by Kresley Cole
My jaw dropped. His car pulled up and stopped across the street! How the hell did he find me? I'd hauled ass over more than a mile, skirting between buildings and over the quad.
He stepped out into the drizzle, scanning for a moment before his gaze settled on me. From his vantage, he could see into my second-story classroom. Could see me under bright fluorescent lights.
What must he be thinking about this? Would he bust in? Or would he hang out while I took my test?
He took out his phone and texted someone. A instant later, a chime sounded. I stilled.
That was my text chime. From my bag.
I opened the pack and fished it out. He'd slipped the phone in so he could track me! Maybe when I'd been looking out the window on the bus? Sneaky Russian!
He was giving me a brows-drawn look. I must like pain in all its forms, because I pulled up the message.
M Sevastyan: I don't know what you're doing. I hope you do well. I would never be unfaithful to you.
Damn him! Did I dare believe him? Maybe he'd booked Ivanna to get information on me. But why hadn't she called me back? I checked the rest of my messages. Several were from her number, not two hours after I'd ditched the phone. Mierda!
Despite her long red nails, she'd attempted to text: takked ti Sev!!1 U lnded hom!
Landed him? Even if he hadn't been with Ivanna, Sevastyan and I still weren't good. Not in any way. He'd been horrible to me. Because of him, I'd nearly lost my mind last night--and today.
I texted him back: you broke my heart yesterday
When he read the message, his head jerked up, disbelief in his expression. Without looking away from me, he replied: let. me. mend. it.
We stared at each other as my chest twisted and twisted.
"Hi, Cat, are you ready?" Ms. Gillespie said as she breezed into the room.
I turned from the window. "Ready as ever."
"You'll have forty-five minutes." She handed me the exam.
I settled into a desk. I could do this! Yet as I stared down at the page, the text swam before my eyes. Were my eyes watering again? I never cried in front of other people.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I-I'm fine." Get it together! "Ready to get started." My gaze slid to the window again. Sevastyan was still out there, watching me. Hey, no pressure. If he caused me to tank my grade, I would have to murder him.
I read, "Question number one," and I thought Rule number one. I was at the end of my odyssey. Would I choke at the finish line . . . ?
Forty-five minutes later, Ms. Gillespie said, "Time's up."
I gathered my stuff, then trudged up to her. I couldn't remember my answers. I wanted to go back over the test--and make sure I hadn't written MURDER over and over--but she looked expectantly at me.
"This is your last class, right?" When I nodded, she said, "I could grade the exam now, if you'd like."
"That'd be great." As she began to read my answers, I peered out the window. Sevastyan leaned against his car, phone at his ear.
Again, I wondered what I would have done if I'd heard him groan a woman's name--after overhearing him tell a friend, "I'm involved with another woman."
"This looks wonderful, Cat," Ms. Gillespie said, drawing my gaze. "An A. Congratulations on completing your courses!"
I'd finished.
I'd atoned and kept my promise.
One day, I would transfer all these credits to get my degree.
One day, it would say summa cum laude on it.
All this time, all this work, and I'd done it! When I'd first started college, I'd pictured myself celebrating with friends upon graduating. What would I do now? My eyes only wanted to look at Maxim. He'd said he loved me, but could I believe that? Should I give my flawed mobster another shot?
Maybe. Since he'd kind of ended up being the love of my life and all.
Our relationship wasn't pretty. The heavy lifting still needed to be done. But the foundation was there. "I really appreciate the makeup, Ms. Gillespie."
"I had something else I wanted to talk to you about. Last week, there was a man looking for you. But he wasn't from around here."
I gasped out, "What did you tell him?"
"Though I knew this was your last class, I told him you'd be here when the spring term started."
Next week. I still had time. "Why would you lie for me?"
"I didn't like the looks of him. It's none of my business, but he seemed . . . unwell."
Deranged. "Th-thank you so much, Ms. Gillespie."
I was crying before I made it down the hall. Edward had already been called down upon me. Ready to break every rule and swallow all my pride, I rang Sevastyan. "Ruso?"
"Katya, what's wrong?"
