Page 112 of Scarred Redemption

He chuckled. “You’re right.”

“I was thinking that since I don’t have my mace, having a weapon at my disposal might not be a bad idea.”

The request was one he hadn’t anticipated. “You will have at least six men here protecting you and a very secure system watching the house. I’ll know if the security is breached.”

“You said so yourself that no one can be trusted. I know how to shoot a gun, Maxsim. I’ll give it back to you when you return.”

“Alright. That sounds reasonable. If there is anything that appears to be out of the ordinary or if your instinct feels off, follow it. Whatever the consequences, just do what you feel is right. Promise me that.”

“Absolutely. I have no intention of allowing anything to happen to any of us while you’re gone.”

His face darkened. “I know you’ll keep Mina safe. You should know that I’ve made arrangements with my attorney. If anything should happen to me, I’ve made you Mina’s guardian.”

What? Another gut punch and one I didn’t need. I was obviously already experiencing changes in my hormones because my eyes welled with tears.

“Don’t talk like that, Maxsim. I can’t take it. What are you doing tonight? Why are you telling me this? Don’t you know what it does to me? I can’t stand the thought of you walking out that door and having to worry that something is going to happen to you. I can’t do it.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me, my angel. You asked me to keep you informed and never to lie. That’s what I’m doing. Trust me, Isabel. Please.”

“You keep saying that and I’m frightened, Maxsim. I’m terrified that I finally found the man I love and he’s going to go off halfcocked and get himself killed.”

“Excuse me. I’m sorry for interrupting, but you should expect a phone call any minute from the hospital. I read them the riot act.” Hope shifted her gaze from me to Maxsim.

Maxsim’s shoulders fell, the weight of the world collapsing on him. I knew exactly how he felt and for a few seconds, I was standing in my mother’s kitchen while she took the phone call that would mean my sister’s death sentence.

The cancer had returned.

Just as Hope said, Maxsim’s phone rang less than a minute later. He looked me directly in the eyes as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Maxsim Aristov. Yes, Dr. Mitchell. What can you tell me?”

Hope left the kitchen with tears in her eyes, as if she’d been told the news. She’d heard every story about how my family had been devastated. She knew how horrible the disease was. And she knew enough about Maxsim to know he could fall apart in hearing the determination.

I gripped his arm, praying as I’d done with my sister. Maybe this time, prayers could come true.

“Thank you, Doctor. Yes, I appreciate your call.” He tossed the phone onto the counter, planting his hands on either side and dropping his head.

“And?” I pressed.

When he finally locked eyes with me, there were tears in his. “A mild infection and nothing more. My baby girl is going to be alright.”

The news was amazing and emotional, and I could see some of the horrific pain in his eyes fade, as if he had some spirit of feeling hope for the first time in months. Maybe years.

But sadly, a gnawing feeling had taken residence in the pit of my stomach, churning while sending tiny prickles of electric shocks to every synapse in my brain. While I expressed my joy, I couldn’t get over the feeling.

Something terrible was about to happen.

CHAPTER 23

Maxsim

“You’re certain you know how to use this?” As I asked the question, I slapped the magazine into the Beretta. The weapon was both compact and had relatively soft recoil. I watched to see Isabel’s reaction, but there wasn’t any. She didn’t flinch and didn’t appear horrified, which meant she had been around guns before.

The thought of leaving her protecting herself and my daughter along with her best friend left a bad taste in my mouth. Not because I didn’t trust her, but because she obviously felt as if my soldiers were inadequate at their jobs.

While I’d love to spend the time discovering why, one phone call had changed everything.

The man known as the Blade, the vice president of the Dixie mafia and from what I’d been told, a lethal man, had decided to turn himself in. Not to law enforcement, but to the one man who could save his life, me.

It would seem the new version of the Butcher had decided Zane Moore was better off dead.