17. Elira

17

ELIRA

THREE DAYS LATER

M aksim, Anya, and I sit on the couch, our feet propped on the table—even mine—as we let our minds deteriorate while staring at moving pictures on the screen.

Our bellies are full of borscht, a Russian soup I learned only today how to make from the woman I now work with at a bakery owned by the Bratva. Anya's initial excitement to learn to cook seems to have worn off, and after kneading dough all day then preparing dinner with only Maksim's poor attempts at helping, I'm exhausted. Which feels amazing .

I peek over at Maksim, his eyes glued to the screen, although I doubt he enjoys this movie as much as Anya does. It was her choice and is a bit too sappy for a ruthless killer, but you never know. We never had a TV back home, so I really can't say what I prefer, but this is nice.

No fighting. No danger. Just three people on a couch, faking it ‘til we make it , as Anya likes to say.

When her phone buzzes, Maksim's concentration breaks, and we both look at her as she picks it up, but I quickly turn back to the TV.

"Who is it?" Maksim stupidly asks.

I nudge him, but he only shoots me a dagger before looking expectantly at Anya.

Give her space, you idiot .

"No one."

Her fingers tap the screen while her brother continues to intrude. He even goes so far as to lean over me to peek at the message.

When I pinch his arm, giving him a threatening, ‘are you insane' look, he backs down, but his muscles are still tense. Even having no idea what went on between Anya and her boyfriend in his bed, he is still this overprotective. It would be ridiculous if his instincts weren't right.

"I really like this movie, Anya," I say in an attempt to diffuse the tension brewing in the air.

"Uh-huh, Ryan Gosling's a babe." She nods along with her words, never looking up from her phone. As soon as her fingers stop moving, my spine tingles with a rumble coming from outside.

Beside me, Maksim fumes, but Anya hops up before he can mention the tell-tale sound of the boyfriend's truck.

She stuffs her phone in the back pocket of white shorts that show off her ivory skin before training her eyes on me sheepishly. "I'm actually gonna take off for a bit, so you two enjoy it."

She doesn't even make it a step before Maksim is up and blocking her way. "You're not going anywhere."

Instead of her eyes widening like I expect them to, they narrow. She isn't surprised a bit. "Excuse me?"

"If you don't have the self-regulatory skills to stay away from things that are bad for you, then I have to make your decisions for you. You're grounded."

"Grounded?" Her jaw drops with a laugh. "How are you going to ground me if you're hardly ever here? How exactly do you plan on enforcing that?"

Maksim gestures to me, and I glare at him, wishing to be left out of this.

Anya rolls her eyes and turns to walk away, probably headed for the back door.

I expect Maksim to chase after her, but he stands his ground. "I hope you're prepared to support yourself, Anya, because if you walk out that door, I'm not going to sit around waiting for you to come back this time. Your phone and credit card will both be turned off before you get to wherever that dirtbag is taking you."

This has Anya's attention. She grinds to a halt, her shoulders lifting as her back constricts, and when she spins, her eyes look like glass.

"Sitting around waiting for me to come back?" she asks, stomping his way. "You don't even care when I leave!" I cringe at the high pitch of her yell, but Maksim doesn't even flinch. "You went off and got married, you stupid fucking asshole !" When she reaches him, she slaps her hand at his chest, tears pooling in her eyes. He just stands there like a statue, looking exactly as she's accusing him—uncaring.

Oh, Maksim.

"Of course he cares," I chime in, unsure if I'll regret it. The kid likes me, but I'm still new. This isn't my business.

Anya predictably looks at me like she's about to spew venom, but I go on.

"He's an idiot , obviously, but, honey, if your brother didn't care, he wouldn't be trying to stop you right now." I frown and go on before she can throw a retort my way. "I thought you realized that boy wasn't good for you."

"That boy has a name. His name is Tanner, and neither of you even know him. You're both judgmental pricks, and I fucking hate you. Just…" Her hands fly up as she growls and prepares to storm away again.

