Page 88 of Wicked Refusal

“I’m not the one you should be thanking.”

Yulian.The thought warms me up from the inside. He asked for this—for me.

Suddenly, all I want is to go home. To feel his arms around me and breathe in his scent. To feel safe.

“Thank you,” I choke again. “Both of you. Really.”

“You’re welcome.” Isaak throws one last glance my way. “I’ll see you both soon.”

“Don’t count on it,” Nikita mutters under her breath, glaring daggers at his retreating back.

I stare at the paper in my hands long after Isaak is gone. His parting gift—and Yulian’s. I have no idea how this hearing will end. How vicious the battle will get, how bloody.

But I do know two things.

One—I’ll never let Brad take Eli from me. Not as long as I’m breathing.

And two?—

I’m going back to work.

30

MIA

I never thought I’d get first-day jitters again. But here I am, vibrating in my seat, watching anxiously out the window as Yulian’s Maybach pulls into the familiar roads that lead to Brownsville General Hospital.

Yulian shoots me a teasing glance. “Someone’s nervous.”

“I can’t help it,” I mumble. “It’s just been so long. What if I’m not good at it anymore?”

“I highly doubt that.”

The way he says it stirs all the butterflies in my stomach.

I think back to everything he’s done for me. Taking us in, bringing Isaak to the fight, reinstating me—all things that would have seemed impossible just mere months ago. Even during our first run, there were times where I felt hopelessly alone.

But not anymore.

“Thank you for doing this.” I put my hand on his knee, squeeze lightly. “I know it’s not what you wanted.”

“It’s what you wanted.” His eyes flick over to mine, a bottomless, ash-warm gray. “But I reserve the right to keep guards at every door.”

That drags a laugh out of me. “Just make sure Gwen doesn’t realize what they are. She’ll hunt them for sport.”

He pulls into the parking lot. His engine keeps rumbling under us. For a long second, neither one of us speaks.

“Don’t worry about the hearing,” Yulian says finally. “Isaak may be a cold-hearted son of a bitch, but he’s on our side. He’ll hold up his end of the bargain.”

“Why is he even helping us?” It’s not the question I really want to ask, but it’s the one I choose to focus on. Because if I start asking those other questions, I’m afraid I won’t be able to handle the answers.

What we are. Where we stand. What this makes us.

Oblivious to the storm inside me, Yulian shrugs. “We’re old allies. He scratches my back, I scratch his.”

“Now,that’san image I didn’t need in my head.”

“Then you shouldn’t have asked.”