Chapter 23
LIA
What am I doing? Seriously?
Joel and Tessa have both asked what’s wrong today. I lied and said I was tired. Then I realized, well, that’s not really a lie. But it’s not the reason I’ve felt so scatterbrained all day.
I didn’t plan on texting Maksim yesterday, but I was going crazy thinking about the sex. Before him, obviously I wasn’t a virgin. But I’m starting to think I might as well have been. I used to hear other women talk about their sex lives and believe I must’ve been wired differently.
Still, this is nuts.
He admitted to being a killer, and I’m taking him to meet my mother.
He’s waiting outside, leaning against his car, that confident smirk on his face.
The ride over is quiet, but not in a bad way. It’s like he knows I need the space to let the workday drain away before I face Mom. I shouldn’t think of it like that. Face Mom. She’s not some monster I should be wary of. But Maksim’s right. The toll is becoming heavy, and I need help.
I let myself in, finding Mom in the living room, staring at the switched-off TV.
“Mom,” I say softly. “I hope it’s okay. I brought somebody. His name is Maksim. He’s a colleague at the hospital. I’m giving him a ride home because his car is in the shop.”
She stands, brushing down her sweater, seeming to make an effort to be in the room. Maksim walks in beside me. Mom sizes him up, looking him up and down.
He offers his hand, speaking gently. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Quinn.”
“And you, Maksim. Would you like something to drink?”
“Allow me,” Maksim says. “If that’s okay?”
She smiles. “Of course. How kind of you.”
Maksim leaves the room. I shoot him a grateful look. Mom moves closer to me, lowering her voice. “A friend, you say?”
“A colleague.”
“That was quite the look for a colleague.”
I swallow. Crap.
“What look?”
When she smiles, she’s more like her old self. Cheeky and charming and present, that most of all. “This look,” she says, then imitates me going all goggle-eyed.
I laugh. “No, Mom, it’s not like that.”
Except, it’s exactly like that. Not even a week after that poor man’s murder and a revelation that should’ve sent me straight to the police station.
Maksim brings through a tray with three coffee cups on it. I try to keep the looks to a minimum, but it’s difficult. My heart gives a pang when Mom goes to the window and opens the curtains. Maybe I should’ve brought company by a long time ago. This might be just what she needed.
“You have a lovely home,” Maksim says. “Is this where you raised Lia?”
“We lived in an apartment before,” she replies. “But I worked and saved, then we moved here. And Lia, oh, darling Lia, she helped me.”
“Mom,” I murmur. “We helped each other.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Maksim says. “Let her give you some credit. You deserve it.”
I smile again, widely. He’s so caring sometimes. As I look into his understanding face, I find it difficult to believe that anything he’s told me is true. He’s killed ten men. He’s ordered more. He’s the king or leader of the Bratva.
Now, here, he’s just a handsome, caring man who wants the best for me.
“He’s right,” Mom says. “You should be proud.”
“Did she get her wicked sense of humor from you too?” Maksim asks, smirking.
Mom chuckles. “I think they both did.” Her expression darkens. She often does this, talks as if Evan is still here with us. “I’m… sorry.” She stands, getting ready to rush from the room.
Maksim stands and gently steps toward the door.
“Ms. Quinn,” he says. “I don’t know you very well, but I know enough to understand what you’ve lost. And I know enough to understand that feeling never goes away.
I just want you to understand, you’re not making me uncomfortable if you need to feel it.
Whatever that means. You don’t need to be embarrassed. ”
A knot forms in my chest, full of emotion, but all the best kind.
Mom sits, interlocking her fingers. “I don’t know what to say. How lovely. Are you a psychologist, Maksim?”
“It’s a benefit to my career if I know what makes people tic,” he answers smoothly.
I take a sip from my cup to hide my smile.
“How very mysterious,” Mom says, lighting up like her old self. She seems to have taken to Maksim after his speech. And I can’t blame her. He’s such a conundrum, savage one minute and gentle the next. “What do you think makes my daughter tick, then?”
“Mom!” I say, but I’m laughing too.
This is almost normal, well… on the surface. This is the sort of mother-daughter banter I’ve missed ever since Evan passed.
“If I were a smart man, I wouldn’t answer that question,” Maksim says, winking at me.
I smile, feeling lightheaded for a blissful moment.
“Maybe I’m asking you to be a fool for a little while, then,” Mom says, with some of her old wit.
He chuckles. “What do you think, Lia? Can I dare to answer?”
I place my cup down, my hand shaking slightly. “As long as you know I have access to serious surgical implements.”
He laughs harder, then turns to Mom. “The only thing that makes Lia tick is helping other people. It’s wired into her brain, into her heart. Your daughter is the most caring person I’ve ever met. She can’t help it. She can’t switch it off. It’s just who she is.”