Even as my stomach twists, I nod. "You're right."

That surprises her. And Maksim.

"What?" he snaps while Anya gives me a skeptical glare, her arms crossing as she turns to face me.

I show her my palms. "Neither of us know Tanner. Why don't you invite him inside so we can get to know him a little better?" I smile and gesture to the TV. "Maybe we could all finish the movie?"

She blinks at me then shakes her head in disbelief before striding to the back door.

"Anya!" Maksim yells, storming her way.

I rush to get in front of him and put a hand on his arm.

"Get out of my way," he snarls.

" Stop . Just let her go."

"Anya, I swear to God—" The sound of the sliding door slamming cuts him off, and when he turns to head for the front door, I grab his arm and pull.

"Maksim, stop it. That's enough."

He jerks out of my hold. "You don't even know her."

" You don't even know her," I counter. When he makes it to the front door, I let out a frustrated groan. "You're her blood. She'll forgive many things, but if you hurt that boy, you'll never stand a chance of earning her trust."

With his hand on the knob, he fumes. The truck rumbles away without him moving, and as soon as the sound ceases, he roars and barrels his fist into a wall, caving in the sheetrock and making me flinch.

Closing my eyes, I count to five, then I slowly make my way to him and put my hand on his shoulder. He stands unmoving.

"Maybe that's the problem," he says, his voice low, defeated. "I'm not her blood."

I stare at him questioningly, but he gives no sign of explaining further, so I don't press for details. "You're her brother. Blood or not."

When he turns to me, I see pain I didn't know he was capable of. I find myself nudging closer, moving my touch to his arm. The warmth of his skin on my hand feels oddly pleasant.

He sighs. "What do I do now?"

I frown, thinking about him being on his own raising Anya all these years, clueless and helpless. When did their—or her—mother die exactly?

"Now you wait. You check in. You show her you're here for her whenever she needs you, without judgment."

He rubs the back of his neck, pulling away from me in the process, and it gives me a feeling of loss that I try to immediately shut down.

"What if she doesn't come back?" he asks.

"She will."

He slowly lowers his hand, asking the question without words. How do you know?

"Text her. Tell her you love her and to be safe. Don't shut off her phone or do anything that would push her away, and she'll come back. I promise."

He nods, accepting the suggestion. "Okay."

His eyes lower to the little space between us, and we look away like we just realized how close we're standing. I feel my face get hot as I take a step back.

"So what now?" he asks.

I meet his eyes and tilt my head. Didn't he just ask me this? "Now you should send the text. Then just wait for Anya to make her move."

"No, I mean, what do you want to do now?"

Oh… Of course. My face grows even hotter with embarrassment.

He glances toward the door. "I don't mean to ditch you, but I'm not in a movie watching mood."

I nod like I understand even as my throat tries to close up. "You're leaving?"

His lips part, but then he just nods.

The blue eyes that apparently hold no genetic ties to his sister kick me in the stomach now. Never would I have thought that I'd want Maksim's company, but… I don't know. I thought we had a moment of civility just then.

I smile like he just made my night and turn to walk down the hallway. "Have a good time."

A second passes. Then another, the only sound my bare feet padding on the carpet.

"Come with me."

I halt in my tracks, not turning around when I speak. "What?"

I feel him near me. "Come with me to Hugh's. You can pretend not to speak English still, if you want to, but… We're supposed to be friends, right? How are we going to do that if we don't get to know each other?"

"So stay here, then."

"I can't."

My brows pinch. "Why?"

"Because this place makes me feel like a fucking American."

I twist my lips while I ponder that.

"If you decide you don't want to be there, we can leave... Who knows, maybe it'll be fun."

I've been around those men. It's hard to imagine having fun in their vicinity.

But days ago I thought the same of Maksim.

Am I really considering going back there?

My heart races just thinking of it, but still, I take a deep breath and turn around.

"Sure," I say, not sure at all. "Just let me change."