8. Alexei #2
I expect Maggie to stare out the window.
Instead, she folds her arms across herself and lowers her head, retreating inward in a way that twists at something deep inside me.
The woman beside me has spent days holding everyone else together.
Ivy. Jules. The shelter volunteers. The animals.
Even me. Now that there’s no one left demanding her attention, she finally looks like someone carrying too much.
Before I can reconsider it, I move closer. Not enough to crowd her, just enough that she knows I'm there.
Maggie's hazel-green eyes lift and meet mine. The look remains between us for a few heartbeats before she glances away again, but she doesn't create distance between us. She remains where she is, and I find myself relieved.
She rubs her eyes with the heel of her hands. “I hate this.”
The words are quiet enough that I almost miss them.
I turn toward her. “Which part?”
She gives a short, humorless laugh. “Pick one.”
Her eyes focus on her hands. “What do we do now?”
The question takes me by surprise. Not because I don't have an answer, but because it isn't really a question. It's the first crack I've seen. The apartment is only part of it. I can see that much in the way she stares at her hands instead of looking at me.
“The apartment. The shelter. Ivy. Me livin’ at your house.” She releases a tired breath. “Every time I think I've figured out what the next few days look like, somethin’ else happens.”
I watch her struggle to put words around something that doesn't have an easy answer.
Maggie likes plans. She likes schedules and routines. She runs an animal shelter where chaos waits around every corner, and somehow she keeps it all moving because somebody has to. The last few weeks have taken every bit of certainty she had and torn it apart piece by piece.
“We handle the next thing in front of us,” I tell her.
She narrows her eyes. “That's your answer?”
“Yes.”
She turns toward me fully now. “It sounds suspiciously like somethin’ a man says when he doesn't actually have a plan.”
I find myself fighting a smile. “I always have a plan.”
“That's somehow worse.”
A quiet laugh leaves me before I can stop it. The sound earns a look of surprise from Maggie, as though she didn't expect it any more than I did.
The amusement fades from her face just enough for the exhaustion underneath to show again.
“You're tired.”
Her head turns. “That's a real impressive observation.”
“You looked exhausted an hour ago. Now you look ready to fall asleep sitting up.”
She gives me a tight smile. “You always this charmin’?”
“Only with you.” The corner of my mouth lifts. I reach across the space between us and take her hand.
She looks down at our joined fingers before focusing on me again.
“Maggie.” The teasing disappears completely. “You don't need to spend tonight worrying about what happens tomorrow.”
Her eyebrows pinch together. “I don’t?”
“No.” My thumb brushes across her knuckles. “I don't care who started this. I don't care how long they've been planning it. Whoever is behind it is eventually going to learn the same thing everyone else learns.”
She gives me a skeptical look. “What's that?”
I lift my free hand and tilt her chin toward me. “That coming after you is a mistake.”
Maggie freezes and looks at me. Then the tension begins to leave her shoulders.
“I trust you,” she whispers.
I tighten my hold on her hand. “You should.”
I lean forward and brush my mouth against hers. The kiss is gentle and light, more promise than passion.
Maggie's fingers tighten around mine before she moves closer and rests her head against my shoulder.
I slide my arm around her and hold her there. Her eyes close soon after.
The vibration of my phone breaks the moment.
Roman.
Maggie lifts her head as I answer.
“Give me good news,” I say.
Roman gets straight to the point. “We picked up one of Enzo’s surveillance guys in Savannah. He’s been delivered to you.”
“Has he started talking?” I ask.
“Not yet,” Roman says. “But he will.”
I watch the road ahead. “He'll have to.”
“And Enzo?”
“Still in hiding,” Roman answers.
A pause follows before something changes in Roman's voice. The difference is subtle, but I hear it. “I found something.”
The hairs at the back of my neck rise. “What?”
“It concerns Clara.”
The name changes the air inside the vehicle even after all these years. I stare out the side window. “Tell me.”
“Not over the phone.”
My jaw clenches. “Roman.”
“I think we're finally getting close,” he says. “I’ll be in touch.”
He ends the call.
When I lower the phone, Maggie is watching me. She doesn't look curious about the conversation. She looks worried.
“You okay?” she asks hesitantly.
Most people would ask what Roman found. Maggie asks if I'm okay. I look at her, taking in the worry she hasn't bothered to hide. Then I brush a kiss against the top of her head.
A faint flush rises into her cheeks. Slowly, she leans back against my shoulder, and I slide my arm around her again. Neither of us says anything after that.
The rest of the drive passes quickly, and the SUV rolls to a stop in front of the house.
Maggie stays beside me all the way through the front door.
The exhaustion from the apartment still lingers on her face, but Ivy either doesn't notice or doesn't care.
The sight of Maggie sends her racing across the foyer, both arms wrapping around her waist.
The sound that leaves Maggie is half laugh, half surprise. “Easy there, sugar.”
“You were gone forever,” Ivy complains, squeezing her tighter.
“I was gone a couple hours.”
“It felt like forever.”
Ivy squeezes harder. Maggie wraps both arms around her and closes her eyes. I watch Ivy cling to her and struggle to remember what this place felt like before she arrived.
Mrs. Bennett appears from the hallway carrying a basket of folded laundry.
“Good Lord, child. Let the woman breathe.”
“No.”
“That wasn't a suggestion,” Mrs. Bennett says.
Maggie laughs. “I'm okay with the no.”
Mrs. Bennett smiles. “You're both impossible.”
Ivy releases Maggie and runs toward me.
“Hi, Papa.”
“Hello, solnyshko.”
She wraps her arms around my waist. I lift her into my arms, brush a kiss against her cheek, and hold her for a moment before setting her back on her feet.
“I missed you,” she says.
“I missed you too.”
Winston chooses that moment to appear from nowhere and begin dancing around Maggie's feet. Daisy follows at a slower pace while Ivy launches into a rapid explanation involving crayons, a missing sock, and a disagreement over cartoons.
The details hardly matter. Maggie listens as though each one is the most important thing she's heard all day.
I find myself watching them long after Luka steps to my side.
“He's awake,” Luka says, keeping his voice low.
My attention remains on Maggie. She looks up as though she feels me watching, and our eyes meet across the foyer. The smile she gives me is small and worn around the edges, but it's real.
Ivy takes her hand and tugs her toward the living room. I watch them disappear around the corner before focusing on Luka.
“Stay with them.”
Luka nods once. “Of course.”
The guest house sits near the rear edge of the property beneath a canopy of old oaks. Roman insisted on building it years ago for privacy. Tonight, privacy isn't the purpose. Tonight, it holds answers, or at least the possibility of them.
Viktor falls into step beside me as we cross the grounds. The main house glows warmly behind us, and my mind goes back to the foyer. Toward Maggie, the way she leaned against me in the SUV, and the look on her face when she admitted she hated what had happened to her apartment.