19. Nikolai

Chapter 19

Nikolai

We arrived back at the house as twilight fell, the sky transitioning from a serene blue to a symphony of blush pinks and fiery oranges; a perfect backdrop for the day we'd had together.

As soon as we entered the house, the aroma of dinner wafted towards us.

"Fuck me, Sully can cook," Maddy groaned. My stomach agreed, growling in a low rumble that could easily be heard, likely even from the next room.

"What's for dinner, Sully?" I asked, removing my arm from Maddy's shoulders to pat him on the back, peering around him to see what he was cooking on the stove.

"Nothing special, bro. Stir fry and rice."

"Well, it smells amazing. How can we help?" Maddy asked.

"By going and getting cleaned up. By the looks of you, Niko took you out for a hike, and I'm sure you both need a shower," Sully said. "But before you go, taste this." He held the spoon out for her to take a bite. I watched, enraptured, as her lips wrapped around the metal spoon, sliding the bite off the utensil and into her mouth. Her eyes rolled back in her head, a low groan that sounded too familiar, and far too sexual for my liking, erupting from her lips.

"It's so good! You're a genius in the kitchen, Sully," she praised him, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"You two run along now. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes," he said with a huge grin.

We made our way upstairs, chasing each other like small children.

"You can shower first if you want," Maddy said breathlessly as we both stood in the hallway near her door. Her earlier sass and snark had diminished slightly. We were both worn out after all the physical exertion.

Grabbing hold of her arm, I tugged her to me sharply, laughing as she tumbled into my arms.

"Or we could kill two birds with one stone," I replied, letting my smirk say it all.

Her eyes danced with mischief, and I knew I was in trouble.

"What'd you have in mind, buddy?" That fucking word falling from her lips immediately pushed the button that drew my ire and inflamed my desire in equal measure.

"Oh, you like playing with fire, don't you?" I chuckled darkly, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.

"I'm a thrill seeker. It's in my blood," she teased as I leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "Plus, you have a better shower than the one in the hall. "

"Exactly."

"Granted…" she almost drawled, drawing out the word hesitantly. "I could just take your shower for myself."

With that, she slipped out of my arms with a loud giggle and made a mad dash off towards my room.

I was after her in a flash, nearly tripping over my own two feet in my haste. But I would not have traded the playful nature of our banter for anything. It fueled me.

Down the hall and into my room, I gave chase, just barely missing her as she retreated into the bathroom with a squeal. She slammed the door in my face, and I heard the sound of the lock clicking just as my hand wrapped around the doorknob.

"Maddy…" I growled, the warning reverberating deep in my chest. Still, that playfulness remained ever present, evident in her tittering giggle of response from behind the door.

"Niko…" she replied, trying to mimic my own tone by lowering her voice as far as she could — a feat not at all possible. I was a deep bass on a good day and she — well, she most certainly was not.

I growled once more, delighting in her giggle before she relented, finally unlocking the door and opening it for me.

"Good girl," I murmured, pulling her in for a kiss. "It would not have gone well for you if I had been forced to break down my own bathroom door."

She giggled again. "Well, maybe next time you should ask nicely. "

I chuckled and swatted her butt gently as she moved away to begin undressing.

Wasting no time, I turned the shower on full blast, letting it warm up as we removed our clothing and stepped inside the steamy shower stall.

There was something deep and intimate about showering with someone. As I poured shampoo into my hand, urging her to turn around so I could lather it in her hair, I let myself revel in the quiet comfort this kind of intimacy brought. The shower seemed to tame her brattiness somewhat as well, as she settled into a more thoughtful, quiet mood.

"Where are you from, Niko?" she asked, out of the blue, as my hands worked the lather down her long strands.

"What?" I asked, surprised by her question.

"Where are you from?" she repeated with a small giggle, a subdued echo of our earlier fun.

"I grew up in a suburb of Chicago," I answered, almost without thinking. It was a trained response, if not a completely honest one.

"You were born there?"

"Why do you ask?" I had thought our shower would be sensual and fun, but this was a change of subject I hadn't seen coming.

"Well, you have an accent. So I was curious if you were born here in the States, or somewhere else. Just curious."

"I was born in Moscow, actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really." I guided her head back to rinse the suds from her hair.

"When did you move here?"

"When I was seven." I kept my answers short and to the point, not wanting to dive into a deeper matter on a whim. Instead, I busied myself by lathering up the loofah and running it over her body. However, I could not stop the memories from playing in my head. They were faint, sometimes hard to access, but they were there, nonetheless.

