In the Beginning (Volkov Bratva #1)(77)

Patting her hand, he gave her a grim smile before leaving.





Chapter twenty-Five:


Righteous Anger


Lauren stood in the doorway, watching Thomas sleep, the bandages wrapped tightly around his head making the guilt she carried greater. This, all of it, was her fault. If she hadn’t been dating Mishca, if she hadn’t went to that Christmas dinner when her mother warned her that it might have been too soon, they would be in this.

Was everyone in danger or was it just her and Ross? Even though she didn’t want to believe, it seemed to coincidental that they were attacked not too long after Ross started investigating them and Mishca learned of her connection to law enforcement.

She couldn’t help but wonder whether this was a message or if they were meant to die that night. It didn’t seem like the assault was supposed to end that soon and if not for the man happening to be coming out of his apartment, they might not have lived to see another morning.

Lauren didn’t want to risk waking him, instead staying out of the way as nurses and doctors came to monitor his condition. At least, from what she had been told, the swelling in his brain had gone down, but he still hadn’t woken up, even after three days.

“Lauren!” Susan came rushing towards her with open arms. “Oh sweetie, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, mom.” But she was glad that Susan was here.

Despite her words, Susan looked over every inch of her—she couldn’t blame her—and by the time she was finished, the ewer both in tears.

“Jesus, what happened?”

Lauren recounted everything that happened that night, sparing her the grisly details of everything she felt. She tried to run through it as quickly as possible, not wanting to linger on any one part.

“I’m just glad you’re alright. How’s Thomas?”

She shook her head, glancing back at Ross’ hospital bed. “He’s out of surgery, but hasn’t woken up yet. He’s going to be okay, right? I mean, he was shot once and barely blinked.”

That got a smile out of Susan. “I’m sure he did more than that. And yes, I’m sure he’ll be fine, but what is going on with you, Lauren? Thomas told me you were looking into your father’s case. Do you want to talk about it?”

Lauren looked away, not sure how to answer. “I…thought it would help give me closure.”

“You should know by now that we have the same tells. Lauren, what aren’t you telling me?”

She couldn’t tell her. Her actions had already gotten someone she loved attacked, she couldn’t take another risk like that, but she couldn’t lie.

“Mom, during Christmas at the Volkov’s—”

Her phone rang, an unrecognizable number with a New York area code. Thanking her good fortune, she answered on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Lauren? This is Detective Rodriguez with the NYPD.”

“I know who you are.”

“We would like if you could come down to the precinct to answer a few more questions.”

“Right, sure. I’ll be there.”

She hung up, dropping the phone back in her bag. “I’ve got to get down to the precinct, mom.”

Susan looked concerned. “Is everything alright?”

“Yea,” she said shaking her head. “Just a few more questions. I’ll come back after.”

“But, Lauren—wait what were you going to say about Mishca?”

Lauren looked back at her mom, seeing the pleading in her eyes and the fear that she was trying desperately to hide. That’s when she made the decision.

“It’s nothing, mom. We’ll talk later.”

***

Susan stayed at Thomas’ side, alternating between rearranging the flowers she’d brought, checking her phone for any messages from Lauren, and sitting restlessly in the uncomfortable seat at his bedside.

But her thoughts were in chaos because she knew that the secrets of the past were about to be revealed, and the careful precautions that had been put in place to ensure her and Lauren’s safety were already crumbling. She could never forget the day she learned the truth…

Susan stared at her husband of ten years, wondering what to say, how to broach the subject that she had feared bringing up for the last two nights. Her first instinct was to ignore it—as she had been doing—but it seemed the more she tried to forget about it, the more it weighed on her mind.

Cameron sat at the end of the bed, his hands folded in his lap as he watched her. There were bags beneath his eyes, the whites of his eyes slightly pink. Maybe if she had been a better wife, she might have noticed the strain he was under, but she excused it because of his lengthy hours at the hospital.

“What do you do for them?” She asked, wincing as she rubbed her swollen belly, feeling the baby kick.

For years she had wanted to have a baby, ready to start a family with the man she loved. Now, with what they were facing, with the knowledge that she knew, she was afraid of the world that she was bringing her child into.

Cameron sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Their son, Mishca. I work as his private physician.”

“But why? They’re criminals. Why don’t you tell them you don’t want to?”

“It’s not that simple,” he said softly.