “This is me helping.”

I turn back to face Mom’s shocked expression. “I know this is unexpected. It was for me, too. This wasn’t exactly planned, but?—”

“Oh, honey…!” Tears fill Mom’s eyes, but she’s smiling wider than I’ve seen her smile in months. Maybe ever. “Are you really?”

“Yeah, Mom.” I rest my hand on my stomach. “You’re going to be a grandmother.”

She grabs my hand and pulls me toward her with more strength than she’s shown in weeks. The joy transforms her entire face, erasing years of illness and grief. “This is the best news I could have asked for. I’m going to be a grandmother. I’m going to watch my baby girl build a family.”

Waylen makes a face, and I elbow him again. Thankfully, Mom’s too busy dabbing at her eyes to notice.

“I’ve been so worried about you this past month,” she continues. “It was obvious you were struggling with something. But I’m so glad you decided to work things out with Kovan.”

“Mom, I’m not sure we should assume?—”

“Family is everything,” she interrupts. “I know you’re married to your career just like your father was, but you need someone to come home to. Even when things were difficult at the hospital, your father always had me. And now, you’ll have Kovan.”

She’s gripping my hand tightly, and I can feel the hope radiating from her. So I take the wimpy way out and stay silent, letting her believe whatever makes her happy.

“Are you ready to see Kovan’s place?” I ask. “There’s a beautiful room waiting for you.”

She beams. “I’m ready. Let’s get me out of here.”

Waylen falls in beside me as we resume our trek toward the discharge desk. “That went smoothly.” His sarcasm is thick despite the fake smile he’s wearing. “Why don’t you start planning the wedding? That’ll really sell the happy family picture you’re painting.”

“I’m not painting anything,” I snap. “She drew those conclusions herself.”

“And you didn’t correct her.”

“She has cancer!”

“Coward.”

I smack his arm. “Until you’re in my position, you don’t get to judge.”

He snorts. “I would never be in your position because I would never sleep with Kovan. He’s not my type.”

“He’s everyone’s type,” I mumble.

Waylen points at my face. “What was that?”

I quickly rearrange my expression. “What was what?”

“That look. Like you want to devour him. Do you still want him?”

“No!”

“Vesper.”

I throw up my hands in defeat. “I don’t want to want him, okay? My life would be infinitely easier if I didn’t. But here we are.”

Waylen shakes his head. “So what’s your plan? Move in with the gangster, have his baby, and co-parent while he screws other women?”

Ice runs through my veins. I hadn’t even considered that possibility. I haven’t thought past the immediate crisis.

“I… haven’t worked out all the details yet.”

“Clearly.”

“What do you want me to do, Waylen? I need distance from Kovan, but he is this baby’s father. I can’t change that. And our living situation isn’t permanent. Just until the Keres situation gets resolved?—”

“The what situation?”

My face burns. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“What the hell is Keres? That name sounds familiar.” He frowns. “I think I’ve heard it before, back when… Shit, I can’t remember where. Was it some project Dad worked on?”

Should I tell him? Waylen was never as close to Dad as I was. Maybe the truth won’t devastate him the way it did me. Maybe he could handle it.

But, no—telling him would shatter his reality. Right now, he still gets to believe our father was a good man. That’s a gift I can give him: a little more time in the light before the darkness takes hold.

“All you need to know is that they’re dangerous people,” I say carefully. “Kovan is working to eliminate the threat. Once that’s handled, I’ll be safe, the baby will be safe, and I can build a life separate from Kovan Krayev.”

Waylen looks skeptical but doesn’t push. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Ves.”

I link my arm through his as we step up to the discharge desk. “What if I don’t?”

He bumps my shoulder. “Then I’ll be here to help you figure it out.”

“I was counting on that.”

It’s not enough that the man has muscles that could grace magazine covers and shoulders broad enough to carry the world.

He has to cook , too.

At least he’s wearing a shirt this time. But the risotto he’s stirring smells so incredible it might as well be an aphrodisiac.

“Burnt butter risotto,” he explains when he catches me peering into the pot.

“Mom’s favorite.”

“I know. That’s why I’m making it.”

My jaw drops. “You remember that my mother loves burnt butter risotto?”

“She mentioned it the day you threw Luka’s impromptu birthday party.”

“That was, like, six weeks ago.”

