Gilded Tears: A Russian Mafia Romance (Kovalyov Bratva Book 2) by Nicole Fox (e book free reading .txt) 📕

to one of the common areas to play cards with some of the other women.

I head to my dorm. I change Phoenix, feed him again, and settle into my lower bunk. Just before I sleep, I count out the money I’ve hidden in my bra.

I’ve got four hundred and sixty-seven dollars. I’ve also got my wedding ring, but I have no intention of selling it if I can avoid it.

I put the small bundle of cash, as well as the ring, back into my bra and secure everything so that they’ll be protected in case I start lactating. Then, unable to keep my eyes open any longer, I fall asleep with my arm wrapped protectively around Phoenix.

I’m so tired that it’s the first time my sleep isn’t disturbed. It’s a hard sleep, totally dreamless, just black and deep and so fucking welcome.

At least, it is—until I stir in the early hours of the morning and notice something.

Or rather, the lack of something. A glaring absence.

My sleep-addled brain tries to figure out what’s wrong.

What am I missing?

The answer comes at the same time the panic sets in.

Where is my son?

I can’t feel his little form beside me. I can’t feel his warmth against my cheek. It’s dark, so I gently pat the space next to me trying to determine if he’s rolled away from me somehow.

But he hasn’t.

He’s not in bed with me at all.

Panic so acute stabs through me like a spear. I get up so fast I knock my head against the top bunk.

I hear a low grunt that I recognize as Tonya rustling above me, but she murmurs in sleep and doesn’t wake.

I stumble out of bed and look around in desperation—when I hear humming.

I freeze as I catch sight of Nancy’s wild hair. She’s sitting by the window, thin dredges of moonlight creating a weird crisscross pattern against her face.

I glance down at the small bundle in her arms.

Phoenix.

My first instinct is to rush over there and rip Phoenix from her arms, but I hesitate, terrified of how she might react and what she might do to my baby if I don’t succeed in taking him from her on the first try.

I walk over slowly but she doesn’t look up at me. Her eyes are fixed on Phoenix.

He’s awake, I realize. His big, beautiful eyes are fixed on her with mild interest.

He’s playing with one of her long curls with his small fist. He pulls at it, but Nancy doesn’t seem to mind.

“There’s my handsome boy,” she coos at him.

“Nancy,” I say, but my voice trembles just a little. “Nancy, can you give Phoenix back to me, please?”

The moonlight is throwing all the scars on her arms into high relief. The effect is alarming and somehow threatening at the same time.

“Pretty baby,” Nancy coos without addressing me.

She hasn’t even acknowledged my presence yet.

“Nancy, please,” I say. “He might be hungry.”

“He’s not,” she snaps impatiently. “Look how happy he is with me.”

Goosebumps prickle at my skin. I move closer slowly.

“There, there, pretty boy,” she says, running her fingers along his cheek the way she’s seen me do countless times.

I want to grab her head and bash it into the wall and the urge is so strong that it takes me by surprise.

I don’t shy away from the violence.

Instead, my body welcomes it. Craves it, even.

Is this what Artem feels when he fights?

Maybe that is the difference.

You just need to find the right reason to commit to a fight.

“I had a baby once, just like this one,” Nancy muses.

Her voice carries in the silence. I inch a little closer. I glance at my baby, and I’m relieved to see that Phoenix looks fine. It doesn’t look like he’s been hurt in any way.

I don’t encourage Nancy to continue with her story, but she does anyway.

“He was a beautiful baby, my boy,” Nancy says, still looking down longingly at Phoenix. “Smart fella, too. I used to lock my room door, but he knew where I kept my keys.”

A step closer. I try not to breathe too loud. To jar her from this awful memory. My skin crawls with every inch of distance I close.

“He got in one day and found my stash,” she goes on, and with every word, I get more sacred, more desperate to get Phoenix out of her arms. “He was blue when I found him but I tried to save him anyway.”

“Negligence,” Nancy says. “‘Criminal negligence,’ they accused me of. But how…? I locked my fucking door. It was locked! He was just… he was too smart. He was such a beautiful boy. So smart.”

Phoenix senses the shift in the air. The growing tension. The approaching violence.

He gives a sharp cry and raises one hand in a small fist. My heart jumps erratically.

“Nancy,” I say quietly. “He needs to be fed.”

For the first time, she looks up at me. “You were fast asleep and he was whining,” she reprimands. “You didn’t even notice! He could have rolled off the bed and fallen. He could have been kidnapped. That would be negligence, too… right? And then you’d lose your baby.”

My heart is thundering so hard that I almost don’t hear that last part, the accusation she flings at me with wide eyes that are desperate to be absolved.

“Nancy,” I say, feeling tears well up. “Please just hand him over.”

She stands slowly.

I freeze.

Time stands still.

But then she hands Phoenix to me and I snatch him away as relief swarms my body and calms my thumping heart.

She walks dreamily back to her bunk on the other side of the room while I check to make sure Phoenix really is okay. He gurgles in my arms and I feel my tears slip free.

It’s still dark outside, so I get back into my bunk.

But I don’t sleep.

I know that as long as I’m in this shelter, I will never sleep again.

I’m done waiting. Next week is too far off and I can’t wait that long.

My body will deal. What I can’t