I hurried down the stairs. "I need"--my voice broke on a sob--"help."
"Anything. Name anything."
"I-I'm in trouble." When I reached the quad, I spotted him in the distance.
He'd already started across the street to come for me. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out." The skies opened up even more and rain poured. Winds gusted, palm fronds battering each other. Lightning jagged across the sky.
Comprehension struck with the intensity of the bolts above. He is in love with me. He'd said he wanted to protect me. If there were ever a time I would need him to . . . "The dream I had on the plane was a--"
An arm snaked around me. Searing pain exploded.
I stared down in horror. At the blade jutting from my chest.
Blackness.
CHAPTER 37
A guttural bellow woke me. Sevastyan's? My eyes crept open.
Edward had stabbed me. He'd actually done it.
I lay on the ground. The bastard had my head in his lap, his pale, haggard face above me. The knife hilt was rising and falling with my wheezing breaths. The pain . . . every inhalation was a new anguish. My fingers clawed at the grass, my legs uncontrollably writhing. Dots swarmed my vision.
I didn't want to die by his hand. I wanted out of his repulsive arms--
He tore the knife from my chest; I needed to scream, but I couldn't.
The ugly sounds were now mine.
"And who are those men, wife?" Edward put the knife to my throat, but he wasn't looking at me. His crazed eyes were focused on Sevastyan as he ran for me, Vasili in the distance behind him, gun raised.
"Stop where you are," Edward yelled over the rain, pressing the knife harder.
Maxim and Vasili went motionless.
"Your man needs to drop his gun," Edward called. "Then you both back away. Or I'll show you my wife's throat from the inside."
If Sevastyan was shocked to hear him call me wife, he didn't reveal it. He'd probably put so much together. "Release--her--now." He looked lethal, his big body tensed to attack. Rage blazed from him, his eyes filled with it. His wet hair whipped over his face in the wind, his fists clenched.
Edward had no idea who he was dealing with. "This doesn't concern you, stranger."
Maxim told Vasili something in Russian. Vasili put his gun down, backing from it by a step.
Never looking away from Sevastyan, Edward told me, "I didn't expect you to make friends, Ana-Lucia. You never did before, not in any of the six cities you hid from me. It would've made finding you so much easier. Not that I would ever have stopped. I will get revenge for Julia, and I'm prepared to die for it."
He'd been to all the places I'd lived? Between wet coughs, I bit out, "H-how?"
"I overheard your vow to your mother to finish your degree. For three years, I spent your money to comb every school in the country. You used family names--your first and only mistake." His chin and jaw were slack between words. "I hunted you here. When I suspected your bitch of a teacher was lying for you, I knew I had you trapped."
Maxim grated, "Get the fuck away from her, Edward. This is my last warning."
"You almost won, Ana-Lucia. You almost got the best of me. For someone like you to rob me of Julia . . . it seethes inside me every second of every day. Bec
ause of you, I had to bury her like trash in some fetid marsh--"
Maxim told Vasili something else in Russian, then started forward.
Edward jerked his head up. "What are you doing, stranger? I'll kill her if you come closer!"
Maxim kept coming, six foot four inches of towering, enraged Russian. "She'll bleed out if I don't."
"I didn't expect her to have friends, but I wasn't unprepared." Edward dropped the knife, pulling a gun from a holster under his coat. "Now you and the other man leave us, or I will shoot you down."
He was going to kill Maxim! "Don't." There was nothing I could do to stop him! Frustration welled inside me.
Maxim was fearless. "I know gunmen. You're not one."
Edward cocked his weapon. "I will shoot!" This close, he couldn't miss.
"And when you do, my man will retrieve his gun and take you out." Maxim was planning to get shot? For me? "There is no scenario where she doesn't live."
Need to help him. Gritting my teeth, I patted the ground for Edward's blade. So dizzy. Stay awake or Maxim dies. For all these years, I'd wanted to be brave. Now was my chance.
There! The knife. I curled my fingers around the hilt.
"Stop where you are!" Edward squinted one eye--to take the shot!