"What was that like?" I could tell she was hedging a little, being cautious of her words, and trying not to cross a boundary. It was unnecessary, although I appreciated her consideration. I preferred bluntness to beating around the bush.

"It was difficult. My childhood was… not an easy one."

As I leaned down, crouching on one knee in the large shower stall to wash her legs, I heard her sigh heavily; the sound drew my attention back up to her face.

"Did you have something to say?" I asked directly, my eyes meeting hers. I very specifically did not follow the lines of her body downward, over the curves of her luscious breasts that dripped water off of pointed nipples, down to the apex of her well-groomed sex, currently hovering only a few inches away from my face.

As much as I wanted to push her against the shower wall, throw one of her legs over my shoulder, and devour her delicious cunt, now was not the time. This conversation could get very heavy, very quickly, if I wasn't careful.

"I don't want to cross a line," she admitted almost shyly. I had to admit, I was a little taken aback by her reserved demeanor. It was out of character, to say the least.

"Ask." It was a snippy response, but I didn't want to draw this out any longer if I didn't have to.

"Will you tell me about it?" she asked, nervously biting her lower lip as I stood up from washing her legs. I couldn't think of a real reason to deny her. It's not like it was a secret or some triggering issue that would send me reeling back into flashbacks. It was just something I hadn't talked about much.

"I was born in Moscow to my parents, Mikhail and Katarina Ivanov. We weren't well off, but not many were back then. There was a lot of chaos in Russia in the eighties and nineties."

"Oh right, that was when the Soviet Union fell apart, right?" she asked, turning in the shower's spray to rinse the lathered soap from her body.

"Yes. I grew up right in the middle of the collapse of the Soviet Union," I explained. "The country was at war off and on for years, and it was, honestly, a bit of a nightmare. I don't remember much, either because I was just so young or because I have blocked a lot of it out. I don't really know which. My father was involved in many political protests over the years. I honestly have very few memories of him. He was always out working for the cause, leaving my mother, my little brother, and I at home."

"You have a brother?" she asked, her eyes turning towards me.

"I had a brother," I corrected her carefully. Her eyes grew sad, her mouth opening in a shocked, silent gasp of realization.

"Niko…" she muttered, her words trailing off. She obviously didn't know what to say. No one ever did, which is why I rarely talked about it.

"It's ok. It was a long time ago. My little brother died when I was only six years old. He was not even two at the time. There was a massive outbreak of diphtheria in the aftermath of the collapse. He was so young. It took him quickly. He just wasn't strong enough. With all the turmoil in the country, healthcare was barely available. Or so it seemed, back then."

"I can't even imagine," she whispered, reaching for the shampoo and motioning for me to turn around. I crouched down slightly, allowing her enough space to wash my hair. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had someone wash my hair. The feel of her fingernails lightly scraping against my scalp sent shivers down my spine and somehow made the retelling of my tragic childhood just a little easier.

"It was hard. So, yeah," I continued with a heavy sigh. "The outbreak took Dimitri first."

"First?" she asked, guiding me to step back into the water's spray to rinse the shampoo away before grabbing the loofah herself.

"Yes. It was only a few months later that my mother fell ill with the same disease. For her, it wasn't quick. It was long and brutal. With my father gone all the time, there was no one left to care for her but me."

"How did you not get sick?" she whispered, running the loofah over my body slowly. In any other situation, I would have found the strokes of her hands sensual and arousing. But this wasn't that kind of shower.

"Mother was able to get me a vaccine. They were hard to come by, and rare as hell. But with the work of a few neighbors, she was able to get me inoculated, sparing me from transmission. It was an agonizing few months, watching her grow weaker, getting sicker every day until the disease finally claimed her life."

"What happened then?" she asked, shifting behind me as she moved the soft loofah in circles over my broad back.

"I stayed there, laying in bed next to her body until my father returned," I answered, my voice growing cold, almost clinical as I recalled the events from those dreadful days.

Her motions ceased as silence filled the shower stall. The gentle sound of the running water became a deafening roar, burrowing into my ears mercilessly.

"Niko?" she asked with great hesitation.

"Hmm?"

"When did your father return?"

I knew the question was coming, and yet, it did nothing to soften the blow of the truth.

"Three days later."

I turned to see her eyes glistening with unspoken sorrow, a tear glistening on her cheek like a fragile dewdrop. The quiet, shuddering breath she took was the only sound that filled the space between us, as if her heart was breaking along with mine. Each syllable of my confession hung heavy in the room, a ghostly reminder of the pain I had buried for so long.

