Page 33 of Forbidden Forget-Me-Not

Chapter

Eleven

GORAN

Iwoke before the sun, the room still wrapped in that quiet gray light of dawn.

Kaylani was curled up against me, head resting on my chest, her arm wrapped around me as if I might disappear, our legs in a tangle. Her shallow breaths warmed my skin. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to wake her.

If anyone saw us like this, it would be a death sentence. For both of us.

My fingers swirled lightly over her shoulder, memorizing her softness. The dread I felt now for her safety mirrored something I had only felt once before.

Kaylani had only been twelve when she first met Alex in a chat room. A year later, he had convinced her that her family hated her and that he was the only one who could truly love her. He was the only one who understood her. Then, like the scum he was, he talked her into sending him nudes.

She was only thirteen for fucksake. It still made my blood boil.

Things escalated, and she realized Alex was not who he claimed to be. I could still remember the look on her face when she ran into Nathaniel’s bedroom, crying. We had been up late after one of Nathaniel’s college hockey games, drinking beer and complaining about shitty referee calls, when she burst in. She couldn’t even get the words out through her sobs.

Back then, I had thought of Kaylani like a sister. The look Nathaniel and I shared after he calmed her said everything.

This Alex…was a dead man.

Now, I was the one betraying Nathaniel.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as the guilt twisted deeper.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I had to talk to him before he heard it from someone else.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

My phone shattered the quiet. I glared at the stupid thing.

Kaylani shifted, her cheek pressing more firmly into my chest, her fingers curling as if she sensed the moment slipping away. I exhaled slowly and reached for the phone before the vibration woke her.

“Goran.”

“Sorry to call so early,” Dimitri said, his tone suggesting the complete opposite. “But I assumed you would be awake.”

I looked down at Kaylani. At the faint discoloration beneath her cheekbone. The urge to tell him to fuck off was so strong that it took me a second to rein in the rage before answering.

“Yes, sir. How can I help you?” I stared at the door, half expecting his men to kick it down.

He paused.

“Do you know where my daughter is?”

“Yes.”

Silence stretched. If there had been a clock on the wall, I would have heard the tick, tick, tick of the second hand.

Dimitri Mikhailov was used to people jumping. Begging. Handing him everything without being asked. I wasn’t one of them.

“And I presume she’s safe?”

“She is.”