No, no, no! I lifted the knife. With the last of my strength, I screamed and struck, stabbing his arm. But the gun was going off! The deafening blast boomed beside my ear.
Maxim's shoulder jerked back. Edward yelled, "You bitch--"
Another shot followed? Edward was thrown back from me. My head slammed into the ground, and the angry sky spun.
A second later, Maksim pulled me into his arms. "Katya," he rasped. "I've got you."
CHAPTER 38
As the car started moving, I tried to wake up more, to make sure Maxim was okay and to tell him that I'd be fine.
He had one arm wrapped around my back, his other hand pressing down on my wound. "Stay with me, solnyshko! You need to stay awake!" He yelled at Vasili. Our speed increased till I felt like we were zooming.
"Maxim . . . you were shot."
"Flesh wound. You fouled his aim--or I'd be dead."
I pried open my eyes. "Is he?"
"He's taken care of. Please stay awake for me!" Maxim looked like he was about to lose it. "Talk to me. Tell me about this."
"I finally can."
"You've been running from Edward for three years?"
"Never stay in a place . . . longer than six months." My voice sounded so far away. "Rule number three."
"You were about to leave Miami for good?"
I tried to nod. "I clean houses. Ivanna's. But Shadwell . . . I had no money. Thought I saw Edward here. . . ."
"Keep talking. You thought you saw him, then what happened?"
"Scared. I could take Ivanna's date with some Russian . . . I figured one guy, one night. Couldn't be worse than Edward." I lost track of what I'd been saying. My lids felt so heavy.
"You told me I was your first. I refused to believe you. No, no, stay with me! Keep talking. When did you marry him?"
"Eighteen. After my mom died. H-he killed her." My voice broke. "I was so stupid. Got swindled out of everything."
"Swindled? What did he want from you?"
"He and Julia . . . wanted my beach. Planned to kill me too."
"Your beach?"
"Martinez Beach. Worth one fifty."
Sevastyan's brow furrowed. "They targeted you for a hundred and fifty thousand dollars?"
"Million."
I heard Vasili gasp from the front seat. "Is Vasili shot too?"
"No, he's surprised, as am I."
"It's in trust . . . couldn't sign it over." I needed to close my eyes for a second. "Edward's a lawyer. I signed everything else over to him. Idiota. . . ."
"No, you were so young. Keep talking. Wake up!"
My lids flashed wide.
"Eyes on me, baby. Then what happened?"
"He framed me. Couldn't go to police . . . I got a gun. Accidente. Shot Julia and blood was everywhere . . . He swore he'd kill me. I ran and ran. Probably going to jail."
"Nothing will ever happen to you again! Never. Look at me. Talk to me. About anything. What were you doing in the classroom?"
"Last exam. Maxim, I-I finished college today."
His brows drew together, as if I were breaking his heart. "Congratulations, little love. We will celebrate when you are better." He barked something to Vasili, who responded just as tersely. "You must've had a laugh when I asked you why you didn't go to school."
"I never lied. I bob. And weave."
"You're very good at that. But you're an atrocious liar."
"The worst," I agreed. "Anthony told me . . . you booked Ivanna."
"Fucking kill him. He likely said that to convince you to take the date you spoke of. I only called for her number to try to find out more information about Edward. I decided on the plane that I would discover who he was and pay him to give you to me."
"You did?"
"When I comprehended you were really leaving me yesterday, I let you--so I could track you and find the man I thought you loved."
"Sneaky."
"I knew he wouldn't possibly leave you for less than a billion, so I decided to give him that and make the better bargain."
"Are you telling me this . . . because I'm dying--"
"NO! You are not dying, solnyshko. We're almost at the hospital. I'm telling you this because I will always tell you everything in the future."
"I saw the blade . . . but my chest doesn't hurt at all."
Immediately, I perceived even more pressure from Maxim. He snapped at Vasili, then asked me, "With all that happened to you, how could you not scream at me when I accused you of entrapping me?"
"Rule number one. Don't tell . . . anybody anything. I wore a muzzle . . . nice to lose it."
"You were leaving last week, weren't you? You rescheduled your final. I forced you to stay in Miami, then drove you right to him. You would've told me, trusting me with this."
