Hostile Ground (The Arsenal #7) - Cara Carnes Page 0,77
been taken away, just as she had. “My anger at you kept me going those two years I was there after you left.”
“I worried about you, wondered if you’d avoid punishments and survive without me.” He sighed heavily. “You were always the risk taker of us. You unleashed the fire.”
“And you tamed it,” Addy said. “It took me a few months to control my fury, hone it. Misha…” He didn’t need to know.
Kristof peered into her eyes. “Tell me.”
“Misha used your leaving against me,” Addy whispered. “I missed you so much it hurt. I swore to never…” She forced the admission back. He didn’t deserve her anger. “I kept making them after you left, but it was harder. It hurt too much at first, being there without you. The stars lost some of their sparkle, too.”
“I spent many nights staring up at them, wondering if you were in our spot in the woods. Hoping you were safe.” He touched the turtle. “There’s a hidden room in my house. I kept them all there and would look at them each day, remembering the nights you made the ones I recognized. Wondering what the others were like for the new ones I found.”
They weren’t ever as great as they’d been with him there. “Kristof.”
“That’s when the new Addy was born. The one who wouldn’t let anyone get close.” He grasped her waist, holding her against him. Awareness arced through her. “I would’ve come back for you, somehow. But some things happened that prevented it.”
“You told me. Your father hired Maksim to kill you. Then you worked your way back into his good graces.” She settled her hand atop Kristof’s. “I understand. I don’t blame you.”
“I didn’t share how I earned my way back in,” he said. “You should know. I won’t hide anything from you. Not any longer.”
Her stomach somersaulted as he leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. The soft contact cast heat throughout her body as she opened her mouth and swept her tongue along the seam of his mouth.
He severed the kiss and drew her into his arms. “It’s not a pretty story, but it’s yours to hear if you want.”
“Our past can’t hurt us anymore.” She wrapped her arms around him, unsure why they were holding one another.
All she knew was she didn’t want to let him go. She’d needed the human contact. No. She’d needed him. It felt as if she’d gotten a lost piece of herself back and she wasn’t ever going to let it go.
“I’m not sure how familiar you are with the wars and unrest within the gangs back then,” he said.
“I know there was a war for territory and control over the businesses and enterprises. The old guard versus a new order. Politics and new business opportunities fueled the inferno,” she said.
“That’s a decent summary. Father straddled the lines between the old ways and the new. He’d vacated Russia to avoid arrest because, even though he had bought off some officials, he didn’t have control over those making the decisions. Between the arrests and nightly wars and assassinations, it was a violent time with no end in sight.”
“And he pulled you into that. That’s why you were taken out of the camp?”
“Many of us were. Business leaders formerly controlled by either a gang or government were now thriving within their own right. The new economic system undermined everything Father was used to.”
“But he survived.”
“He did. He and those who did were smart. They ran their organizations from outside the country, let others take the fall when necessary. Everyone beneath them were pawns sacrificed if needed.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “I was his power play, or one of them.”
“How?”
“I was arrested, sent to prison where people like my father were once kings. Alliances and power were once gained by who you met there.”
Prison? Had that come up in Mary’s background searches? “How long?”
“Five years.” He sighed. “It’s where I established my underworld identity—one apart from my father’s syndicate. That’s where Kristof Lavrov was born. I formed alliances with the leaders who’d been arrested, with anyone who held some form of power. That’s also where The Collective found me.”
“So, you left prison firmly entrenched within the underground,” Addy said. “That must’ve been a hard haul.”
“No harder than what we’d endured in the camp,” Kristof said. “The hardest part was my inability to affiliate myself with father. His name would’ve protected me.”
“Was that another attempt at killing you?” Anger filled her voice.