Chapter 25 Gennadiy
GENNADIY
The sight of her standing on my doorstep, so small and vulnerable, nearly broke me.
It took everything I had just to keep my expression stony and unyielding.
But when she asked for my help, I almost crumbled completely.
It wasn’t just the fear in her voice; it was that she’d come to me, which meant she had no one else.
All the feelings that had been building for months welled up, and I had to brace my hands on the door frame to keep from grabbing her and pulling her to me.
It didn’t matter how I felt about her. She was still a cop. Still part of the system that tore my family apart. We were on opposite sides in a war that would never end. But all of those reasons I kept clawing at as handholds...they were feeling less like iron and more like smoke.
I stepped back from the door and waved her in. She walked beside me through the hallway, looking absurdly small in the cavernous space. In the living room, she stopped in the center, just...lost. I forced myself to keep my distance. “What happened?” I asked gruffly.
She told me about being set up by someone at the FBI.
“We were wrong before,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.
“Whoever’s behind this is trying to get rid of me, not you.
They didn’t manage to kill me, so now they’re getting me thrown in jail.
Then they can pay someone to shiv me in the showers.
” She gave a bitter little laugh. “They might not even have to pay. An FBI agent in jail? Someone’ll do me for free. ”
Before I could stop myself, I’d marched over to her and grabbed her shoulders. “No one’s killing you,” I snapped. I just meant to reassure her, but my words put a knife through the whole idea of someone hurting her. She lifted her chin and looked up at me and—
Blyat’. I’d never looked into anyone’s eyes and seen that before. Hope. My hands tightened on her shoulders, and God, I just wanted to crush my lips down on hers and let all her good and all my bad obliterate one another.
I turned away and stalked over to a side table. I knew what I had to do. “You’ll be out of the country tonight,” I told her.
“What?!” she asked behind me. Then, “I don’t have my passport.”
I didn’t dare turn around. “I know someone who can make you a new one.” The idea of never seeing her again was tearing a hole in my heart. I hadn’t been ready for how much it would hurt. But this was the only way to keep her safe.
“I don’t have any money!” she protested.
“I’ll give you some,” I said. I just about managed to keep the pain out of my voice. “Enough to get started. A hundred thousand.” I poured vodka, my knuckles white on the bottle.
“You’d do that?” she asked quietly. “Why?”
I turned around. “You saved my life.”
She stared up at me and chyort, there was a different kind of hope in her eyes. “Weren’t we mortal enemies just a few weeks ago?” she asked.
Don’t break. Especially not now, when I’d be saying goodbye in a few hours. “A hundred grand,” I said coldly, “is a small price to pay to have you out of my hair forever.”
She locked eyes with me, challenging me, and my expression almost faltered. Yebat’! She was too good at reading me. I pushed a glass of vodka into her hand and turned away, drinking and not tasting it.
“Where would I go?” she asked.
“Wherever you want,” I said coldly. “I don’t care.”