Page 66 of Pretty Little Assassin

Nobody has ever looked at me like that.

That’s what does it. Not the blood. Not even her. That.

All at once, the tears come. Sobs that feel as if they’ve been building up in my chest for years.

My hands slip; my arms let go of my mother’s body. Zero is there to hold her for me.

I turn, grasping onto Viktor’s blood-soaked shirt and balling the damp fabric up in my fists as I press my face against his chest and cry.

This is something I have never allowed myself to do. This is something uncontrollable now. Even Alley Cat is stunned into silence.

“I’ve got you.”

Viktor’s words wrap around me, and so does his scent.

Everything that I’ve been fighting against nearly my entire adult life— all the walls that I’ve built up to keep out the biological response that I’ve been fighting—they all come crashing down now.

Here, with Viktor, I feel safe for the first time since my father died.

I start counting anyway, because my body doesn’t know what else to do with this. Fourteen seconds. Fifteen. It doesn’t burn off this time. I don’t want to talk about my feelings, or push him away from me, or even hold onto my mother’s lifeless body again.

All I want to do is stay right here. In Viktor Petrov’s arms, crying sloppily against his chest as he holds me.

Mate. My stepfather said it into a wire in front of two hundred people, and it might have been the one thing that bastard has ever called out honestly in his entire life. And somehow, it was easier to see from the outside. Maybe that’s because I didn’t want to be vulnerable. Now, that ship has sailed.

For a while, the only sound is my sobbing. I’m not sure how long I sit there against Viktor, inside his arms and his scent.

After I run out of tears, there is necessary movement.

“You guys need to make an exit. Clear path, back hallway, stairwell at the end of the hall. Nothing is moving in the building yet, but there will be.”

Donnie is right. If my stepfather has managed to get away, it won’t be long before more operatives come. We’re sitting ducks if we just stay here, grief or not.

Beside me, Zero lifts my mother from the floor. Even though she’s still in a dress and heels, Zero is as physically strong as any woman I’ve ever known.

Alley Cat remains unusually quiet. For once, she isn’t spinning around just to see how high she can make her tutu float around her. She’s not even muttering nonsense under her breath at the moment. Her wide eyes stare at me as if she wants to say something but doesn’t quite know whether her words will help or hurt.

They file past me. To the back wall. To the open service door.

Alley Cat looks at it for a long time, and she isn’t looking at it the way the rest of us are.

She stays quiet.

Viktor helps me to my feet. I don’t want to be weak. I am not weak. But when I stand up, the designer heels that have always felt as easy to maneuver in as bare feet feel wobbly.

Viktor reaches out to steady me, and before I can prove to us both that I’m “fine”, he scoops me up into his massive arms. Legs dangling over one arm, one heel drops to the floor. I don’t even fight him on it. I let my head rest against his chest and stare out at the room around us as if I’m looking at it from the outside.

Vacant.

He picks up my dropped shoe, then carries me out of the room. The air in the hallway changes at first breath. The metallic, overbearing smell of blood is gone. Replaced by something that smells like cleaning supplies and conditioned air.

“Still clear.”

Donnie guides our little squad through the building until we spill out onto the street behind the venue.

“Where will you take her?” Zero is back in overprotective mode.

“My place is still a safe house. I will keep her safe.”