Numbness was stealing over my body, but I still felt his fingers biting into my arm as he said, "I could have taken care of him while you slept soundly last night."
I lifted my hand to his face, frowning when it fell limp. I'd streaked blood across his cheek. "I'm really dizzy."
His eyes were glinting. "I know, but you have to be strong, Katya. You cannot leave me." His body kept tensing up against mine, like the invisible fist was paying him a visit. "Though Katya's not your name. You're Ana-Lucia."
"Just Lucia."
His breath shuddered from his lungs. "Did you know that your name means . . . light?"
Light. Sun. I was his sun, and he was my Russian. He'd taken a bullet for me. He'd never booked Ivanna. He loved me.
Maxim rested his forehead against mine, rocking me in his arms. "I'm begging you not to leave me, Lucia."
Needed to tell him . . . "Te quiero tanto, Maxim. I love you so much."
Those black dots swarmed again. The last thing I heard was his anguished roar.
CHAPTER 39
Beeping sounds. The smell of disinfectant. Hushed tones.
In some hazy twilight, I knew I was in a hospital. I heard Maxim's voice, and others' as well.
Over what felt like days, conversations filtered through my mind to the beat of a heart monitor. I clung to threads.
In one, Aleks was angry with his brother: "We had to fucking hear about this from Vasili?" Aleks and Natalie had come here? They'd left their honeymoon?
In another, Natalie had asked Maxim, "Is your chest going to be okay?"
"Thanks to Lucia." He's out of danger, gracias a Dios. "That fuck actually had a bead on my forehead." And Maxim had kept charging forward??
In another thread, he told them about his fight with me, ending with: "This is all my fault. When I thought she would leave me for another . . . I imagined life without her, and I lost my fucking mind. Couldn't think or see reason." He asked Aleks, "Did you know
jealousy before you met Natalie?"
"Maks, I didn't know anything."
One time, I'd heard Maxim outside the room in a heated conversation with someone. Inside, Aleks had asked Natalie, "Why do these things keep happening to our family?"
"Oh, no, no. The Sevastyans do not get to shoulder this one. Cat--Lucia--never would've met Maksim if she hadn't already been in danger. And I jeopardized myself when I searched for my birth parents. When she pulls through, everything will be better."
Whenever Maxim was alone, he pleaded for me to wake up, promising me that I was safe. "You lost a lot of blood, but you've already started healing. When you wake up, you'll be as good as new. Please come back to me, Lucia. . . ."
He also took the blame for everything: "You told me 'don't do this,' but I kept hurting you. I drove you away." Now I sensed he was beside me, alone. I could feel his warmth, even before he took my hand in both of his.
He sat on the edge of my bed with a ragged exhalation. "Solnyshko, you must wake. It's been four days."
En serio? I'm here! I could hear him perfectly, but I couldn't speak. Or move. How frustrating! Why couldn't I clasp his hand?
Voice thick, he began talking, about everything and nothing. He described the weather and wondered aloud what kind of dog I would like. He talked about trips we would take to fill up my passport. He relayed how awful Vasili felt for his suspicions about me.
I wished I could tell Maxim that I would take the ugliest mutt I could find out of the pound, one with street cred, one no one else would bring home. I'd like to see Cuba and Russia. I wished I could tell him that I understood and appreciated Vasili's concern. I'd had no identity, could've been preying on Maxim. All the man had wanted to do was look out for "boss."
How could I fault him for that? When I wanted to as well?
Maxim continued, "How will you forgive me? Anything I could possibly do wrong, I did."
You took a bullet for me, Ruso!
"You can do anything now. You'll have your life back. You're so young, and you wanted your freedom. If you choose to leave me, how will I let you go? I couldn't before."
I wouldn't choose to! I needed to tell Maxim that we could work through this, that I was ready to do the heavy lifting in our relationship--but I couldn't even lift my lids.
"Will you please wake for me?" He raised my hand to press my palm against his face, as if he were starved for my touch. Stubble covered his jaw. Was his cheek damp? "Better things await you, Lucia."