She reached out, her fingers grazing mine in a gesture of silent solidarity. In that delicate touch, I felt the weight of my past weave itself into the fragile tapestry of our shared moment.

"My father did return home, but only long enough to realize all he had lost. The death of my brother had hit him hard. He was gone more, gone longer, every time he left the house to participate in protests and resistance movements. After my mother's death, it only got worse. He threw himself headlong into the cause. I was too young to realize it then, but he was burying his grief in his political efforts. I understand it now, but it didn't make it any easier then."

"You were seven, Niko. What did you do? Who cared for you?" she asked, her eyes searching mine.

"No one. Neighbors checked in occasionally, but back then, things were hard on everyone."

"That's… it's…" she stammered, unable to find words to describe the horrors I was recounting.

"It's ok," I reassured her, my hand running up and down her arm gently. "It didn't last long. My father was killed just a few weeks later. A protest at the parliament building turned into a full-blown skirmish when forces loyal to Yeltsin stormed the place. After that, I was removed from our home and put into an orphanage."

She seemed unable to keep her hands off of me, providing soothing touches to my arms before dropping her hands and linking her fingers with mine in a gesture of comfort.

"I was one of the lucky ones. I wasn't there long. An American family adopted me within the span of a few months. Alexander and Nadia Sokolov were both born in Russia themselves and had been unable to have children of their own. With all the civil unrest in Russia, they decided to help the children left orphaned by the turmoil and violence. So, I got out. They brought me back to America; to Chicago. I was raised in a loving, nurturing home, where I was able to enjoy the comforts of American life while still having a taste of my heritage. So don't weep for me, Maddy. I promise you, I was one of the lucky ones."

She just wrapped her arms around me and laid her head against my chest, there under the cascading water droplets. Slowly, hesitantly, I wrapped my arms up and around her shoulders and laid my head on top of hers. We stood that way for a long few moments.

Eventually, I let go and finished rinsing off. I had spilled my guts far more than I had planned, but somehow, I felt lighter for it. I turned the shower off, grabbing our towels to dry off with.

As we dressed for dinner, I took a moment to pull her to me, hugging her gently once more.

"Thank you for asking about my past. Not many do. But if it's all the same to you, I'd like to leave it there for now," I said, hoping to convey to her the truth in my words.

"Leaving the past in the past," she said thoughtfully, her eyes searching mine before a smirk graced her lips. "I think I can handle that."

Dinner was a rowdy affair, the food eaten quickly between almost non-existent lulls in conversation. Maddy was really starting to fit right in, giving as good as she got as teasing and sarcastic remarks were passed from person to person like greeting cards.

"Well, this has been far too much fun tonight," Jax said as he gathered up dishes from the table, much to Sully's chagrin. "What do you all say to a game of cards?" He wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm not sure Maddy's ready for that kind of fun yet," I sighed, feeling overfull and overjoyed at how the day had turned out.

"Hey now! I think I've proven I can hold my own," she scoffed, smacking me on the shoulder. I couldn't help myself; I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close and kissing her temple. I didn't miss the look from my brothers around the table, either. Not that I paid them much mind about it.

"You think you've got what it takes, princess?" I teased, not even caring that I'd used her honorific in front of the group of them. It's not like they were unaware of what was going on between us.

"Oh, I can throw down in a game of Texas Hold'em. Trust me on that, Sir ," she sassed, making sure to use my honorific in the truest of bratty tones.

"Oh, you sweet, innocent child," Deacon chuckled as he stood up, walking over to the cabinet in the corner to pull out the deck of cards. "You think we're playing poker?"

"Aren't we?" she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion .

"Nope," Jax interjected.

"Then what are we playing?"

Deacon took his seat once more, pulling the cards from their sheath and shuffling them expertly as Jax rejoined us at the table. "The game's called Go Fish."

"Are you fucking serious?" Maddy chuckled, and then her face went serious. "Wait, are you for real serious right now?"

"Dead serious. Go Fish is serious business in this house," I whispered as I leaned in close to her.

"It's some cutthroat shit, Maddy-girl. Think you can handle it?" Sully teased, leaning over the table on his elbows.

"Sully, I think the better question is, are you prepared to admit defeat? Because you're going down, man. All the way down." Sully guffawed, sitting back in his chair with a clap of his hands.

