Soldier Mine (Sons of War #2)(54)

“You seen Todd today?” he asks casually. “I have. Going to pick him up now.”

“Stay away from him, Jake!” I snap.

“Not until we make things right between us,” The Monster says calmly. “Look out the front door.”

My stomach twisting, I manage to move my stiff body to face the door.

The Monster is outside, his lean form bathed in the light of the sign near the door.

It’s him. He’s here. There’s no mistaking the face that’s haunted my dreams for four years.

“Fine,” I choke out the words. “Let’s finish this between you and me. Leave him out of it.”

“If I thought I could trust you, maybe.” He moves away from the doorway.

I squint and move closer, watching him get into a car. Seconds later, the taillights glow red, illuminating the new fallen snow.

“Race you home,” he says with a low laugh. “Whoever gets there first gets Todd.”

“You don’t know where we live.”

“Apartment B, four thirteen Grove Street.” He hangs up.

This can’t be happening. Frozen in place, I watch his taillights exit the diner’s parking lot.

From nightmare to fairytale to nightmare again. I can hardly breathe, and my only thoughts are on Todd and what happened the last time The Monster got a hold of my brother.

All but dropping the phone on the counter, I fish my cell out of my apron and dial Todd. He doesn’t answer, so I text him with fingers shaking so badly, the spell check can’t keep up with me. “Please be with Petr. Please be with Petr,” I whisper, struggling to maintain my composure while typing. I have no reason to think he is. It’s sheer desperation.

When I’m finished, I shove the door into the kitchen at full speed and dart to my locker. Whipping off the apron, I pause, eyes remaining on its crumbled form at the bottom of my locker.

Petr. If anyone can help me get Todd back, it’s Petr.

Without a second thought, I bend and yank out his card with trembling fingers and dial his number. There’s no answer, and I leave a message in such a breathless haste, I’m not sure what I say. I pull on snow boots, grab my coat, and then run.

Bursting out of the kitchen first and then the diner, I sprint, slipping and sliding in the snow and ice. The air soon grows too cold to breath and my vision blurred from tears and snow, but I push on, running with all my strength towards the apartment building seven blocks from the diner.

“Please be with … Petr. Please be … with Petr,” I repeat over and over. I slam to my knees more than once, stand up, and continue, unable to think of anything but the memory of Todd sobbing in The Monster’s arms with a knife at his throat. “Please … god … let him be with … Petr!”





Chapter Nineteen: Petr


Katya and I sit in the warm study where Baba spends a lot of his time either reading or managing business affairs. I’m nervous, but I don’t exactly know why. Sawyer is present, seated away from the three of us, listening quietly.

The four days with Claudia hit me like a shotgun blast. Not that I didn’t think she’d be the most incredible gift I’d ever be humbled enough to receive, but because she was so much more. It’s left me rattled, a little worried I’m missing something crucial without my mind in the right gear, and generally overwhelmed.

Four days, and I can’t stand the idea of so much as a weekend apart. Four days, and I’m questioning my sanity, because the emotions are far too intense when it comes to her. I prefer to act, not feel but I’m at a standstill. I thought her walls disappearing between us would make this easier, that sleeping with her would soothe the fire inside me instead of stoking it even higher.

My expectations and the reality are so different, I can’t quite fathom how to handle it. Unable to think straight, I do what I always have: I turn to my family. If Mikael were here, I’d be sitting with him.

Katya is smiling. “How long have you know her?” she asks.

“Almost two months.”

From the wicked spark in her eye, I know she’s dying to say something I probably don’t want to hear.

“I knew your mother three weeks,” Baba reminds me.

“Technically you kidnapped her,” I point out, familiar with the story of how my wealthy heiress of a mother fell into the presence of a rough-and-tumble KGB officer in Russia.

“Your mother exaggerated the story. She forced me to marry her. I was ready to let her go.”

I laugh, and Katya rolls her eyes. Our mother had a temper worse than Katya’s, and I suspect Baba is right about the story growing over time.

“She’s not a bitch, but that’s about all I know,” Katya says somewhat reluctantly. It’s a lot coming from her, and I understand I’ll never receive a rave recommendation from my territorial sister about any woman I’m serious about.

“Your judgment is always spot on about people, Petr,” Sawyer, the voice of reason, says from his spot observing. “What does your gut say?”

All of them are quiet, watching me. “That’s the issue. All I have is my gut telling me to pull a Baba and kidnap her,” I joke.

“It is not kidnapping if you end up married,” Baba replies defensively.

“Shouldn’t there be something else?” I press. “A little voice that tells me to think it over, to consider this, that and the other? I was with Brianna off and on for years, and I never got the green light from my gut.”