“I pay attention to details.”

He adds stock to the risotto and stirs with ease while I try not to stare at the way his forearms flex. I tell myself my reaction is purely about the food.

“Her room is gorgeous,” I say, eager for any distraction. “And the peonies… those are her absolute favorites.”

“I wanted her to feel welcome here.”

“What was in that note you left on her nightstand?”

He flashes me a grin. “She didn’t share?”

I try not to look annoyed. “No.”

“Then neither will I.”

“What? Come on, Kovan!”

His grin widens. “If Annabelle wants to keep our correspondence private, I respect that.” He extends the wooden spoon toward me. “Taste this. Careful—it’s hot.”

First, he’s cooking for my mother. Now, he’s feeding me? My ovaries might actually explode.

I turn my face away. “I’m terrible at tasting things. Ask Waylen instead.”

He rolls his eyes and tastes it himself. “Needs more salt.” He seasons the risotto with the confidence of a professional chef. “Where’s Luka?”

“In Mom’s room. They’re playing Scrabble.”

“She needs rest. Did you tell her to ask him to leave when she gets tired?”

“I tried. She kicked me out the second I suggested it. I think she’s enjoying being a grandmother.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize what I’ve said. “Not that she’s actually his grandmother or anything. I didn’t mean to imply?—”

“Relax, Vesper. I understand what you meant.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t want you to think I was presuming anything.” Stop talking. Stop talking. “I mean, I didn’t even want you to know about the baby in the first place.”

He drops the spoon with a clatter.

Yep, I should have stopped talking.

“Yes,” he says coldly. “You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

On any other day, I’d be satisfied to have rattled him. But today, he’s gone out of his way to welcome my mother into his home. He’s given her the most beautiful guest room, hired a private nurse for her care, handed me a credit card for any medical expenses she might need.

For someone who supposedly wanted nothing to do with me, he’s certainly working hard to weave me into his life.

No wonder the butterflies in my stomach have staged a full resurrection.

No wonder every time I look at him, I feel that same desperate need that got me pregnant in the first place.

Waylen’s right to worry about me. I’m pathetically weak.

But thanks to my brother’s warning, I keep picturing some gorgeous blonde that Kovan will inevitably bring home to meet our son. She’ll be everything I’m not: uncomplicated, unburdened by moral conflict, someone who can love him without reservation.

But I’m married to my career, right? I shouldn’t care. I don’t care.

“Everything okay?” Kovan asks. “You look troubled.”

“I’m fine.”

He turns off the burner and moves closer. Too close. “I know you’re worried about your mother, but I’m going to do everything possible to help her.”

For a moment, I consider telling him what’s really bothering me. Not my mother’s cancer, but my own pathetic lack of willpower. My own crumbling resolve. All these feelings for him that I can’t seem to bury no matter how hard I try.

“I’m going to make sure she gets the best care available. She’s not going to die on my watch.” There’s something personal in his tone, like my mother’s survival matters to him beyond mere obligation.

“Why are you doing all this?” I ask quietly.

“Because you’re carrying my child, and Annabelle is the only grandparent our baby will ever have.”

“ If my mother survives treatment.”

“She will. She’s strong—just like you.”

“I used to think I took after my father. Now, I wonder if I’m more my mother’s daughter.” I cover my face with my hands. “The irony is, I don’t want to be like either of them.”

“You’re not.” When I look up, he’s standing dangerously close. My chest tightens. “You’re your own person. Don’t diminish yourself by comparing yourself to anyone else.”

I should walk away.

Right now.

Instead, I find myself staring into those impossible green eyes, moving closer, trying to catch another hint of the scent that makes breathing easier and harder at the same time.

“Sometimes, I can’t tell if you love me or hate me.”

The moment Kovan’s face falls, I know I’ve made the mistake of speaking my thoughts aloud. He looks tortured for a heartbeat, his brow furrowing with what might be pain.

Then it clears. He becomes all business, perfectly composed. “What I feel for you doesn’t matter, Vesper. I’m wrong for you. You’re better off without me. Safer, too.”

I want to argue, but I’m too busy imagining that future blonde with her perfect life and easy smile, her manicured hands wrapped possessively around Kovan’s arm.

The possibility makes me want to rip out my heart and replace it with something stronger. Something that can’t be broken.

So all I say is, “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”