Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
Kira
Artyom walks me through the hospital entrance with his hand warm at the small of my back, the pressure steady and silent and claiming in a way that twists something deep in my stomach.
He stayed close the entire morning, even closer than usual, and it’s making my thoughts scatter.
His body brushes mine when we turn a corner, the rough fabric of his jacket grazing against my arm, and my pulse jumps because all I can think about is last night and the way he held me and the way he looked at me afterward like he couldn’t believe I’d said I loved him.
I’m still trying to breathe normally around him.
“Call me when you’re done with morning rounds,” he says, his voice low, keeping his tone soft because nurses are walking by. “I’ll be talking to the head of the hospital. Don’t disappear on me again.”
The last sentence hits me harder than it should. I nod. “I won’t.”
He looks at me for one more second, his eyes tracing my face like he wants to say something else but chooses not to. Then he turns toward the admin wing and disappears behind a glass door. The moment he’s out of sight, my chest loosens just enough for me to inhale properly again.
I walk toward the patient rooms with my clipboard pressed against my chest, organizing the list in my head.
Vitals, meds, stitches, wound checks—normal routine, something steady and predictable, exactly what I need this morning.
The halls are quiet, too early for the chaos of the afternoon rush, and I fall into the rhythm easily.
I’m checking a post-op patient’s chart when I hear it: “Kira.”
No. Impossible. I freeze, my heart slams hard against my ribs. I turn slowly, my breath trapped somewhere in my throat.
Lucas is standing in the hallway.
He looks worse than yesterday.
“What—Lucas, what—” I grab his sleeve and yank him into the nearest empty room before anyone can see, shutting the door quietly behind us and locking it. “Are you insane? How did you—how are you even here? What happened last night?”
“I need you,” he says immediately, ignoring every question. His voice trembles, and he drags both hands through his hair, pacing like the floor is burning under his feet. “I can’t stay here, Kira. I can’t stay in this city. I have to go. Today. Right now. If I don’t leave—”
He stops talking, chest rising too fast.
“Lucas,” I whisper, stepping in front of him to stop the pacing, “tell me what happened. How did you get away from those men?”
He shakes his head violently. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does—”
“No,” he snaps, grabbing my shoulders. His grip is tighter than he realizes. “Kira, listen to me. I won’t be safe if I stay. They’re going to kill me, or use me, or trade me, or—I don’t know.” His voice cracks. “I can’t stay here. Not after last night.”
He looks over my shoulder at the door, eyes wide and full of dread. “And I can’t leave without you.”
My stomach drops. “Lucas, no. I’m not going with you.”
“You are,” he insists, a desperate tremor in his voice. “You have to. We’re all we have.”
“No.” I shake my head, stepping back so his hands fall from me. “I’m not leaving with you. I told you yesterday. I will help you but I’m staying.”
He stares at me like I slapped him. “Because of him.”
I don’t respond. My silence is enough.
Lucas lets out a sharp breath, then covers his face with both hands, pushing his palms hard against his eyes like he’s trying to erase something behind them. When he looks at me again, his expression changes—less panic, more calculation.
“Fine,” he says quietly. “If you won’t come with me… then I need money.”
The words hit me like a shove. “What?”
“I have to leave. I need cash. Enough to get out, stay hidden, move around. I don’t have time to figure anything out myself. Just—help me.” He steps closer and grips my arms again. “Please.”
“Lucas,” I push, “what is it for?”
“Don’t do that,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Don’t parent me. Just help me.”
“I’m not giving you money unless you tell me why—”
“Because I need it,” he snaps, voice rising. “Isn’t that enough for you? I need it, and you’re the only person in the world who’d give it to me.”
My throat tightens painfully, because it’s true.
He softens slightly, reaching out to hold my wrist. “Kira… please. I’m begging you. I can’t get out without your help.”
His fingers tremble where they grip my arm. Empathy is a weakness, especially when it comes to him, but it’s stronger than me, I cannot help it.
I swallow hard. “I don’t have that much cash, so I’ll have to go and withdraw money. But you have to promise me, Lucas, I never want to be in a situation like this again. I can’t baby you forever.”
“I… I promise.”
“Where will I give it to you?” I whisper.
He hesitates for a moment, then says, “There’s a park near your place. Dawn. No cars, no people. Meet me there.”
My heart pounds. “Lucas, that’s—”
“It’s the only way.” He squeezes my wrist. “Please. Just one last time. Help me leave.”
I exhale slowly. “Okay.”
He releases my hand instantly, relief flooding his face, and he steps back toward the door like he’s already ready to run.
“Kira,” he says softly, “don’t tell him.”
I look at the floor. “I’m not stupid, Lucas, of course I won’t.”
He slips out of the room and down the hall before I can say anything else.
I stand there alone, shaking. I’m about to give away a large part of the savings I worked years for, lie to the man who terrifies half this city and that I love, and meet my brother in secret.
I don’t know which choice is worse, but I already know which one I’m going to make.
