Chapter 35 – Poppy
The rattle of the door handle sent my eyes shooting wide open.
Dammit. I would have thought this light sleeping ended when Brady was a toddler, but it seemed my instincts kept me alert.
A sleepy moan tugged at my throat, and I rolled over.
Because I took more of the blanket with me, a small fist padded my back.
Tossing the edge back over Brady, I prepared to doze back into the land of nod.
The bedroom doorknob twisted.
My eyes shot back open. I stared, ready to see what Ivan wanted. Was this a summons to a nocturnal tryst? My pulse pounded with a jolt of excitement.
“Poppy?” The voice that whispered my name was most definitely not Ivan’s.
Fear gripped me. The ice dashed away the luxurious anticipation. I sat up, peering into the crack.
“It’s Kiril,” the voice pestered. “Can you come out here for a second?”
I scrambled out of bed, pausing only to tuck in the sleepy bundle and smoothing back the mop of messy hair. Grabbing a sweatshirt, I tugged it over my top as I slipped through the door.
Kiril shut it and beckoned me to the kitchen. Something felt…off.
It wasn’t until he stopped under the light over the sink that I realized my instincts were spot on.
“Oh, Blessed Virgin, what?” I gasped, stepping forward to grab the back of the nearest chair.
“There was a fight.”
My heart stopped beating. Actually stopped. I covered my mouth with both hands, ignoring the pain shooting down my left side.
“Ivan’s alive,” he rushed to say.
I sagged into the chair. A weak thump pattered in my chest. It barely had the strength to bring the oxygen from my lungs to the blood capsules.
“But it’s not good,” Kiril finished.
I sucked a deep breath, lowering my hands to rub my chest. “Saints, man! Can’t you get a complete sentence out!”
Kiril jumped forward and tugged a chair out. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”
“You think?” I snapped. Sitting down only made it so I didn’t fall. The world still spun in jerky motions around me.
The mobster pushed my head gently between my legs. “Breathe.”
“Fine,” I ground out, because he was right. “Tell me everything.”
Kiril took the chair next to me, patting my head absently. “They went to take care of a problem.”
I groaned.
“Are you going to be sick?”
“No,” I growled. “Talk!”
“They went to take care of a problem.”
I bit my tongue hard not to yell at him for repeating himself. Stars danced across my vision, and I squeezed my eyes closed tightly.
“It was over pretty quick, all things considered. But we took some casualties. And a few of the guys are in pretty rough shape,” Kiril muttered. “Including Ivan.”
Breathe in.
The clock ticked on the wall.
Breathe out.
“How bad?” I lifted my head and took another gulp of air.
“He’ll make it, but he’s lost a lot of blood. He kept cussing out the doctor we use.” There was a note of pride in Kiril’s voice. “He wanted doc to take care of Rayko first, but other than a shattered femur, some head trauma, and a nasty gash, Ray’s fine.”
If that was fine….
Oh, shit. I was going to puke.
Kiril shoved my head back between my legs. “That’s it, breathe.”
I considered strangling the bastard. If I could do it, I would have.
“I just…thought you would want to know,” Kiril murmured.
It’s just mob business. I was rusty. This kind of thing happened to my father’s men. Once to my brother. But I always knew long after the fact. Never in the moment. So, in a way, this was a first. Turned out, I hated being kept in the loop.
I was handling the news splendidly.
Forcing back the churning in my gut, I straightened once more. “Get me water. Then take me to him.”
Kiril hesitated. “He’ll be home in the morning. Probably.”
“Kiril!” I barked. “Now.”
The mobster held up his palms. “Okay, okay!”
He hurried to the cupboards, banging them open and muttering in Bulgarian. I understood the choicer words.
“Left of the sink,” I instructed. At this point, it would have been faster to get my own damn cup. But I didn’t trust my legs to hold me.
Kiril snatched a cup, filled it from the fridge, and handed it to me. “Um.” He fidgeted with his shirt. “What about Brady-Boy?”
I choked.
Kiril hissed. Surging forward, he thumped my back.
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” I was anything but fine. “Can you tell me where to go and then stay here with him?”
“I kind of actually want to go see the guys. A few of my friends took bullets.” Kiril shifted.
“Wait….” I rubbed my forehead. “You weren’t there, were you?”
Kiril shook his head. “I was guarding the house.”
Of course he was.
Instantly, a small rush of gratitude spread through me. He’d been safe. Kiril was younger than the others, and I felt a special sort of protectiveness over him.
“Call Boris to come watch Brady?” I asked, rising and placing my cup in the sink.
Ivan was hurt. But there was a doctor, which was good.
I would just see for myself, make sure he was the same infuriating man who left, and then come home to make sure everything was ready when they moved him here.
He could cuddle and have a movie day with Brady.
Yes, that was a good idea! I was already moving back to the bedroom to grab jeans and a bra when a short, stunted breath made me realize Kiril hadn’t answered.
