Page 8 of Toxic Salvation (Krayev Bratva #2)
KOVAN
The guest room feels like an overheated tomb. Vesper sits curled on the window seat, arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold the pieces together. The moonlight catches the tears she won’t let fall, turning them into silver threads at the corners of her eyes.
I’ve seen men break under torture. I’ve watched grown killers weep when they realized death was coming for them. But this—watching Vesper crumble as everything she believed about her father disintegrates—this is worse than all of it.
Because I’m the one who delivered the killing blow.
“It’s warm in here,” I say. “But you’re shaking.”
She doesn’t respond. Just stares out at the dark garden.
I retreat into the hallway and return with an armload of blankets.
At the bottom of the pile, I’ve hidden one of my cashmere sweaters—the gray one she used to steal when she thought I wasn’t looking.
I can’t decide if I’m doing it for myself —to keep believing that I can comfort her—or for her to find if she decides she needs comforting.
“Here.” I dump everything on the seat beside her. “It gets cold at night.”
She doesn’t even glance at the blankets. “Am I your prisoner now?”
“No.” I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her. “You can work, see friends, visit your family. But you’ll have security with you.”
“Ah. Armed guards. How romantic.”
I stand in place. “Do you have any other questions?” I ask, which sounds even fucking dumber out loud than it did in my head.
“I’ll have questions tomorrow,” she mutters. “About my father, the Keres, all of it. But right now…” She sags against the window frame. “I just want to sit.”
The defeat in her voice guts me. I should leave. Give her space to process. But my feet won’t move.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “About your mother, I mean.”
She turns inward. Her hair falls forward, hiding her face from view. “Have you been spying on me?”
“Waylen told me.”
“Of course he did.”
“How is she doing?”
“She has cancer, Kovan. How do you think she’s doing?” Then she closes her eyes. “Sorry. That was— I’m not handling any of this well.”
“Don’t apologize.” I take a half-step closer, then force myself to stop. “I like it better when you fight back. At least then I know you’re still in there.”
She looks at me then, and I see the exhaustion carved into every line of her face. “I have to fight for her, because she won’t fight for herself. She’s giving up, just like…”
“Just like what?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
I pause. Wait. But she doesn’t fill in the empty space. “If you need anything for her,” I say carefully, “anything at all, just ask. If you want her closer, she can move in here.”
For a brief instant, something soft flickers across her face. Then she grimaces and it disappears. “Thank you.” She stands abruptly, putting distance between us. “I want to go to bed now.”
“Vesper—”
“If there’s anything I need, I’ll let you know.”
I can only nod. But as I turn to go, she calls my name.
“Since I’m living here now,” she says, “am I allowed to see Luka? Or are you going to keep him away from me, too?”
My scowl twists up. “Apparently, no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep you two apart.”
“Why would you want to? What did I do that was so terrible?”
“You didn’t do anything terrible.”
“Then why?—”
“Because I did,” I explain, still looking at the ground.
“I lied to you. I kept things from you. I let you walk into a situation where you could have been killed.” I rub the back of my neck, suddenly exhausted.
“You want the truth, Vesper? I was scared. Scared of losing you, of what you’d think if you knew everything.
So I told myself I was keeping you safe when really I was just being a coward. ”
She stares at me, and for a second, I think she might forgive me. Then she shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she says quietly. “What’s done is done.”
“Look, Vesper?—”
“Honestly, I can’t do this right now, Kovan. I can’t hash out our fucked-up relationship while my mother is dying and I’m pregnant and my entire understanding of my father just got blown to pieces.” The breath goes whispering out of her. “I just… I can’t.”
Silence.
More silence.
More awful, empty silence.
“If you want to see Luka,” I say, “go see him. He’s been miserable without you.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Have you been miserable without me?”
I look up, a lie ready on my lips. But I’m so fucking sick of lying. “Every day,” I admit. “Every damn day.”
She closes her eyes, and a single tear slides down her cheek. “That doesn’t make any of this easier.”
“I know.”
“I’m tired, Kovan. I’m so tired I can barely think straight.”
“Is it the baby?”
“It’s everything,” she whispers. “The baby, my mother, work, you, my father…” She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “I feel like I’m drowning.”
“Does your mother know? About the baby?”
“No one knows except Waylen.”
“Great. He probably wants to kill me even more now.”
“He’s my brother. He’s supposed to be on my side. He thinks you’re…” She takes a long time to think about how that sentence should end. “Well, it doesn’t matter what he thinks. I know what you are. You’re not a bad man.”
I can only scoff. “Aren’t I?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You’re not. I just…
Look, I know things aren’t always black and white.
I understand better now the lengths a person will go to protect the people they love.
When family is involved, you can’t always think clearly.
I’m just saying… it’s not always black and white, okay?
That’s all. I know that’s not that smart or poetic, but it’s true. ”
We’re both quiet for a while, breathing in sync.
“Yeah,” I say at last. “It gets complicated.” I rub the back of my neck one more time, then slip out the door, torn in two directions by all the things I should say and all the things I want to say instead.
I’m halfway down the hall when I hear her voice one more time, so quiet I almost miss it.
“Goodnight, Kovan.”
I stop walking. I touch the wall like it can communicate all the things I’m thinking, like it can find the words I cannot say out loud and give them to Vesper on my behalf. “Goodnight,” I whisper to her, though I know she can’t hear me. “Sweet dreams.”