Chapter 33
Chapter thirty-three
The days we’ve spent at Mom’s house have been some of the best of my life.
Our security system hasn’t been sorted out yet, and we’ve had to stay longer than intended, so the entire family decided to stay in solidarity.
It’s coming up on a week of us being here, and I don’t feel smothered at all.
I can’t recall the last time I’ve spent this much time with my family, and I don’t know if it’s because I have my wife at my side, but it's been therapeutic. A peace I didn’t realize I was missing until now.
Katarina seems to be enjoying herself as well, lazing about with Mom, Margot, and Sloane.
Since the snow has melted, Ledger, Jack, and I left early this morning to run before the girls woke up.
I’ve run ahead of them since my wife isn’t quite the late sleeper that Margot and Sloane are, and I’m hoping we can have a moment of quiet together to do our daily crosswords before we have to leave for the morgue.
A couple of days ago, a man was found dead on our property, and authorities have asked us if we could help ID the body.
We aren’t suspects, considering our alibi is airtight, thanks to the video evidence of us being here for the past week.
Additionally, I had already reported the break-in on the day we left, so it’s pretty clear to the authorities that we’re not involved.
By the time I reach the kitchen, Katarina is sitting at the table, dressed with today’s paper in her hand. She accepts my sweaty kiss but demands I go get a quick shower, insisting that we can do the crossword in the car on our way.
“That’s him, Henry. That’s the man I was telling you about. Tommy or Timothy or whoever,” Katarina says, eyes wide as she stares at the dead body in front of us. “Do you think he was on his way to break in again? What happened to him?”
“We aren’t sure, ma’am,” the medical examiner says.
“The body shows no signs of an attack. There are no aberrations or wounds. There were no signs of internal bleeding during the autopsy. The quick toxicology report didn’t show any signs of drug use, but we’ll have to wait several weeks for the more comprehensive testing results.
As of right now, all we know is that he died approximately four days ago. ”
“That would’ve been Christmas. All the staff knew we would be gone.” Katarina says, still staring at the lifeless man. “So maybe he didn’t want to do us any harm, just wanted to get something from the house. But what? And why would my room be the first place he would look?”
I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest. “Darling, there’s no way to understand some people. We don’t even know if it was him in the first place. I’ll admit, he’s my first suspect, but his death is strange.”
“Where was he found?” Katarina asks.
“I believe near the western border of the property,” the examiner says, flipping through the charts. “Yes, western border, in front of a greenhouse.”
“Hmm, that’s not even close to where I ran into him that one day. I was walking back home from a loop around the pond in the southeastern corner.”
I move my hands to bracket Katarina’s shoulders, sensing how uncomfortable she is. “Well, if that’s all you need, I think we should be on our way.”
The examiner shakes both our hands and tells us he’ll be in touch with the reports of the other tests they ran, and bids us goodbye.
When we get back to the house, Mom greets us with a spread of lunch, letting us know the rest of the family, including LJ, are napping. We both join her at the breakfast table, munching on some leftovers, when she hands Katarina an envelope.
“This is addressed to you, darling.”
Katarina looks as confused as I am as she takes the piece of mail from my mom. “Um, that’s strange. The only person who knows I’m here is Sasha, and he’s hardly one to send Christmas cards.”
“Ah yes, your oh-so-charming cousin! You should have invited him to join us. He seems like he would be a great compa…”
Katarina’s gasp stops Mom from finishing her thought. Both Mom and I wait for anything from her, but she just sits there, eyes wide. When she starts shaking, I decide I’m done waiting.
“Kitten?” I take her wrists in my hand and rub calming circles with my thumbs. “What is it?”
She slowly brings her eyes to meet mine and hands me the letter in her hand.
Two lines. Eleven words. It’s such an insignificant amount of ink to make such an impact.
Mom takes the letter from my hand after I’ve gone still as well. “Oh fuck!”
Mom’s sudden burst of profanity causes Katarina and me to fall out of our stupor as we snap our attention to her.
I’m not sure what’s going through my wife’s head right now, but my brain has finally started working again as I lift her out of her chair and march her up the stairs to our room.
I don’t give a damn who I wake up in the process.
As soon as we get in the room, I lock the door behind us, then toss her maybe a little too roughly onto the bed.
I don’t care at this point. Not even her fucking adorable little squeak will change the darkness I’ve spiraled into since reading that letter.
She watches me pace back and forth for God knows how long, probably too scared to say anything.
I'm sure I'm a sight right now: hair disheveled, shirt untucked, and barely holding on to my sanity.
I’m racking my brain, trying to figure out who might be after her, and the only person who fits all the clues is her uncle.
Ivan Taranov. The man who was weird as fuck at our wedding and at her father’s funeral.
The motherfucker who tried buying her back from me.
Who in their goddamn mind does something like that?
