God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2) by Rina Kent

27





LIA





The thing about demons is that they’re there for life.

Every time I think I’ve left them in the twisted past where they belong, they rear their ugly heads, bent on reminding me that they exist.

That they’re here to stay.

That no matter how much I attempt to focus on my hard-earned happiness, it might be just a phase.

It’s been so many years, but the memories are as vivid as if it were last night’s dinner.

They creak and roar and splash my mind with images of pain, weakness, and shame.

Lots of shame and regrets that I can’t contain.

I pace the length of the entrance, back and forth, back and forth, like a headless chicken.

I can hear the low sound of my snapping nerves, can feel the tightness in my stomach and the chaos bashing against my skull.

On and on, it mounts and shifts until I want to scream.

It doesn’t help that Adrian had an urgent meeting and has been gone with Kolya for most of the night and morning.

Thankfully, Yan has returned. He’s currently leaning back in a chair, sipping on a glass of vodka, and watching me with an unchanged expression.

“You’re going to give yourself vertigo if you keep going at that pace,” he comments dryly.

“I shouldn’t have let her go back. Maybe we can catch them if we follow them now, and I can bring her home and tuck her close to my chest where no one can find her?”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“That’s what you said when she was kidnapped as a child.”

“She wasn’t kidnapped, since we saved her before they could get her.”

“But she was almost kidnapped.”

“You sound like Boss when he excuses his overbearing behavior. ‘I’m shielding her too much because they’d use her against me,’” he mimics Adrian’s tone.

“It’s true, though.”

“Maybe, but you two need to know that she’s no longer a little kid. Besides, she’s with Jer. No way will he let anyone hurt her.”

“What if he’s also hurt?” I come to a stop, my breathing becoming so heavy, it echoes around us. “What if I lose both of them?”

He stands up and clutches me by the shoulders. “You’re overthinking. That’s paranoia and anxiety speaking, and those two are irrational fuckers that we hate. Would definitely murder the fuck out of them, decapitation style, if we met them in an alley… Now, inhale. Exhale.”

I release a long whoosh, sensing the dissipation of the black cloud that’s been swirling around my head.

A small smile pulls on my lips. “Thanks, Yan. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Probably driven yourself to the point of no return.” He lowers his head to stare me in the eyes. “Do you feel better?”

“A little.”

“A little is a start.”

We remain like that for a short moment as I attempt and partially fail to regulate my breathing. I honestly don’t know what would’ve become of me if I didn’t have a friend like Yan by my side.

He was the one who also convinced me that my fears about Annika sharing my fate with ballet are paranoia. That my daughter isn’t me and we won’t actually suffer the same things.

“You have exactly one second to remove your hands from my wife’s shoulders before I break them.”

Adrian’s closed-off voice reaches us first, then his larger-than-life presence follows.

I’ve known this man for over twenty-five years and I still crane my head to get a better look at him. I still go the extra mile to engrave every inch of him to memory.

It’s probably because of all the times I thought he was no longer part of my life.

His dark gaze falls on Yan, who has stepped back but still meets Adrian’s solemn expression with a smile.

“Don’t be jealous, Boss. It’s not my fault that I’m charming.”

“We’ll see how charming you actually are when you’re buried facedown six feet under.”

Yan pats his shoulder. “You and I both know that won’t be happening as long as Lia is alive. See you later, Boss.”

He leaves the house with a nonchalant stride, completely oblivious to Adrian’s deadly glare. I can’t help the smile that appears on my lips. Adrian and Yan’s relationship will never change.

I’ve got to admit that it’s entertaining. Yan can’t help provoking him, and Adrian is closed-minded enough to willingly fall for it every time.

“That fucker will meet his maker tonight. And stop smiling, Lenochka.”

My heart races like it does every time he calls me by that nickname. My fingers smooth the wrinkle on his black shirt and I flatten my palm against the rippling muscles of his hard chest.

The chest that serves as both my pillow and my anchor. The chest through which I can listen to his heartbeat.

I’ve known him for so long and he still causes my stomach to flutter upon seeing him. He’s still the most dangerously beautiful man alive.

I shake my head. “You’re being irrational.”

“Were you smiling at Yan in this way? With your eyes shining and your face brightening?”

“Adrian!”

“Were you?”