The Score (The Russian Guns Book 3) by Bethany-Kris

Author:Bethany-Kris [Bethany-Kris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bethany-Kris
Published: 2014-10-27T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Viviana braked the SUV, throwing it into park before slamming her hands back to the steering wheel. She was so overwhelmed. Torn apart from the inside out and wholly unsure of her surroundings. Never had she felt so totally useless and tattered. Like her soul and heart was a forgotten flag, ripped to shreds and flapping without protection in the tornado that had become her life.

The quiet, sleeping boy in his booster seat in the backseat was the only thing keeping Viviana from screaming her lungs out or punching her fists into a bloody mess. Instead, she balled her fisted hands to her eyes and panted through the tears that fell without permission.

Everything hurt. Everything ached.

Nothing in this poisoned mess was left untouched.

Absolutely nothing.

Why, Viviana wanted to ask. Why hadn’t Anton been more careful? Why had he done what he did? Why couldn’t she and Demyan have been enough for him?

How could you leave me alone like this?

Viviana didn’t have a single clue of how much time passed her by as she sat in the front seat and cried for all she was worth. Not while her heart broke all over again, and the hiccupping sobs turned to chattering teeth and hyperventilating breaths that wouldn’t stop catching.

When the sounds of her heartbreak threatened to wake Demyan in the back, Viviana managed to unlatch her seatbelt with shaking hands before she opened the SUV’s door. Cool sand slipped into the soles of her sandals as she stumbled out into the warm, May air. Less than three feet from the SUV where her son slept unknowing of his father’s absence and his mother’s breakdown, Viviana collapsed.

Echoing, wrenching sobs shook her shoulders. Viviana dug curling fists into the sand.

Shattered and lost—that’s what she was without Anton.

Empty.

Broken.

So hollow.

***

“Vine?”

Viviana barely registered her name being called over the squawking seagulls above or the lapping waves of water rushing under the pier. The safe haven that was Little Odessa for her had once again been the place she sought out for comfort. It held so many memories sweetened by easier, happier times. Things that left a hopeful sentiment resounding through her emotions instead of the bitterness of the tragedy she was currently suffocated with.

Resting on the beach, her silk dress was surely ruined by the damp sand, her hair was already beginning to frizz and wave from the wet air, but she didn’t care. Instead, Viviana watched Demyan, so close to his third birthday, trip through the sand as he watched the water and birds.

The childish laughter coming from Viviana’s son was the only thing keeping her sane.

A form dropped beside her on the beach. She didn’t give Ivan any acknowledgement as he stared down the shore blankly. Gia, Ivan’s youngest daughter, with her summer dress swirling around her bare ankles, skipped past her father. She was only eleven months older than Demyan.

“They’ve got him placed back at Rikers.”

Viviana felt the bile rise into her throat. Anton hated being confined; couldn’t stand to sit still. He hadn’t been locked up more than a few days the last time before they got him out on bail.

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