Chapter 65

Hannah

“Are you alright?” I murmured, imagining how angry and frustrated Nikolai must be. I couldn’t believe Yuri had managed to escape.
Nikolai’s pale blue eyes caught mine. “Yeah,” he answered, his expression a mixture of aggravation and disbelief, which softened slightly as he looked at me.
“I’m so sorry, Nikolai, seriously,” I said earnestly. I couldn’t imagine going through everything Nikolai had then watching Yuri just get away. “Who was driving the car?” I asked. I guess Piter had lied about Yuri driving.
Nikolai blew out an irritated breath. “I don’t know. We were told he only had Piter.” Nikolai nodded his head in the direction of where Piter’s dead body had been. Ivan must have had him removed right after Nikolai’s father got away.
Shivering at the memory of Yuri putting a while in Piter’s head as he begged for his life, I merely nodded my head in understanding. Waves of anger and frustration were starting to emanate from Nikolai as he looked over to where his father’s car had been parked. His brows were pinched, and his fists were starting to clench. I knew he was going to want to channel it somewhere.
“Nikolai…”
“How’s Emmy?” he asked abruptly.
I grimaced. “Okay, I suppose. She hasn’t spoken a word or left Ivan’s side since she ran away from your dad. I don’t know what happened in that car, but Yuri was pretty fixated with Katya. I can only hope that kept less of his attention on her.”
Nikolai nodded, appearing a bit calmer and pulled me into another tight hug, his touch grounding me after what felt like endless hours of tension and hysteria. He pulled back and put both hands on my face, rubbing his thumb against my lower lip. “I was really fucking worried about you, Hannah. I’m sorry I got you, and your sister, into this fucked up shit.”
“I already told you, it’s not your fault,” I whispered, kissing his thumb. In an attempt to distract him, my tongue reached and lightly tasted the salty skin of his thumb. Fire leapt into his eyes at the contact.
“You better watch yourself, Hannah,” Nikolai warned, giving a quick glance to the front of the house. “I’m certain we have an audience right now, but if you keep doing that, I’m likely to not give a shit and throw you on the ground right here.”
“Hmm, I’m tempted to let you,” I responded flirtatiously, if untruthfully. I would never let him do that.
Nikolai smiled at my obvious lie, grabbed my face and pulled me in for a deep kiss, seeming to understand that I was trying to distract him. He pulled back, smiled at me again, drew me tightly to his side, and steered me towards the house.
As we walked in, we saw an array of what must have been Yuri’s former men who were now loyal to Drago. Drago stood snapping out orders and smoking like a chimney. I took a moment to look him over. Even with lines of tension bracketing his eyes, he couldn’t have been older than thirty. It was fascinating that someone so young could instill such respect and loyalty, even from men older than him, but I could understand it. Drago’s commanding presence dominated the space around him, and his sharp gray eyes seemed to miss nothing.
The men were talking to Ivan and Drago about what had happened. Katya stood beside Drago pressing a cloth against his bleeding bicep and giving him what sounded like a constant barrage of scolding for not taking care of his wound right away.
I glanced around, looking for Emmy, and found her sitting on the couch. What I found incredible was Ivan sitting on the arm of the couch with his back to Emmy, but his left hand was slightly behind him, allowing her to hold it. She was also leaning her head against his lower back. What the hell was going on? I needed to talk to her.
I turned to Nikolai. “I need to talk to Emmy, see if she’s alright. She wasn’t up for talking earlier, but now she looks like she’s calmed down.”
“That’s fine. I need to talk to Drago anyway.” With that he gave me a hard kiss on the mouth and walked over to where Drago and four other men were speaking rapid Russian.
I sat down next to Emmy who was leaning against Ivan with her eyes closed. Putting my hand on her leg, I murmured, “Emmy?”
Emmy’s head popped up and she turned to me. “Hannah,” she whispered, wrapping one arm around my shoulders to pull me into a tight hug. Her other hand appeared permanently attached to Ivan’s.
“I’m so sorry, Emmy. Sorry you got mixed up in all of this,” I whispered back as I hugged her tighter.
Emmy pulled back. “It’s not your fault, Hannah,” she responded, reassuringly patting my arm, which made me feel worse. She was attempting to comfort me when she was the one who had been kidnapped.
I stared at her, marveling at her strength. “I’m still sorry. Do you want to talk about what happened?” I asked lightly, in case the experience was too painful for her to go into.
Emmy sighed and tipped her head back against the couch. “He came and got me at school. He told me he had you in the car and I needed to leave with him or else you’d die. I didn’t even think to question him, I just went. Like an idiot,” she added self-deprecatingly.
“God, Emmy, don’t beat yourself up! You were dealing with the boss of the Russian mob! How were you supposed to know he wasn’t telling the truth? I would have done the same thing in your place.”
Emmy gave me a sad smile and tilted her head to the right, resting once again against Ivan’s lower back. I saw his hand almost imperceptibly tighten around hers. “I know, it’s just hard not to feel stupid in retrospect.”
I decided to ask the question I'd been dreading asking. “Did…did anything happen? In the car?”