Page 27 of Wicked Proposal

That’s a weakness I can’t afford.

“Mia,” I whisper, “talk to me. Tell me you’re alright.”

I tell myself it’s just insurance. I don’t want to waste my time driving her to the hospital, or filling out police reports, or paying for her therapy. After all, she signed up for this, didn’t she?

Except she didn’t. She had no idea who you were.

But now, she does.

Next to me, Mia finally moves. It’s so imperceptible I almost don’t catch it: a slow, shaky nod.

“Yeah,” she croaks. “Yeah, I—I’m good.”

Strong.It shouldn’t be the first word to come to mind, but it is. This woman, whoever she is—she’s way stronger than she seems.

Way fucking stronger than Brad Baldwin seemed to be giving her credit for.

But she isn’t strong enough to go home right now.

It’s a split-second decision, but like all the other choices I make, I don’t second-guess it.

“Do you trust me, Mia?”

Trust.It’s a word I’m not used to anymore. It’s been ages since I spoke it. Since I meant it.

There’s no reason she should say yes, but she does. “Yeah. I do.”

“Maks,” I bark, “turn left. We’re taking a detour.”

10

MIA

We pull up under a lone neon sign in the middle of nowhere.

I have no idea how long we’ve been driving. How long it’s taken me to come back to myself.

Even now, I’m not sure I’m fullyhere.

Not when part of me is stillthere, crushed to the chapel’s floor, Yulian’s cologne in my nostrils and the roar of gunfire in my ears.

Yulian.He’s opening the door now, climbing out and reaching in with his hand. This time, there’s no trace of forced gallantry.

“Come. We’re here.”

His hand is warm, strong.Real.I accept it, let it anchor me to the here and now.

When I’m outside, I take a deep breath of cool night air. That, too, helps ground me. We’re far from the city, somewhere green still exists outside of concrete squares, somewhere without lights.

If you squint, you can even see a handful of stars.

But it still doesn’t tell me where “here” is.

“Here meaning…?”

“A twenty-four-hour diner,” he explains. “They won’t ask questions. You can clean up in the bathroom, get changed.”

“Why would I need to…?” Finally, I glance down at my dress. My beautiful pale blue dress, now spattered with red. “Oh.”