Scarred by C M Wick & Christa Wick

Author:C M Wick & Christa Wick
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2019-10-11T04:00:00+00:00

15

Mikhael

Mid-Flight – Over the Atlantic

The boy sat near the rear of the small charter plane, a set of headphones on as he watched a movie on Reed's computer, Reed in the seat next to him.

Several rows forward, Alina perched at the edge of her seat, her gaze never leaving the boy for more than a few seconds. Grabbing two water bottles from the galley, Nazarov stepped over her legs and plopped down next to her by the window.

They had not spoken since he had all but strip searched her in the bathroom. She had made sure to eliminate any opportunities for him to be alone with her again, locking a door if she went into a room, staying in it until she heard Kane or Reed's voice.

Without a word, he offered her the water. She took it absently, tucked it against her seat.

Beneath the yellow-tinged overhead lights, she looked like shit that had dried out in the sun. She wasn't eating, wasn't drinking—all because of him and the boy.

At first, the ten-year old had thrown himself into her arms, welcoming her tight, sobbing hug with one of his own. Pure joy had lit her face as she embraced her son, the same joy Nazarov had seen stamped in a wide grin on her morning visits to the bakery.

Then all hell broke loose when Bogdan pleaded with her to get him away from the bad men who had killed his papa and Alina tried to explain that the men in the room—Kane and Mikhael and Reed—had saved his life.

The boy had struck her with closed fists, called her all the names he had learned from the foul devil who had masqueraded as his father to keep Alina trapped and tormented in the Rodchenko family.

"Reed is watching him." Mikhael's tone, meant to coax her into relaxing, set her spine more stiffly against him. "Please, Alina, you're making yourself sick."

She choked on a laugh but collapsed back against her seat. Reaching across to where she had tucked the water bottle, he broke the seal, unscrewed the cap and pressed the bottle into her palm.

Swallowing roughly, she wiped at her cheek. He could tell by the tremble in her lips that raw emotions were sweeping through her, but he hadn't seen her shed a single tear since she had begged into the camera for his life.

He didn't know what to say, but he had to get her talking. Her mind was poisoning her body.

"Bogdan thinks I'm the monster who killed his father."

Her head bobbed. She stopped staring at the backrest in front of her and glanced at his hands as he gripped his knees.

"Were you the one who shot through the wall?"

"Yeah," he rasped, realizing his hands had started to shake. "I don't think I could have if..."

"If you had known Bogdan was yours."

"Yes."

He looked at her face but she kept her gaze trained away from his. This was the first time she had acknowledged what he already knew. The boy was his, the result of that one night of stolen bliss in a house filled with hate.

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