Mom looks at me with glistening eyes. “That’s true. Yes, that’s her. That’s my girl.”
My stomach goes warm and fuzzy.
“I sometimes wonder…” Mom trails off with a loud swallow.
“Mom?” I whisper.
She looks at me. “I should be there for you more.”
“Mom, it’s fine.”
“It’s not,” she says. “And it shouldn’t take the words of a stranger to make me understand that.”
I walk across the room, bending down and hugging her. When I return to my chair, Maksim is looking at me with a soft expression.
He’s my watcher, my stalker, the man who’s obsessed with me, the man who lied, and yet I can’t downplay how special this is.
“You must be very good at your job,” Mom says. “You got into my head like that.” She laughs as she snaps her fingers.
“There’s always room for improvement,” Maksim mutters, glancing at the window. I know he’s thinking about security, about dead Daniel, about his enemies and threats. “But thank you, Ms. Quinn.”
“Evelyn, please.”
Another flurry in my belly. It feels like my boyfriend is meeting my mom. Which, of course, isn’t exactly what’s happening here. But I can’t deny how special it feels?—
A backfiring car interrupts my thoughts. Then another. And another.
Maksim looks up and rushes across the room, taking a gun from his waistband. I realize I’m wrong. It’s not a car.
“Down!” he bellows.
He grabs my mom and lowers her to the floor, looking over at me, smiling nervously when he sees that I’ve already done as he said. I crawl to Mom and drape my body over hers, practically hyperventilating, trying not to panic.
“I didn’t think he was capable,” Maksim growls under his breath. “Rat.”
More gunfire. Mom is babbling, asking what’s going on, her voice tearing with sobs. My heart breaks as I realize I brought this to her door. By standing up to that goon, by refusing to give him the phone – and by giving myself to the Bratva king – I made us a target.
Maksim moves to the door, his gun raised.
“We’re leaving by the back,” he yells, voice raised above the surrounding gunfire. “You’ll have to crawl. I’m sorry.”
“Mom—please.” I tug on her arm. “Mom.”
She looks at me as if waking from a dream, only to realize she’s emerged into a nightmare. “Uh, yes, yes.” She blinks up at Maksim. “Why does he have a gun?”
My stomach drops. This is where lies have got us.
“Move,” Maksim says. “Please. Quickly.”
Mom and I crawl through the hallway, Maksim walking ahead of us, spinning to check behind. In the kitchen, he walks toward the door. It suddenly bursts open, and a man comes rushing in. Maksim turns, grabbing the man’s arm and throwing him over his shoulder.
He lands with a crunch.
“Argh!” Maksim roars when the man fires a shot up at him. It hits him in the side. Maksim shoots, two quick shots. Bang, bang. And the man lies there, a mess of death.
He moves to the door, wincing. Mom stares wide-eyed at the corpse on her kitchen floor.
“Don’t look,” I whisper, trembling. My experiences in the ER have made me tough, but this is still a lot. “Mom, just close your eyes.”
She does what I say, quivering.
“Boss,” a man with a Russian accent grunts, rushing into the room. “These bastards.”
“Car, now,” Maksim snarls.
“It’s ready.”
“Take her.”
He must point to Mom. A moment later, Maksim is bending down to pick me up. When he winces, I find my feet. “You’re too hurt to carry me.”
“I’ll never be too hurt for that,” he growls.
“Maksim, let me walk!”
He reluctantly lets me go, but keeps one hand wrapped around mine. The other man throws Mom over his shoulder, and we rush through the backyard. Maksim pushes me into the back of a large SUV, then climbs in after me. Mom climbs inside. The man slams the door, and the driver immediately pulls away.
I turn to Mom, checking she isn’t hit, then tear off strips of my clothes and apply pressure to Maksim’s wound. He stares out the window, his jaw tight.
“I think it grazed you,” I say.
“It’s fine,” he grunt.
“We need to keep the pressure on,” I tell him. “And I’ll need a first-aid kit.”
He turns to me with a smirk on his face.
“What are you smiling at?” I demand.
“It’s good, Lia,” he says, his voice breathy as if he might pass out from blood loss.
“Nothing is good about this.”
“Being your patient again,” he tells me, with that same smile. “That’s good.”
I turn my face away so he can’t see me smiling too. “Now isn’t a good time to flirt.”
He keeps it together as I apply pressure with both hands. The driver hands back his shirt once mine is saturated, and I keep going. The car drives fast, away from the city.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“My estate,” he says. “My fortress. I can’t believe I let this happen.”
“Who are you?” Mom whispers from beside me. “What is this?”
I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment. “It’s complicated.”