“What? Adrian! Oh my God, you are out of your mind! How could you do–”
“I didn’t hurt her, Nadia. I mean, I only planned to make Poval think she was in danger, so he’d come and rescue her, but, ah…”
“You came to your senses.”
A whisper of relief hits me at her understanding. “Yes. Exactly.”
“Where is she?” Nadia asks. “Is she with you?”
Fresh pain seeps in at me from all sides. “No. I returned her to her father.”
“Is she safe with him?”
A cold slithery snake moves through my stomach. Is she?
She’s his daughter, so of course she is. Yet memories of all the things she said about him creep back in, especially the last one–where she broke down with the realization that he’d probably killed her mother.
Is she safe with him?
The question rattles around in my head, and with every second that passes, awareness creeps over me. What if I left her in the lion’s den? I thought I was doing her a favor, I thought I was returning her to safety. But ultimately, she’s not safe with that man. Not emotionally. And maybe not even physically. After all, she suspects he killed her mother.
Maybe I didn’t do her any favors by letting him go free.
“I don’t know,” I manage to say to Nadia. My voice sounds choked. “Fuck, I hope so.”
“You care about this woman, don’t you?”
I don’t know how Nadia was able to read that into my words. But I admit it. “Yes.”
And because it’s Nadia, who’s shown so much vulnerability in the last year just telling her stories, I’m willing to say to her what I barely have admitted to myself. “I think I fell in love.”
“You think, or you know?”
“I love her, Nadia. And I fucked it up.”
“Adrian, you need to go back and fight for her,” Nadia says with total clarity. In fact, she sounds stronger and more sure of herself than I’ve heard her in years. Like this is the one thing she knows about. I’m inclined to believe her. I sure as hell know that trusting my own plan hasn’t turned out well.
“Yeah. I should…I should just make sure.”
“Make it right, Adrian.”
“I thought I was,” I lament as I shove my feet back in my boots. “But it feels all wrong.”
“You’ll figure it out. Don’t come home until you’re sure, okay? I’m doing fine here. I have a routine and …friends.”
My chest tightens. It’s the first time she’s called the people in our building friends, and I’m so grateful she feels that way.
“Okay, I’ll call you later.”
“Tell her you love her,” Nadia calls out as I’m hanging up.
I don’t know if she wants that. But I do need to know she’s okay. I put a location tracking app on her phone before I gave it back. I pull it up now. She’s back at the Radisson. Maybe I’ll head over there–just to see that everything’s fine. I’m sure it is. Poval’s her father, after all. He wouldn’t hurt her. Why would he?
Yet, something has me running down the stairs instead of using the elevator. I’m already calling up a ride share app on my phone, but when I get outside, I find a taxi dropping someone off from the airport, and I jump in.
“Take me to the Radisson Blu Astrid,” I tell him.
The taxi driver grunts in acknowledgement and moves swiftly through the quiet, dark streets. I jump out at the hotel. The doorman recognizes me and holds open the door.
Inside, I take the elevator up, knowing how stupid this is. If I’m seen here by Poval or any of his men, they will kill me. I don’t even have a weapon–I dropped the gun in a garbage can on my way to the airport because I knew I couldn’t get it through security.
And yet I can’t turn back.
Every time I think of Kat, panic rises up in my throat.
I step off the elevator, all my senses alert. No one is in the hallway. I creep toward the room. There’s probably no one here. Maybe they’ve left the country already. Poval probably has a private plane.
And then I hear a cry of pain from our room, and I rush forward.
Kat!
I still have the keycard to the room since I never checked out, and I yank it out of my back pocket now and hold it to the keylock.
The pad flashes a green light, and I throw the door open wide. Kat’s on her knees, her face bruised and bloody. Her father has her by her hair.
His focus jerks to mine.
I have surprise on my side, and I use it, rushing at and tackling Poval to the ground. He shouts something in his native tongue. I bludgeon his face with my fist, breaking his nose, knocking in teeth.
I hear Kat’s voice, and it fuels my fury. I can’t make out what she’s saying, only know that he fucking hurt her. He deserves to die.
He fights me, but he’s short, older and has a big paunchy gut. He’s clearly out of shape.
“You like to hurt women?” I hiss.
“He has a gun!” Kat cries out. I battle him for it, slamming his wrist back against the floor until it shakes free.
She picks it up and points it at his head.
Poval barks something at Kat in Ukrainian, and her lip lifts in a sneer.
“Where’s. My. Mother?” I don’t even recognize her voice–it carries so much venom. Gone is the wild, rambunctious girl I met a few short days ago. The one who couldn’t be dented by me or anyone else in her path.
This one is owning her pain. Embracing it. And using it to fuel a firestorm.