I force myself to breathe, smooth my scrubs, and check the hallway twice before unlocking the door and stepping out.
The hospital looks exactly the same—quiet, fluorescent, predictable—but it feels different now that I’m carrying something I can’t let anyone see.
I walk faster than I usually do, keeping my head down, keeping my hands tight around my clipboard as if that could anchor me.
The rest of the shift passes quietly, almost suspiciously so.
No difficult patients, no unexpected complications, no emergencies to distract me.
On the outside it looks like the easiest day I’ve had in weeks, but inside I can barely focus.
I keep replaying Lucas’s face, his shaking hands, the way he kept glancing over his shoulder like the walls themselves were listening.
I tell myself I want the shift to end so I can get out of this building and breathe again, but the truth is I’m terrified of the moment it does end, because once I clock out, everything becomes real.
I’ll have to follow through with the plan I agreed to, lie to Artyom in a way that feels like splitting something open inside my chest. I’ll have to help my brother disappear and pretend I don’t know what that means.
Every hour brings me closer to something I don’t want to face, and yet I can’t stop walking toward it.
By the time my shift is finally over and I make it down the corridor toward the entrance, my heartbeat hasn’t slowed once.
Artyom is waiting outside in the car, sunlight catching the edge of his jaw, his hand tapping once against the steering wheel when he sees me walk out. He unlocks the doors without looking away.
“You’re done early,” he says as I slide into the seat.
“I finished quicker than usual,” I force my voice steady.
He studies my face for one long second, the kind of stare that sees too much, but he nods and starts the engine. “Good. We have errands.”
My stomach flips. Errands usually mean security updates or meetings or something he needs me quiet for. I’m already nauseous from what I’m about to do, and the weight of the cash withdrawal sits in my chest even before I’ve taken a single bill.
“Could we go to the mall?” I ask, keeping my voice light. “I have something to pick up for Lilly. It’ll take a minute.”
He doesn’t question it but his jaw shifts once, barely noticeable, and he pulls onto the main road without another word. I stare out the window the whole time, trying not to think about what I’m about to do and failing at every single attempt.
When we get there, he pulls up to the entrance and puts the car in park. He stays behind the wheel, one hand resting loosely on it, the other drumming once against his thigh.
“How long?” he asks, eyes lifting to mine.
“Ten minutes,” I say quickly. “Just wait here. I’ll be right back.”
His gaze stays on me, steady and too sharp, like he’s trying to read between the lines. I force myself to keep my expression calm even though my chest feels too tight for air.
“Fine,” he says eventually, but his voice drops lower. “Don’t make me come looking for you.”
My stomach flips at the warning. Not because I’m afraid he’ll hurt me because I know he wouldn’t, but because he’ll know. He always knows when I’m hiding something.
“Ten minutes,” I repeat, gripping the strap of my bag tighter. “I’ll be quick.”
He nods once, slow, his eyes following me as I open the door and step out. I pretend I don’t feel the weight of his stare on my back as I walk toward the mall entrance, but I feel it with every step.
Inside the mall, the air is colder. Cleaner. It makes my breath shake. I walk straight to the ATMs on the second floor, my steps quick but not rushed-looking. The machine hums loudly when I insert my card, and my hands tremble as I type my PIN. The screen asks how much I want to withdraw.
I should take out just a reasonable amount, enough to help him leave.
I press the highest limit. The machine flashes, then spits out bills in a thick stack that feels heavier than my hand should be able to carry. I shove the money into my bag, my breath tight in my chest, the guilt already burning hot under my skin. If Artyom sees this—
No. I’m not thinking about that. Not right now.
I hurry back to the car. He’s already inside, leaning back with one arm draped across the steering wheel, his eyes locking onto me the second I open the door.
“You were quick,” he says.
“Yeah.” My voice feels too thin.
He studies me again, slower this time. “You okay?”
“Yes.” It comes out too fast.
His brows tighten slightly, but he lets it go for now.
The drive home is quiet. Heavy. Thick with everything I’m hiding and everything he’s not saying. His hand rests on the console, fingers tapping lightly, a habit he only has when he’s thinking too hard. I stare out the window, clutching my bag on my lap like it’s a shield.
When we pull into the driveway and walk inside, his phone rings immediately. He glances at the screen, his jaw tightening.
“Father,” he mutters, then answers. “Yes.”
I stand near the stairs, pretending not to listen, but the tone of his voice gives away everything he’s not saying.
“Tomorrow morning?”
Pause.
“I’ll be there.”
Another pause.
“Yes. Alone.”
He ends the call and puts the phone in his pocket, exhaling slowly. I try to keep my face blank.
“Meeting?” I ask, my voice soft.
“Yes,” he says. “Something he wants me to deal with.” He steps closer and brushes his thumb across my cheek, making my breath stutter. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “Okay.”
He leans in, kissing me softly, slowly, too gently for how tense he is. My stomach twists because he doesn’t know where I’ll be at dawn. He doesn’t know what I pulled out of my bank account. He doesn’t know I’m going to meet Lucas before the sun rises.