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Chapter 169 – Loud
publish date:
2026-05-25 14:42:40
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Cracking His Code Chapter 181 – Home
OliverThe dog finds my socks again.It’s six in the morning and I’m on the back step of the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand and a half-shredded sock in the other, watching a fifteen-kilo brown idiot tear across the lawn toward the cedars with my other sock in his mouth and no intention of giving it back."Mishka!"He doesn't turn. He doesn't even slow."Mishka, you absolute bastard!"Nothing. The cedars are very interesting this morning, apparently. Our white cat, Anya, who Kir picked out at the shelter in February because she "looked like she was very discerning” is on the windowsill behind me watching this entire transaction with the dispassion of someone who decided long ago the dog is beneath her notice.I take a sip of the coffee. Still too hot. I burn my tongue. I swear, quietly, at the cedars, the dog, the sock, and the cat, in that order."You are losing this fight, lyubov."Kir is in the doorway behind me. Bare feet, wearing one of my t-shirts for some incomprehen
Cracking His Code Chapter 180 – After
DomTwo weeks out from the surgery Kir is up and moving and trying to move a chair across the kitchen, and Oliver has the bone-deep look of a man about to commit a homicide."Kirill Nikolaev, put the fucking chair down.""It is only a chair, Oliver.""It’s heavier than your head. Tariq said no lifting. Put it the fuck down.""I am not lifting it. I am moving it across the floor.""That’s lifting.""It is sliding.""Sliding is lifting. Sliding is the verb form of lifting. Put. The chair. Down."It’s really not fair of Oliver to be straight up lying about the English language to Kir, but in fairness, all four of that chair’s legs were in the air, he was not sliding anything.Kir, very slowly, with the patience of a man who’s been fussed at for fourteen days straight and has no say in how much longer he’ll be fussed at, sets the chair down on the lino.He turns to Oliver and raises his good eyebrow. The bandage on the right side of his face has come down, three days ago, to expose the w
Cracking His Code Chapter 179 – Smoking Gun
ChanaA week into Kir's recovery I make a serious tactical decision, which is that I’m going to spend as little time as possible in a room with Oliver.It’s not that I don’t love him. I love him a great deal. I have, in the months we’ve been working together, come to think of him as the kind of small irritating brother you'd kill for and also occasionally want to smother with a pillow. The problem is that I’m two ill-timed comments away from saying something that will cost me a friendship I value, and Oliver-in-carer-mode is a man engineered, in a lab somewhere, to draw the worst possible comment out of every person in his vicinity.He is, for one thing, ordering people around like he’s been declared the undisputed monarch of this territory and the others are just quietly accepting it.He’s ordering Tariq around about Kir's antibiotic schedule, even though Tariq has been doing this job for sixteen years and Oliver has been doing it for about a week. He’s telling Ray how to adjust t
Cracking His Code Chapter 178 – Three Days
OliverDay one is the easy one, which says everything.I sleep maybe three hours on the cot. Jozef stays in the corner the whole time. When I wake up Kir hasn't moved an inch, the vent is still doing his breathing for him, and the monitors are doing the quiet steady beeping they've been doing since Reilly walked out.That steady beep becomes my god by lunchtime.I learn it the way I learned to read heat signatures on surveillance cameras when I joined the team.Every rhythm, every gap, every faint stutter when he shifts in the sedation. I memorize the resting numbers on the bedside screen. I catch the exact second the oxygen level dips a point and the exact second it climbs back. Tariq tells me, gently, that I should let him do that. I tell him, less gently, to shut up.He doesn't take it personally. Saint hovers in the doorway looking pained. He obviously gets where I’m coming from, but he’d still rather like to break my jaw for being rude to his boyfriend.Jozef brings me food
Cracking His Code Chapter 177 – Too Late
OliverIt opens up in front of me, all at once, the whole dark yawning abyss of misery.The thing I’ve refused to look at since the alarm. A world with no Kir in it. A house in Canada with one set of footsteps. A bed that's too big and empty. A wedding that doesn't happen. The rest of my life as a long flat grey corridor with him not at the end of it, not anywhere in it, just gone, just a hole shaped exactly like the only person who ever made me feel like a whole person.I can't breathe.I press his slack hand to my mouth. His blood is on my lips. I don't care."Don't you dare," I whisper into his knuckles, and it comes out wrecked. There’s nothing left of the steamroller, just a man falling apart over the body of his soulmate. "Don't you dare leave me here. I have done everything I can. I found the surgeon who can fix you and he’s on his way. I will always find a way to fix you. You can’t leave me, Kir. You can’t. You don’t get to die on me, Kirill, I forbid it, do you hear me,
Cracking His Code Chapter 176 – Pandemonium
Oliver In my ear, Butcher speaks in a calm, flat tone. The voice he uses when a thing has already gone wrong and panicking won't unmake it.Kir’s down. He’s been hit in the face. It looks bad.Face.Face.The word goes into me like a spike and I’m out of the chair without deciding to stand, both hands flat on the table, staring at Butcher's cam feed because Kir's has dropped to the dirt and is showing me nothing but the toe of a boot."How bad — Butcher — how bad —"Butcher turns his cam and I see him.I see him and the bottom drops out of the world.The right side of his face is gone. That's what my brain says first, in the half-second before it can correct itself.It looks gone because there’s so much blood I can’t find the architecture of him under it.It's sheeting. It's coming off his jaw in a steady black ribbon and soaking the collar of his jacket and running down the inside of Butcher's wrist where Butcher has his hand clamped to the side of Kir's head.I can't see Kir’s ey
Cracking His Code Chapter 13 – The Culinary Compromise
OliverSleep is a fragmented, elusive concept. Tossing and turning on the incredibly firm mattress in Kirill’s guest room only yielded short, anxiety-riddled bursts of unconsciousness. Every time my eyes managed to close, the percussive echo of automatic gunfire rattled through my skull, jerking m
Cracking His Code Chapter 27 – The Surrender
OliverThe haze of arousal is thick and suffocating, drowning out every rational thought in my head.Heat pools heavy and demanding in my stomach. It’s a desperate, throbbing ache that the silicone toy is barely managing to scratch. Every stroke of my hand, every slow roll of my hips, is fueled en
Cracking His Code Chapter 11 – Collateral Damage
KirillThe heavy steel door hisses open the second I punch the final digit into the keypad.Stepping through the threshold, the barrel of a suppressed pistol is leveled squarely at the center of my chest. Saint does not flinch. It takes him a fraction of a second to register my face, and the weapon
Cracking His Code Chapter 12 – The Glass Cage
OliverThe silence in the penthouse is absolute, but my ears are still ringing with the deafening roar of automatic gunfire.The adrenaline that fueled my panicked compliance during our escape is finally draining away, leaving behind a toxic, heavy sludge of exhaustion and creeping dread. My hands
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