Page 36 of Hunter's Trial
Russia. The word clatters through me. I walk across the studio to the closest chair and sink into it heavily. I can’t take Liz to Russia! I can’t just pick up my whole life and move out of the country! Never mind the legal red tape that I would have to navigate through in order to make that happen.
If I take the case, then it will be a clear implication that Nikolai is free game for all involved because he will have been abandoned by his last line of defense. It shouldn’t matter. His fate shouldn’t be in my hands or even a consideration. Liz should be my only priority. Damn him for becoming important to me. So swiftly he’s anchored himself in my heart and doesn’t have any intentions of leaving. I don’t want him to.
If Nikolai leaves… I’ll never see him again.
There has to be a solution. There’s always a choice to make. I’m strong enough to figure this out. I just need to come up with something, but nothing comes to mind. There’s nothing but an endless bleating panic that is making my head foggy and my vision blurry.
I can’t let Liz live in fear. We can’t stay trapped in this small house forever.
What the hell would I even do for work in Russia? My American law degree would be of absolutely no use at all!
I don’t notice that Nikolai is on his knees in front of me until his hands warm the tops of my thighs. Sadness and rage boil in equal measures inside of me. I’ve allowed this man in front of me to pull me further into his world and I want to be here. I don’t want to lose him.
“Everything will be okay.” Nikolai says with such confidence and assuredness that it’s hard not to immediately feel better by how sure he is. “One way or another, we will find a solution.”
If Nikolai goes Liz will be safer. The longer I’m involved with this man in front of me, the more danger she’s in. This secretly soft, handsome man that’s trying his best to comfort me when I know how unnatural that has to feel to him.
Nikolai is the only reason that I’ve been feeling safe.
He can’t protect me from Russia.
Liz can’t be safe if he stays.
The only way to ensure that everybody makes it out of this is for him to leave.
There’s no other way. Then why does my heart feel like it’s breaking?
“You already told me that you’re considered a rogue, Nikolai. There is nobody backing you. You’re too… you’re too vulnerable.” I say, my voice no louder than a whisper. I think if I try to speak any louder that I will cry. That’s the last thing that I need right now.
Nikolai’s shoulders round forward and he breaks eye contact with me. His head dips resolutely because he knows as well as I do that I’m right.
I cup his face in my hands and lift his painfully handsome face to look at me. Even as I say my next words, they feel like a lie. “Liz’s safety is the only thing that matters to me.”
Nikolai says nothing, just surges forward and kisses me. He wraps me up until I feel his warmth enveloping me wholly. It feels like he’s kissing me with his whole being, audience be damned. Even I forget where we are for a moment as I let myself surrender to his kiss. It’s a goodbye, I know that, but it doesn't feel like one.
When he lets me go I don’t even have time to utter a word before he turns heel and walks out of the studio.
“Wait,” I whisper. The word is small and weak as I plead for him to stay despite what I just said. It’s too soon. It’s too abrupt. He doesn’t have to go now. Does he?
My feet follow behind him too late. My every movement is sluggish as I fling open the door that he slammed shut behind him just seconds ago.
“Wait,” I try to speak again, but my voice is just as small as before.
But Nikolai is nowhere to be found.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
NIKOLAI
A few days later
I tried to leave.
I swear I did.
I sure as fuck don’t want to have anything happen to Liz or Kate. My staying here keeps them in jeopardy but I just can’t leave. Not like this. Something about it doesn’t sit right in my gut. I don’t get the feeling that I have unfinished business very often but I can’t shake this feeling.
Last night, instead of heading to Kate’s house like I’ve become used to, I was standing on an air strip. Black duffle bag with my meager present belongings slung over my shoulder as I stood in front of a private chartered plane that would have taken me back to Russia.