My jaw clenches viciously tight, but I keep my expression neutral. The worry should be mine alone from now on. But her recounting of the capture reminds me of the fact that I never asked for her experience. I never bothered to find out what she went through. I pushed aside her trauma in favor of my own. I pretended that none of it touched her because it was easier than admitting that she was just as much of a victim as Polly was.
So many mistakes. I could drown in them. Hell, I am drowning in them.
“What did she say?”
“She was happy—I think…” Alyssa whispers. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment. “She was excited about being an aunt. Goddammit, I wish I remembered more. It’s just… the memory of those few days… They’re so murky. It’s like trying to remember a dream. I’d forgotten I told Polly that I was pregnant until just now.”
“Don’t put pressure on yourself. It’ll come when it’s ready to.”
Alyssa just shakes her head. “But… we don’t have that kind of time. Polly—”
“Polly is a Bugrov through and through. She’s a hell of a lot more capable than you think. She’ll be okay until I find her. And I will find her, Alyssa. I promise you that.”
Another heartbreaking tear rolls down her cheek. “If anything happens to her… I’ll never forgive myself.”
“You’ll have to, Alyssa,” I tell her gently. “You’ll have to forgive yourself for the sake of those babies you’re carrying. I know I have no right to ask this of you anymore… but I need you to trust me.” Her eyes have gone foggy and I wonder if she’s getting everything I’m saying. “Let me worry about getting Polly back and you focus on keeping those babies healthy and strong.”
She nods. “I-I’ll try.”
Her eyelids dip; her blood pressure recedes ever-so-slightly. Like her body is saying that all she needed from me was just a little bit of comfort. Just a little bit of kindness.
I’ve never been good at either, except for when it came to family. But it’s becoming more and more clear to me the longer I stay by her bedside, watching her sleep…
Alyssa is family now.
The little narushitel stole more than a package from my doorstep—she stole her way into a world I thought I’d walled off forever.
So yes, she’s family. She’s loved. She’s one of us. And now that I’ve made peace with that—late, but better that than never—I need to dig deep and focus all my energy and resources on getting Polly back.
Before the darkness swallows her forever.
21
ALYSSA
Uri looks at me differently now. The I-wish-I’d-never-laid-eyes-on-you look has officially been replaced. Now, his expression borders on you-are-not-to-lift-a-finger-without-my-permission-first.
Honestly, I’m not sure which is worse.
“What do you need?” he demands the moment I straighten up and reach behind me.
“I just want to adjust the pillow,” I say calmly.
“I can do that for you. Next time, just ask.”
I suppress a smile and let him adjust my pillow. He doesn’t place it exactly right but if I try to do it myself, he’s probably gonna burst a blood vessel. So I just shimmy in place until the pillow obeys.
“When can we go home?” He shoots me a quick glance that makes me feel immediately self-conscious, so I rephrase. “Er, what I mean is, when are we going back to your place?”
“The moment Emily clears you.”
“Where is she, by the way?” I ask. “Wasn’t she supposed to do her rounds an hour ago?”
“That’s the annoying thing about doctors,” Uri growls. “They have other patients.”
“I thought she was the official Bratva doctor. That doesn’t translate to exclusivity?”
He snorts. “You would think, but Emily’s always been a bleeding heart. She likes to volunteer here whenever she has the spare time. Which is currently pissing me the fuck off.”
“Uri,” I say, reaching out and catching his arm, “leave it. It’s not like I’m in pain or anything. Just bored.”
“Boredom is a kind of pain.” The corners of his mouth turn up slightly. It’s the closest thing to a smile I’ve seen from him in days. No—weeks. I’d almost forgotten just how handsome he is when he smiles. Those blue eyes seem to get so much bluer.
“Are you comfortable?”
It’s the third time he’s asked me that in the last hour alone. “Yes, I am. Very comfortable.”