Had he made a mistake in bringing her home? He’d learned from a young age that when he or his men were wounded, they would retreat to home territory where they could get patched up in the safety of their own organization. Jozef had automatically brought Shaun home, where he could defend her if necessary.
Shaun was different though. She should be in a hospital, surrounded by people she trusted to take care of her.
Jozef stopped pacing and stood next to her.
She tilted her chin and looked at him. He felt her hooded golden stare right down to his soul. He reached out and used his knuckles to brush away the tears that spilled freely down her cheeks. She was in pain and shock.
“Jozef…” she whispered and then licked her lips, taking in the salty tears before continuing. “Did I… did I kill her?”
He wanted to scream out that he didn’t give a shit if she killed Dasha. That as soon as Shaun was patched up and resting comfortably, he was going to hunt his aunt down, demand some answers, then take her apart piece by piece. But Shaun didn’t need to know that. She needed reassurance that she hadn’t killed someone.
Jozef shook his head, and signed carefully, slowly, so Shaun could follow, she’s alive and will make a full recovery.
Instead of happiness, her eyes filled with even more tears and her face crumpled. “I hurt her,” she said desperately, the tears spilling over. “I almost killed someone. I… I… oh god.”
“Hush, baby,” Fatima murmured, picking Shaun’s hand up where it was clasped in her own and kissing the back, before smoothing her hand over the delicate skin. “You did nothing wrong.”
“I did, I did!” Shaun’s voice bordered on hysterical, her breathing laboured. “I broke my oath. I did harm.”
Jozef wished more than ever that he could speak, but since he couldn’t, he would show Shaun what he was feeling. He dropped to his knees next to the couch and took her face in his hands, forcing her beautiful golden eyes to meet his gaze. He slowly and deliberately shook his head, allowing her to see his thoughts. As he stared at her, he took in a deep breath through his nose and then released it through his mouth. He tapped her lips, instructing her to do the same.
She understood what he was saying, but she tried to shake her head and pull out of his hold. She wasn’t ready to forgive herself.
Jozef wouldn’t allow her denial. He tightened his grip on her face and dropped his head to hers, making sure she could still see his eyes. He shook his head again, staring into her soul, trying his best to imprint the truth on her. This was not her fault, she did nothing wrong. He was so happy she survived that the knowledge of her survival was the only thing allowing him to hold his shit together.
He tapped her lips again, and this time she breathed with him. Gradually each breath became smoother and smoother, though her tears continued to drip down her face.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve pulled your family apart. I got Karl killed.”
Jozef released her head and stood. She refused to understand, to internalize the truth. She’d been attacked, she’d defended herself. She did everything right, even if what was right didn’t feel good.
Jozef glanced at Fatima, who’d been quietly crying and trying to comfort her daughter. She seemed to be taking Karl’s death particularly badly, inquiring about his family and funeral arrangements.
Fatima looked away from Jozef’s stare, focusing her energy on Shaun. She blamed him. How could she not? It was his fault her daughter had been attacked. For the second time. If he hadn’t taken Shaun from the hospital in Luhansk none of this would’ve happened.
They wouldn’t have fallen in love and they wouldn’t have forged a relationship that destroyed the foundations of his family and set off a chain of events that had shaken up the eastern European underworld.
While he held his aunt almost entirely responsible, he also blamed himself. His existence had caused this. His decisions. His stubborn insistence that he and Shaun could make their relationship work, forcing two separate worlds to collide.
Jozef gripped his head and growled his anger and frustration, his guilt and pain.
He reached for his gun when a hand came down on his shoulder. Then, seeing Havel, he dropped his hand.
“You need to pull yourself together, man.” Havel glanced at Shaun, who was quietly sobbing on the couch, her mother holding her hand. The doctor sat on the coffee table, suturing Shaun’s wounds.
She had a deep cut to her forearm, another serious cut on her wrist that the doctor believed had nicked the bone, and a superficial cut to her face. Other than the stab wounds, she had a large bruise on her back. She’d been lucky. Dasha was an accomplished combatant. The attack could have been much worse, much deadlier.
Jozef didn’t know how Shaun survived, but he was extremely grateful.
Guilt ate at him as he stared at her. Since coming into her life, he’d caused her a world of pain. And even knowing this, he still wouldn’t let her go. What kind of person did that make him?
Havel gripped his shoulder until it hurt and shook him. “Wake the fuck up, man.”
Jozef growled and swung an angry glare toward his best friend and second-in-command.
“Good, now I have your attention.” Havel’s face was set in serious lines, but his voice softened. “You need to put a lid on whatever’s going on in there.” He tapped Jozef’s head. “I get it. Your girl got hurt. You blame yourself. You want better for her, but now is not the time.”
Jozef shoved Havel away and signed, I’m not in the mood for a pep talk. Spit out whatever you’re trying to say.
Havel nodded and got down to business. “Krystoff will know exactly what went down at the restaurant by now. He’ll either try to reason with
