Nothing More is a story about being caught between two worlds for both Raven and Toly...Toly's predicament is just a lot more likely to get someone killed.
Slowly but surely, it's all coming together! I can't wait to share it soon.
Be sure to get caught up on Long Way Down, first, so you're up to speed on characters and overarching conflicts.
“Take care, little brother,” Misha said in Russian, voice warm and bracing.
Toly stood a moment after the call ended; let his head fall back against the wall and breathed deep, because he could, now. He felt lighter inside, something bright winking from between his ribs, a glow that he was afraid someone inside might see. He didn’t relish the idea that he was all lit up over little brother. That for the first time in a long time, he felt as though the world had tipped back into place, because he’d been floundering as a person who was Misha’s enemy. He was being disloyal to the Dogs, after they’d given him a new home, accepted him into their ranks and protected him from the bratva’s wrath…but there was no smothering the spark in the center of his chest. He stood and enjoyed it, the way it eased the constantly-clenched fist that lived behind his breastbone, until he heard voices through the wall and let himself inside.
That lovely spark winked out; sank like a cold stone in his belly when he saw that Raven was in the foyer. Rooting around in the coat closet, dressed warmly, for going outside. She came out with a long coat on a hook, turned and saw him. Smiled.
A smile that hit him so hard he nearly staggered back.
She wasn’t guarded anymore; those sliding, sideways glances and pursed lips of his short-lived stint as her “assistant” had given way to unbridled gladness. A warmth and a welcome that made his little hallway spark seem pale as a firefly glimmer in comparison. Misha had never called him little brother, no, and the Dogs had never cared for him as a real brother, but no one had ever looked at Toly like Raven did now. It was too much to look at; the emotion in her gaze too strong to accept without flinching.
But there was sadness there, too. Traces of something like resignation in the corners of her mouth, at the edges of her eyes. As though she was both delighted and unutterably sad all at once. Like she was thrilled to see him, and grieving him, too.
She knew.
He knew in that moment, standing like an idiot inside the front door, that she knew he was a dirty, treacherous liar, but she cared enough about him to smile anyway.