“Kiril?” I paused and saw the Made Man pinch his eyeballs shut with thumb and forefinger. “Kiril!”
“Boris is dead.”
I reached for the wall. The wave of sadness was almost as debilitating as the fear. This was the cost of being kept in the loop. There was no time for the others to process the events. I felt everything Kiril felt.
The poor guy sucked short breaths into his lungs. He was fighting hard not to cry.
I knew what a vulnerability that was for men like him. But screw that.
Moving to his side, I rubbed his back and cradled his head against my stomach. Kiril struggled with his sobs, while I fought back tears of my own.
“Sshhh,” I breathed. “I know it hurts. It’s okay, let it out.”
My voice hitched, but Kiril nodded. We stayed locked together as the damn clock pecked away the seconds—then minutes. Death had visited tonight. I slept through it. Kiril was away from it.
Who else did he claim?
I didn’t know many of the other men. But the loss of Boris was enough. The news made my heart ring with pain.
Suddenly, Kiril reared up and shot away from me.
“What the heck?” I snapped, stumbling to catch my balance.
“I can’t be touching you!” True panic consumed him. “Boss’s orders.”
I wanted to roll my eyes. “It’s okay, Kiril. I was the one—”
“No,” he shook his head vehemently, “Boss said he’d remove the fingers of any man who laid a hand on you.”
“Your hands were in your lap and on your face. I hugged you.” Enough of this macho shit. We had real problems. “Let’s go.”
Kiril wasn’t convinced.
I clenched my fists at my side. “I won’t tell, and it will pass. Now. Take me to Ivan.”
“Brady?” he reminded me.
Holy Virgin, that was twice now I’d forgotten about that detail.
“Um, if you’d like, we can take him to my house?” Kiril offered hesitantly. “He’ll be okay, and my wife should be able to put him back to sleep on the couch.”
“Yeah, sure, that’d be good—” I halted. “Your wife?”
He had a WIFE!
A ghost of a smile played on his saucy mouth. “Yeah, Katerina. My wife.”
He didn’t look old enough to have one.
“She’s not sleeping anyhow because our one-month-old is colicky. She’s got a set of lungs, that girl.” There was real pride filling his voice now. It helped the smile brighten.
“How did I not know that?” I muttered, going to the bedroom.
I changed quickly and then scooped up the sleeping bundle. “Hey, buddy, mama has to run somewhere quick. You’re going to stay with a nice lady named Katerina.”
“I like Miss Kat,” Brady murmured, eyes still glued shut with sleep. “Her cookies are almost as good as yours.”
Great. Even my son knew about her.
Once in the truck, I pinned Kiril with a look. “Why haven’t you brought Katerina over to introduce us?”
The Made Man frowned. “Um…honestly, didn’t think about it.”
Ivan obviously hadn’t. Or worse, maybe he had and thought it was better to keep me from having a friendship. Oooh, I wanted to strangle that man! I didn’t know which was worse. Was he a big dummy? Or was he keeping me in an isolated bubble? Which was no better than a cage.
If Ivan wanted me to stay, he could have introduced me to Kiril’s wife, and if I had a friend, I probably would have decided a lot sooner. Men were so dense sometimes.
Hush. That’s just your hormones and emotions. Ivan was wounded.
And I was avoiding thinking about it by fixating on something else.
“She didn’t bring it up?” I felt petty. There was a girl here who could have been my friend. It felt like they were keeping her from me.
The next words out of Kiril’s mouth immediately slapped the pity party right out of me.
“She wanted to, but then she had the baby and has been kinda busy, Poppy.” Kiril turned the next block over and pulled up in front of a two-story home. “Sorry.”
“Saints above, I’m an ass. No, I am sorry, Kiril.” I patted his shoulder. “But I would have brought her meals. Or snacks. Or treats.”
“We’ll fix it,” he said kindly. “But after tonight’s nightmare is over.”
Tonight’s nightmare.
That was why I was acting out about the lost friendship. It was easier to fixate on that rather than the bigger picture right now.
“Right,” I agreed and hopped out.
Brady burrowed into me. “Mama, what nightmare? Did you have a scary dream?” he lisped.
Oh, my ever-loving word, I’m off my game tonight. “Yeah, baby, a real scary one.”
“Tatko can make it better,” Brady yawned. “Where is he?”
Suffering somewhere. “That’s where I’m going, buddy. He’s going to fix it.”
“You like him a lot, don’t you, mama.” He nuzzled me and drifted back to sleep.
“Yeah, bud. A whole heaping load.”
Brady smiled up at my whisper. “Knew it.”
Katerina was a curvy blonde with dark circles under her pretty brown eyes. She exchanged a few rapid words with Kiril, gave him a fast kiss, and took Brady from me. From within the house, a baby began to wail.
“Go, go!” she insisted, giving me a smile. “I’ve got this.”
I felt horrible.
But Kiril was already pulling me back to the truck. “Come on, Poppy! Doc texted. Ivan’s going into shock.”
I ran.