Chapter 21 - Clara

"Hey, wake up." The harsh morning greeting is not one that I am used to at this point, and I scrunch my eyes closed tighter, thinking it must be a bad dream.

"Clara. Wake up." The unfamiliar voice comes through into my thoughts again. Someone's hand is on my arm, shaking me awake. I sigh, rolling over, and open my eyes. Through the confused moment of first waking up I see two strangers standing over my bed.

The sight of them sends adrenaline shooting through my body so that I am instantly alert and sitting up in bed.

Staring at Anya and Oleg. I blink several times trying to sort out the confusion in my mind while I pull the blankets up over my chest. I'm not even wearing pajamas. My cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Anya is right over my bed, leaning towards me, her hand hovering as though she was the one who shook me.

"What is going on? Where is Alex?" I blurt out once I find my voice.

Oleg steps away from the bed, looking awkward.

Well, you want to come rushing into a girl's bedroom and waking her up, you should be embarrassed.

Anya looks a lot more comfortable than he does. I guess she's seen breasts before. I glare at her, wanting answers.

"What are you guys doing in here?" I ask more sternly.

"It's time to go home, Clara," Anya says. "We came to fetch you."

"I—I'm not going home now?" My heart sinks right to the pit of my stomach. I don't want to go home. I'm not ready for this. Why?

Why now?

"Where is Alex?" I ask again, seeing as no one has bothered answering me.

"He went out," Oleg says from the doorway.

"No, he wouldn't do that…" My voice trails off. Is he done with me?

Did he leave and tell them to handle this so that he didn't have to deal with my emotional outburst when they told me to leave? Does he really care that little about me that he can't even be the one to tell me this?

My hurt is suddenly replaced by confused anger. I don't understand what is going on right now. My blood pumps faster as my adrenaline increases. I feel the confusion of fight or flight, but there is nothing to fight against, because Alexei isn't even here for me to argue with.

Why would he do this? Why is he kicking me out? Why didn't he at least warn me? But I can't ask him any of these questions, and really, that doesn't seem fair at all. Why don't I get to at least know why he made this choice?

The fact that he isn't giving me any kind of closure should speak for itself, though. He just doesn't care to do that for me.

Anya and Oleg are just staring at me, waiting expectantly for me to get up. But I'm naked. And I am certainly not going to be giving them a show.

"Guys, um." I pull my mouth tight and glare at both of them. "A little privacy, maybe?" The sarcasm in my voice is obvious.

"Right—Anya, stay with her. We can't take any chances. I'll be waiting downstairs."

"Chances?" They make it sound like I am some convict who needs to be watched closely. What do they think I'm going to do?

I sigh in frustration, trying to ignore the deep ache growing in my heart.

I'd rather be angry than sad right now—especially in front of these two people who I hardly even know.

It's a cold world, I guess.

I was naive to think it was anything other than a game to Alex.

And now he is bored and moving on.

Once Oleg has left the room, I sigh and toss the blankets off. Anya is giving me at least some privacy by standing near the window, facing a little away from me.

I pull on a pair of jeans and a hoodie. No time to shower, I guess.

What do I do with all the gifts he gave me?

I can't exactly take them with me.

I glance over the clothes and perfumes and random, seemingly thoughtful things he gave me.

Suddenly, my eyes are burning as the tears pool.

No. I can't cry. I can't cry in front of Anya or Oleg or anyone.

For me, this was all real. My heart felt every moment with him.

But there is no point in crying over a man who doesn't want you.

Dressed, I take one last look at the room, then turn to face Anya.

I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

"We can go," I say, my voice tighter than I expected it to be.

She looks at me, deeply, into my eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay, why wouldn't I be okay?" I snap harshly, then bite my lip because my emotions are getting the better of me.

"Alright," she says, clearly not believing me.

I follow her out of the room, down the stairs to the living room where Oleg is waiting for us. There is no sign of Alexei anywhere. He just left—he left them to deal with me.

"Let's go, then," Oleg says when we stand silently waiting.

Again, I follow Anya. My eyes are on the ground, my heart feels like it is on the ground as well.

I would have loved the chance to just say goodbye to Alex.

Oh well.

Whatever.

It doesn't matter.

It can't matter.

Sitting in the back of their car, I stare blankly out of the window.

Trees rush past my view and I don't pay any attention.

I can't seem to stop this sinking misery that's taking over my entire body and all my thoughts.

We drive for about an hour. I don't even know where we are by the time we stop at a gas station.

Oleg looks at Anya as though they both know what needs to be done.

Anya sighs after a while and turns to face me.

"Clara, this is neutral ground, between territories of various allies and rivals. We thought it was the best place to have you ‘found.' You can call your uncle from inside the gas station and…look, the thing is that if he finds out it was Alex who took you, or that he was in any way involved in this, he will come after him. He will kill him. He might not be successful on the first or second try, but one day, it'll happen."

I listen quietly. I know she's right. My uncle is a man of vengeance and he would hate to look like a fool. He will go after Alex just to appease his own ego, not even to avenge me—his temper alone would have him out on a rampage about this entire situation.

Anya is still explaining to me how she thinks Alexei was an idiot for taking me, and she's so sorry I went through all that, but can I find it in my heart not to tell my uncle who it was that had me this whole time—

The truth is that I'm not sorry at all.

This entire experience has changed me in ways I don't yet understand, but I think are good. I've seen things that have opened my heart to the way the world could be. And my time in nature was something I would never trade for anything.

"Anya." I hold up my hand to stop her long string of words that seem to have no end. "I won't tell my uncle that it was Alexei, or—you know—anything to do with your family at all."

