Hidden Truths (Perfectly Imperfect, #3)

by Neva Altaj

I look up at him, debating if I should clock him upside the head for interrupting me, and decide against it. That wife of his must be crazy in love with him and his grumpy personality. She wouldn’t be happy if he came home with a lump on the side of his head and his ear looking like a hamburger.

Never presume someone is dead until he’s sporting a hole in his head. That’s my motto. It even rhymes.

Her hands move up until they rest on either side of my face, and she looks at me the way she always does—like she sees me, not someone they send in when stuff needs to be destroyed or people eliminated. Not the unhinged man everyone fears will kill them if they look at him the wrong way. Just . . . me.

“Because, when you look at me, I remember I’m still alive.”

“You’re the only thing that keeps my darkness away, lisichka.” I kiss her shoulder. “If, one day, you decide you’ve had enough of my shit, just leave and never look back. And make sure you hide very well.” “Why?” she asks and wraps her legs around my waist. “Because, I will follow and drag you back. And there’s nowhere you’ll be able to hide if I decide to chase you, Angelina.”

I never realized how dead inside I’ve felt until this little fox stumbled onto my path and pulled me out of the abyss.

“He said it was a surprise.” She chuckles. “I think it’s romantic.” “Romantic?” I take in the crumbling walls of my childhood home, then scan the lawn covered with blood and dead bodies, halting at the two outer buildings just off to the side. Or . . . what was left of them.

“Sergei!” she calls again, jumps over a dead soldier, and leaps into my arms. “You came for me.” “Of course I came for you,” I say and kiss her like my life depends on it. “I will always come for you, baby.”

“I’ve never been scared of you, Sergei. What I feared was that you might come after me and end up dead. I’m so sorry for hurting you, baby.” “So . . . you’re coming back? With me?” “If you have nothing against that plan, yes.” I look down into her eyes and crush her to me. “Marry me,” I blurt out. Angelina blinks, glances around us where at least twenty bodies are scattered, then stares back at me. “You really know how to pick the time and place, big guy.” “Will you marry me?” I think my heart stops beating while I watch her with eyes glued to her lips, waiting for her answer. “Of course I will.” She grins and kisses me.