Broken Whispers (Perfectly Imperfect #2)

Page 25



19:52 Bianca:From now on, I expect a goodbye kiss too. Please keep that in mind, Mikhail.

After dinner and a quick bath, I tuck Lena into bed and cover her with her flowery blanket.

“Bianca, Bianca, can I have a story? Please, Bianca.”

I take my phone, browse for the online channel that has children’s stories, and lay down on the bed with her. God, she looks so much like Mikhail, I wonder if there is even one feature she got from her mother. Maybe her nose, it’s very tiny. I reach out to arrange her blanket better.

She turns to me. “Daddy likes you.”

I smile and brush her cheek. She can’t know that. Even I’m not sure what to think about Mikhail’s behavior.

“Daddy kissed you. And he held your hand. I think Daddy really, really likes you, Bianca. Daddy doesn’t like to touch people.”

My hand on Lena’s cheek freezes, my whole body going still.

“I like you, too, Bianca. Do you like me?”

I brush her cheek again and nod.

“Bianca, why can’t you speak? You hurt your mouth? My daddy hurt his eye. Noemi says my daddy has only one eye but she’s lying. Daddy has two eyes. I asked and he showed me. Noemi says my daddy is ugly. Is daddy ugly, Bianca?”

My breath catches. I place my hands on either side of Lena’s face, shake my head and mouth, “No.”

“Daddy says he is a little ugly. I asked him. But you are so pretty, Bianca. You are like a princess. I like your hair. Will my hair be long like yours?”

Lena switches to retelling what happened in day care, something about a toy truck one of the boys broke, making the other boy cry, but I find it hard to focus. There was one sentence Mikhail said last night. It slipped my mind at that moment because I was too absorbed with his kisses. Something about how it would be easier if I was not so pretty.

Oh God. I close my eyes and shake my head. The long sleeves, the distance he’s been keeping, all those hot and cold signals… Things make much more sense now.

“Sergei!” I hit the door with my palm the third time. “If you don’t open this door, I’m going to break it down.”

The alarm buzzes and the lock clicks. I grab the handle, open the door and step inside.

“Don’t you dare shoot at me!” I yell into the empty living room. “And rein in that beast of yours.”

“You can’t break a reinforced door that costs more than a car, dickhead.” I hear Sergei’s voice from the kitchen and head that way, then stop in my tracks at the threshold.

Sergei is sitting at the table in the middle of the kitchen, with a disassembled sniper rifle in front of him, polishing one of its parts and whistling. The whole surface of a six-seat table is piled with weapons of various kinds. Guns, knives, automatic and semiautomatic rifles, and God knows what else is there.

A few feet away, on a folded blanket next to a wall, lays a black dog the size of a small calf. It watches me for a few moments, then looks up at Sergei and goes back to sleep.

I take the phone from my pocket and call Roman.

“When and where is the meeting with the Mexicans?” I ask the moment he takes the call.

“They will be at Ural around eleven.”

I look at my watch. Half past eight. “It will probably be me going to the meeting. Let Pavel know.”

“Fuck! How is he?”

“I just got here. I’ll call you later.” I cut the call and take a seat across from Sergei.

“Pakhan sent you?” he asks without looking at me and continues to polish the rifle part.

“Yes. You weren’t answering your phone. He worries.” I nod toward the table. “Doing inventory?”

“Kind of. Can’t sleep.” He places the polished piece into a box that is sitting at his feet and contains the rest of the sniper rifle parts, and closes the lid.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.