Both Oleg and Anya are squinting at me. I guess they are trying to figure out if I am just saying what they need to hear or if I really mean it.

I do mean it.

They will just have to trust me on that one.

I pull the door handle and car door opens.

"Wait," Oleg says. But then he just sits there, clenching his jaw. He looks stressed beyond words.

"Yes?" I sigh. I just want to get this over with. I don't care about the politics and then way my uncle is going to react. All I care about, all I can think about, is that Alexei didn't even want to say goodbye. And my heart is breaking into a million little pieces, no matter how hard I try to ignore it.

"Um…" Oleg sighs.

"I won't say anything. You're just going to have to take the risk." I am getting frustrated.

"Yeah." Oleg nods. "Okay."

I climb out of the car and slam the door closed.

I stare at them, waiting for them to drive off.

I watch the hesitation as it flashes over their faces.

Then, finally, resigned to what is inevitable, Oleg puts the car in gear and drives away, leaving me standing…I have no idea where I am standing.

I turn away from the road I am staring down and towards the gas station.

Anya gave me a little money in case I needed to pay for the call.

The guy behind the counter at the cashier's desk is really nice, though, and he lets me use his phone for free.

It rings, and my stomach knots.

"Hello?" my uncle's voice comes through the line.

"Uncle Giorgio," I say his name fighting tears. Not tears for him—tears for myself and everything I am walking away from with Alex. Everything I am going back to with my uncle.

"Clara?" he shouts loudly, confused and in shock.

"Yes, it's me."

"Where the fuck are you?"

The guy behind the counter gives my uncle instructions on where I am and then offers to make me coffee while I wait.

I insist on paying for the coffee, seeing as I have enough. Then I sit outside on the pavement, my legs curled up under my chin as I stare blankly at everything around me and sip the hot coffee.

After a long wait and a second cup of coffee I see a big black SUV with tinted windows driving up the road towards the gas station. It can only be my uncle. All the other cars that have come past here have been pretty normal looking. This car looks like it belongs to the underworld.

I stand up, dusting the ground from my jeans. I don't really know how to act. I guess I don't even need to act. I'm fucking miserable.

The SUV comes to a stop alongside me.

The driver gets out and walks around to where I'm standing.

But it's not my uncle.

"Miss Vitali. Your uncle is so happy to have you safe again," the driver says, opening the back door for me. I peek into the car, expecting my uncle to be there, but he isn't.

"Where is he?" I ask, confused.

"He is at home. He had some work to attend to. But he's waiting for you and can't wait to see you."

I roll my eyes, the rejection and lack of affection hitting deep.

He couldn't even be bothered to come out and fetch me himself, but he wants to pretend like he was all desperate to find me.

It's such bullshit.

"I'm sure he's just over the moon about my return," I mutter sarcastically.

The driver pulls his mouth to the side. He knows better than to try and argue with me right now. In fact, he looks like he pities me.

"Do you need to stop at a doctor, Miss Vitali?" He says, climbing into the front again and looking at me in the rearview mirror.

"Please just take me home," I say. Then my mouth is filled with a bitterness that I try to swallow away, because home isn't home anymore.

Home is a person. A person who didn't even bother to say goodbye this morning.

Another car ride. Another blank stare out of the window.

I think am starting to go numb.

I hope so, because feeling any of this for too long will break me apart.

***

"Clara." My uncle is waiting at the top of the stairs leading into the house.

"Uncle Giorgio." He pulls me into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around me as he gushes over me.

I can't help but think it is all for show.

After leading me inside, I expect him to let me shower, change, settle in—but nothing like that happens.

He pushes me onto the sofa in the living room and sits in the chair opposite me with his hands folded in front of him. His intense stare is making me uncomfortable.

"Who took you? Who was it that was stupid enough to kidnap my niece? I want names. I want to know what happened," he demands.

Nothing soft or gentle or empathetic about his approach at all.

"I don't know," I shrug.

"What do you mean, you don't know? Don't lie to me, girl. Tell me who it was."

"I honestly don't know. I was locked in a room the entire time. I never even saw anyone."

"You were locked in a room? Who brought you food? Who gave you water? Who did you see while you were there?" He is pushing hard for this information. I can see him getting a little angry that I don't have answers.

"I didn't see anyone. They passed the food through a slot in the door."

"Clara, I need to know who it was. I need to go after them. I can't have the world thinking they can get away with screwing me over like this."

"Screwing you over? You? What about me? I was kidnapped. Do you even care how I feel or what I went through? Do you care if I'm okay now?" I am furious with him, and talking to him in ways I would never have dared to before.

He stands up, glaring down at me.

"Did the driver not ask if you wanted to go to a doctor?" he snaps.

"Are you kidding me? Is that it? Is that your level of softness?"

I shake my head, standing up. This conversation is over.

"Clara, don't you dare walk away from me until you've given me something to go on—"

"This conversation is over. I would like to shower, rest, recover from my traumatic ordeal ." I say sarcastically, because clearly, he doesn't give a fuck about any of it.

"Clara." I can hear the anger in his voice, but also confusion. I've never stood up to him before.

Upstairs, alone in my room with the door closed, I finally let myself cry.

I cry, flooding streams of tears for the man I fell in love with.

I will never tell my uncle who took me.

Even though Alexei didn't even have the heart to say goodbye, I don't want him dead. I don't want his family hurt.

I will just walk away from this whole thing, quietly accepting whatever is…just is.

And I'll find some way to move on.

But at least I learned about who I am, what I will and won't accept for my life anymore. And things between me and my uncle are definitely going to change.