I’m trying to figure out how to strangle the bastard to death right fucking now, but he’s so heavily guarded I wouldn’t stand a chance.
There’s a reason they were able to keep Katarina hidden for so long.
Nobody has dared to say anything, but there’s no denying they at least have strong ties to the bratva.
His men would gun me down before I even stepped foot on that compound uninvited.
Realizing I’m going to have to take my time and politic my way to her uncle causes me to see red.
Spinning, I slam my fist into the wall, the impact breaking through the drywall.
“Fuck!” I yell. I fall back against the wall, blood dripping from my hand.
My heavy breathing is the only sound in the room.
My wife’s pensive voice breaks the silence. “Henry, are you okay?”
She’s sitting back on her knees at the edge of the bed closest to me, her arms wrapped around her waist, as if to protect herself. As if to fucking protect herself from me. I sigh, realizing how I’ve scared her with my little tantrum, and pull myself up from the floor.
“No, Katarina. I’m not okay,” I say, stroking her hair with my uninjured hand when I reach where she’s sitting. Her hands find my chest, rubbing up and down to try to soothe me. Try. “Someone is threatening my entire world, and I don’t know how to get to them.”
“Wait? You know who it is?” she asks, looking up with wide eyes, her movement paused.
“I have a good idea who it is. I think it’s your uncle, Katarina.”
“Henry, you can’t be serious!” she says, pulling back from me. Fucking pulling away from me.
I’m pretty sure there’s smoke coming from my ears as I lunge at her, grabbing her hips and yanking her back, flush to my body. “Yes. I am serious. And I’m trying to figure out a way to get to him without being shot down in the process.”
“Love, I don’t think it’s him. I mean, he’s always been sort of strange, but why don’t you just talk to him? I can reach out to Sasha.”
“Fuck, yes!” I say, remembering my cousin-in-law. Sasha and I have gotten close enough over the past few months, and I feel certain he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Katarina.
I plant a long kiss on the top of her head before pulling back to look into her beautiful violet eyes. “Stay,” I say as I turn to leave.
I’m going to the Taranov compound right fucking now, and I have a lot to arrange before I arrive. Starting with the jet, then I’ll probably need to get Danny in to make sure I don’t do anything traceably illegal, then…
“Excuse me?” the tiny woman says from behind me.
Turning, I see that she’s hopped off the bed and stands a few feet away. Looking up at me, she’s pouting with her arms crossed. She’s mad, and it’s fucking adorable.
“Yes?” I smirk.
“Where do you think you’re going? And what the fuck do you mean by ‘stay’?”
I can feel my dick growing harder with each word from this brat's lips as I tower over her, walking her backward. “Language, little girl.”
For every step I take toward her, she takes two back until she hits the bed, losing her balance and falling back onto the mattress.
I bend, caging her in with my arms and hovering over her, my gaze never leaving hers.
“I’m going to figure out who is threatening my wife.
And you are going to stay in the goddamn room until I get back. Is that clear?”
She narrows her eyes at me, trying to shove me, to no avail. She pushes with all her might, not forcing me to move in the slightest.
“I said, is. That. Clear?”
“You can't just keep me here, Henry! I was locked away for nineteen years, and I am not going to be caged again! Not by you or anyone else!”
Her words flip a switch in my brain. I’m not anyone else.
I’m her fucking husband, and she better believe I’ll do whatever I have to to keep her safe.
I’ll burn the entire fucking planet down to keep her safe.
Picking her up by her perfect ass, I toss her back on the bed, giving myself room to crawl on as well.
“Oh, Kitten, you have no idea the lengths to which I would go to keep you safe. I’ll lock you in a cage and keep you hidden so that I’m the only one who knows where you are.
You’re lucky I’m not tying you up and leaving you that way until I return.
I’ll keep you safe until we catch whoever this is or whoever else may want to come after my wife.
” With every statement, I move farther down the bed until I have her trapped against the headboard.
I stop inches from her face, close enough for her to see the fire burning in my eyes.
“I’ll make sure to come and fuck you, though, Kitten.
I’ll keep you full of my cum, just like I promised. ”
I crash my mouth to hers, my kiss as violent as my headspace right now.
She tries to shove me off again, but it only makes me kiss her harder, biting and sucking on her lips and tongue.
The blood from my hand now smeared all over her face where I’ve grabbed her makes her look every bit as animalistic as I feel.
She bites back on my tongue, hard, the taste of metal filling my mouth.
“Mmm, fuck, baby,” I growl. “You know, you better be glad I’m in such a hurry or I would spank that bratty ass of yours.”
Try as she might, she can’t help the moan that escapes her mouth or the way her eyes roll back at my words.
“There’s my girl. Now be a good girl and let Daddy fuck you into this mattress before he has to go kill your uncle.”