Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4)(143)

She is beautiful, isn’t she? But I don’t see the changes as much because I’m with her every day. The doctor said she’s grown more than two inches and gained almost three pounds since she was born.

Reminded of that incredible day, he’d slid his hand down her thigh, traveling the length of her calf until he reached her ankle. Going beneath the cuff of her jeans, holding her eyes the entire time, he ran the tips of his fingers over the fine gold chain he could feel.

You are still wearing it?

I’ll always wear it, she’d promised in a whisper.

But she hadn’t, he thought now as a chill swept over him despite the sun shining overhead. She hadn’t been wearing the gift when she’d been killed. Their daughter wore it now and had ever since her wedding day when Vasily had presented it for the second time, to the second most important female ever to enter his life.

He gently pushed his memories back into the gilded cage he kept them in before the most painful one could surface; the three black days he’d spent alone, going through Kathryn and Eva’s house the day after Eva had left Seattle to return to school after the funeral. That’s when he’d found the anklet, hanging off a small hook Kathryn had screwed into the bedpost of her double bed.

The same bed they’d conceived Eva in.

He reached up and swiped at the light sheen of perspiration he could feel breaking out on his forehead.

“Let me take you home,” Dmitri requested in that careful tone he’d been using since Vasily had woken in the infirmary. “We can come back in a couple of days when you’re better able to move around.”

He put a hand out and squeezed his boy’s forearm before slowly making his way up the walk. “I’ll be fine.” A crude Russian curse followed him, and Vasily couldn’t help but appreciate the sentiment.

He wasn’t sure why he’d come to the house Sergei had shared with his family except to say he couldn’t get the place out of his head. He’d even dreamed of it. Had a nightmare, actually, where he’d careened off the walls, running from room to room as he’d bled to death, searching for something he knew he would not survive without.

A breath stealing panic had jarred him awake this morning. He’d opened his eyes to see what was essentially his life across the way; Alek sitting in a chair with his daughter in his arms, and Eva, her hand absently stroking through the baby’s hair, her belly protruding in a beautiful swell as she stood next to her cousin talking in quiet tones. The four remaining Tarasovs.

He looked on ahead and dragged his ass a few more feet.

Reaching the front door, he ground his teeth together as his injuries protested his move to withdraw a single key from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. What had he been searching for in the dream? Probably Eva. Maybe one of his boys. Or maybe even his grandson who couldn’t get here soon enough.

He closed down that avenue of thought, too. Couldn’t go there. He couldn’t think of what he’d almost missed out on. If not for Yuri, Micha, and Tegan, he’d be dead, and his family would have had to suffer the agony of burying him only days after saying goodbye to Markus. A lump rose in his throat as he remembered the brilliant glow of love he’d seen in all those devastated stares surrounding him as he’d laid there bleeding out. He might have sacrificed himself for Alek because deep down he’d been ready to pack it in. But they hadn’t been ready to let him.

He coughed, then cursed at the paralyzing shock that blasted through his chest. And continuing to curse his newfound weakness, he unlocked and allowed Dmitri to open the door and enter the house first. When he received a nod, he followed. Despite not having been here in months, the smell of the place was familiar. It was closed up but not musty because Sergei had killed here less than two weeks ago. It was loneliness and misery. This house reeked of it.

They slowly made their way through the familiar rooms on the main floor, and the not so familiar ones on the second level. In the master bedroom, he sat on the neatly made bed. Dmitri most likely thought he was reliving some memory or other, but really, he just needed the rest.

When they got back to the hallway that would lead them out, his breathing was labored, and he was damp with sweat. This had been a pointless exercise, he realized as he paused before the door that would bring them to the basement. He latched onto the handle and fought his need to lean on the wall.

“We’ll take a quick look down here, then go,” he said quietly because he couldn’t get enough breath to make his voice any louder than just-above-a-whisper.

“You brought the pills. Take one.”

He gave his gruff caretaker a glare, but it didn’t last when he saw a bottle of water materialize from the inside of Dmitri’s jacket. When Vasily raised a brow and fought a smile, Dmitri shrugged.