50. Pasha
50
I eye the empty stretcher next to Makari and wonder if anyone would blame me for lying down on it. Just for a few minutes. Just a few moments to rest.
“Leave it to you,” I mutter at my little brother. I may or may not be a little envious of his ability to sleep through what nearly killed him. “Leave it to you to be the one who gets hurt and needs babying. Fucking typical.”
Mak groans without opening his eyes. “Oh, shut the hell up.”
I’d jump to my feet if I had any energy left. The fact that he even got stabbed in the first place stole ten years off my life.
“You’re awake. Fucking hell, you’re awake.”
He sighs and his face twists into a grimace, though his eyes remain closed. His voice, when he speaks, is a hollow rasp. “What even happened? I thought we had… friends. Watching.”
Translation: Where the fuck were our guards?
“I don’t know. I’m still trying to get answers.” I pass a hand over my face. “You need to focus on recovering.”
An awkward silence passes between us. It’s heavy with things I don’t know how to say.
For one horrifying minute, we weren’t sure he was ever going to wake up again.
I think he knows that. I’m not going to press him for answers, but I see the lines on his face that make me wonder if he looked death in the eye.
“So.” He licks his lips and cracks one eye open, prompting me to hand him a small plastic cup of water. “How are things?”
“Moving in a new direction. The knife in your side did you a favor, actually. The lawyers just got you released on bond. Now, you get to come home and be a pain in my side.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He blinks at me a few times, then frowns. “Is everyone else okay?”
“Mother is a mess, but she’ll be alright. Sofi is Sofi. Tatyanna might miss you the most, honestly. No accounting for taste.”
He cracks a wry grin. “She’s the only lovable one out of all you miserable bastards.” He chuckles for a second before he lapses back into seriousness. “And Daphne?”
“She’s… good. Great, really. Stronger than even I knew.”
Mak grins wide. “And to think, you never wanted to get married.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Oh, I am going to. Forever. Every anniversary and monumental life achievement. Gotta keep you humble.”
I clear my throat and push myself up out of the old plastic chair. “Well, let’s get you discharged and out of this hellhole. I have to keep you within state lines and away from trouble. And gun ranges.”
Mak winces, but whether from me helping him up or from the reminder of the raid at his range, I don’t know. “It’s going to be a long road back, isn’t it?”
“It is. But that’s why we walk it together.”
The jail infirmary was a concrete dead zone and my phone takes its sweet time reconnecting to service. It’s not until we’re emerging from the elevator onto my penthouse floor that it buzzes to life with missed texts.
A storm of them.
All from Daphne.
I tried calling a few times. You must be busy. It’s okay, I understand
I just wanted to let you know
It was my parents
They’re behind everything. All of it. The raids, Mak’s arrest, I think even his attack
They’re saying it’s all my fault. That they’re only doing this because of me. Which is a bunch of bullshit because I would NEVER
Please believe me, Pasha. If you believe anything, believe that I would never in a million years do any of this to you. Or to your family. MY family.
So I’m going to take care of this. I’m going to make them stop.
If they’re trying to destroy you because of me, they’re going to stop because of me
I love you, Pasha
Always
I try calling her phone, but it goes straight to voicemail.
“Pash?” Mak shuffles out of the elevator behind me. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t answer—I just run.
I burst through the penthouse door and meet the surprised stares of Hazel, Mama, and Sofi, all huddled around my daughter. “Where is she? Where’s Daphne?”
Hazel swallows hard and glances at the others. “She… she already left. She said she’s got to take care of a few things.”
Mama is the one who instantly picks up on my fear. Probably because I’m never actually afraid. Not until now.
“Pasha? Milyy? What’s wrong?”
I meet her gaze. I don’t know how to answer her.
Everything, Mama.
Everything is wrong.