"I like this girl, Niko. Don't fuck it up." The words surprised me. Things between Maddy and me were casual, just a means to pass the time. Weren't they?

As I looked beside me at Maddy picking up the cards Deacon dealt out, I wasn't so sure anymore.

But with that, the game was on, providing a blessed distraction from that confusing line of thinking.

"Sully, do you have any threes?" I asked, staring him down. Sully was the easiest of the five of us to read, Maddy not included. She was brand new to us all, none of us knew her tells. Yet.

"Go Fish, motherfucker!" Sully guffawed. I rolled my eyes, but drew my card, smiling triumphantly as I showed everyone the three that I drew on my first shot .

"Looks like I made a catch, so I get to go again! Deacon, do you have any threes?" He shook his head, so I drew another card, this time an eight. I nodded to Sully, indicating I was done. Not a bad start!

"Jax, do you have any Queens?" Sully asked, fiddling with his cards. Jax pulled one card from his hand, sliding it across the table face up without showing a single sign of emotion. Honestly, he was likely the best card player among us. He had a knack for staying completely stoic, not revealing anything.

Taking his catch, Sully asked Maddy for Queens next and drew a card when she told him to go fish.

"Deacon, do you have any aces?" Jax asked, his eyes never leaving the cards.

"Nope. Head on down to the lake and get to fishin', buddy." Maddy had a good laugh at that. "Maddy, you got any fours?"

"Looks like you need to head on down to the lake yourself," she shot back with a smirk. She settled back in her chair, her eyes focused on her cards as I tried to read her, picking out any tell she may let slip.

"Sir…" she began, drawing low whistles and chuckles from the table. "Do you have any… threes?"

I was gobsmacked. Did she just—?

"Whoa ho ho… Maddy, I like your style," Deacon chuckled loudly. He wasn't one for much expression, especially around strangers. And to him, Maddy was definitely still a stranger. But he laughed as loud as anyone else, slowly clapping his hands as I growled.

"You'll pay for this, princess," I muttered, shooting her a bit of side-eye as I pulled the two cards from my hand and handed them to her.

"Why, thank you so much, Sir. How very generous of you." The little minx had the audacity to batt her fucking lashes at me as she set down her set of four threes.

"And Maddy pulls into an early lead!" Sully exclaimed, smiling widely. "Be careful, little lady, you're painting a target on your back."

"Oooh, I'm so scared," Maddy replied, pretending to shake in her boots. Everyone at the table laughed.

The game continued, growing increasingly cutthroat as the evening went on. Cards changed hands, books were laid down, and we all cursed and cheered in turn as the tides of luck shifted around the table in turns.

Through it all, my eyes kept sliding back to Maddy's face over and over. Watching her, seeing her genuine laughter and free-spirited glee as she joked around with my brothers, made me happy. There was a tiny kernel of something else deep in my gut, something I could not define and did not want to examine too closely.

Once all the cards were drawn and all the books laid down, Deacon ended up having the most books in front of him. He laughed heartily, flipping us all the bird with both hands.

"Take that, motherfuckers! That's how it's done." He said with playful mocking.

"Whatever, dude. I'll get you next time!" Maddy replied, throwing him a middle finger right back, a huge smile on her face. She had amassed the second-highest number of books, and the competition between the two of them had gotten fierce before the end.

We gathered the cards back up and passed them to Deacon, continuing to joke around. All except for Jax, who sat there somewhat dejectedly.

"Well, folks, that was one hell of a game, but I'd better call it a night," Deacon said as he put the cards back into their sheath.

"No kidding. I'm tired. Good game, Maddy. We should play more games together, yeah?" Sully added, nudging her shoulder as he walked past.

Jax simply stood and waved goodnight to us both, following the other two men up the stairs in silence.

"Don't mind Jax. He's a sore loser," I said quietly. We both sat at the table, an awkwardness settling over the room.

"Yeah, no worries." She nodded her head slowly. I had no idea why things felt so awkward all of a sudden. The night had been incredible. Hell, the whole day had been. So, why the hell were things so uncomfortable now?

"Well, I should get some sleep," I finally managed to mutter, stretching a bit, mostly for show.

"Yeah, me too."

Still, neither of us moved from our seats for a solid minute.

Finally, she rose from her chair, slapping her hands down on the table, a little too loudly. "Okay, well, goodnight then."

With that, she was gone, heading out of the room and back up the stairs to her own room.

And I was left sitting there like a dumb idiot.

Perfect.