9. Anastasia

NINE

Anastasia

T here are so many words in a multitude of languages that Vitali could have picked over champ. Fucking champ . “Asshole.”

He ignores my mood as I cuss at him and taps away on his phone then throws it on the bed when he’s done. I couldn’t find Genevieve’s phone in his pockets, but there was a bunch of prescription pain meds that have me biting my tongue. My eyes itch to inspect his knee and check if it’s inflamed or hurting him. The bottles were sealed, and I couldn’t see the labels to check if they’re old prescriptions; they must be though because he doesn’t do drugs and Vlad doesn’t allow anyone on his teams to do them because it makes them unreliable.

I’m working up the nerve to ask him, which will add conversation to our arrangement, when he leans over me and the authority in his voice has me agreeing before I’ve registered the question.

“Be here when I get out?”

I don’t have any clothes I can walk out in, and I’d rather not be interrogated by his family, so I agree. Or that’s the excuse I’m going to use to rationalize it to myself. I’ve got a long list, starting with the fact his products are better than mine and my skin feels as soft as a baby, it ends with the look in his eyes and the smile on his face as he presses a chaste kiss to my lips.

He’s dangerous with his smiles and easy nature. I’m going to get lost in him and I’m already mourning the day he’ll no longer be there. A very stupid, hopeful part of me enjoys his company and begs to give into him, to plummet into the abyss of his happiness. But I kill it, just like he told me to, and remain still despite my hands going to his chest to check his temperature.

All night he was burning up like the sun, but now his body temperature is back to normal, and I can relax. I kept checking his airways and trying to cool him down, but the windows don’t open and I had to swap out the damp towels every hour. After a semi sleepover I now know why Vitali eats so much, he’s restless in sleep and can’t regulate his own body temperature.

He kisses my cheek before he pushes up and walks away; his limp is more pronounced, and he hides his pain as he walks through the closet to his bathroom.

Stretching out on his bed, I wince as my muscles twinge, happy at being sore. I don’t remember leaving the apartment or coming into the house. I fell asleep wrapped in his arms and woke up in the same position in a different room to him telling me to drink water. My impulsiveness to run away from Genevieve has landed me in another pile of shit and he’ll run his mouth, proving everyone’s rumors true. The philosophy of a teenager isn’t the same as an adult; becoming the Stasi who existed on their tongues kept the old me safe, protected. But it’s lonely as fuck.

The air in my lungs freezes as a soft knock lands on the closed door. Moving silently, I hide in Vitali’s closet and wait for whoever it is to let themselves in. Please don’t be Inessa. She’s the only person who knew me before I became a bitch and the coke head. I went from spending time at her house daydreaming about our lives like normal little girls to dismissing her at every opportunity I could, and she followed me into the ice without ever shutting me out.

Dani’s voice is closer than I thought it would be and I push myself into the gap behind the door.

“Tali? Why do you want my clothes?”

Something sours in my gut when she walks towards the bathroom door and my hands ball into fists as she presses against the handle. I knew they were friends and the Vartanovs are close, but not close enough to watch your brother-in-law fucking shower. It settles a fraction when she opens it a crack to hear him speak to himself then turns to face the other way only.

“If she’s left I’m fucking handcuffing her to me.”

They act more like siblings as Dani leans against the door, smirking around her interrogation of who she is.

“Oh yeah, who are you handcuffing to you? Your imaginary friend?”

Why is it making me feel better that his attention is on me rather than the clearly gorgeous woman he’s talking to? I’m not jealous or possessive over people; there will never be a person who belongs to me, and I accept it because expectation is a bigger killer than longing could ever be.

Vitali steps out of the bathroom in a towel and storms through, cursing when he sees the empty room, with Dani on his heels.

“Tell me who she is, please. We tell each other everything.”

Her begging doesn’t work, and I’m hiding between them as Vitali comes back into the closet to get dressed. I’m a grown-ass woman hiding behind a door, listening to him grumble, “She’s a fucking menace, and you don’t tell me shit since you replaced me with Val.”

I’ve never noticed how he hides his hurt behind jokes. His voice is the usual playful puppy, but he doesn’t smile around it and I freeze when he moves closer, staring at the small gap I’m peering through.

His smirk is slow and sinister as I shake my head with wide eyes. He slowly curls his fingers around the edge of the wood and the asshole is going to drag me out into his nosey-ass family wearing nothing but his T-shirt. The smile slips before he quickly picks it back up and stretches through the gap palming my face. His callouses scrape against my cheek and he rakes his fingers against my nape, pulling me closer to him but not into sight of his sister-in-law.

My body is still hypersensitive from the many hours of last night and I lean into his warmth while he continues his conversation like I’m not here and he isn’t caressing my face. The only comfort my body is accustomed to is the one that’s done for an audience, putting on an image of care while never being able to maintain it behind closed doors. This isn’t for other eyes; he’s not touching me to fuck me, but he wants to and it means more that it’s done absentmindedly.

When their conversation comes to an end and Dani leaves, Vitali slowly pulls the door away, revealing my hiding spot.

“There’s my girl. Who you hiding from, sweetness?”

Soreness be damned, I pull him to me and slam my lips over his. It’s partly to reassert that whatever this is, is only ever physical and just because I want to feel close to him again. His hands go to my hips, pulling me closer as he groans in frustration and moves his mouth away from mine. He closes his eyes, breathing through his nose, resting our foreheads together.Once he’s regulated his breathing, his eyes snap open and disappointment mixes with excited anger.

“I’d love to fuck you again, but I’ve got to go to beat the shit out of some kid’s dad.”

A laugh bursts out of me from how seriously he says it and I fall against his chest, unable to stop. His knuckles press under my chin, titling my face up to him, and he doesn’t stay fixed in one spot, staring at every feature individually.

“You have a beautiful laugh.”

The words are so low they kill the sound in my throat, and he blocks my exit while I freeze. He doesn’t look like he’s lying but I’ve never allowed my laugh to be heard since I was always told that sounding like a braying donkey isn’t attractive.His hands move across any part of my body he can reach as he finally steps back and leads me out of the closet. There are three dresses laid on the bed; none of them are my usual style of uncomfortable and stuck to my ass like my mother prefers.

Tali softly kisses my cheek as he says equally softly, “Spend the day with me and I’ll give you the phone.”

Asshole. I fucking knew he hid it.

I pick up the first dress I touch and pull his T-shirt over my head, making sure I stretch the material out before replacing it with the soft cashmere knit. It’s like being wrapped in a cloud and hugged by it at the same time; there’s no awkward strap digging into my shoulder, or embellishments scratching my arms. I’ve been uncomfortable for so long that it’s become my baseline of life. It started mentally until I let my mother take over every aspect of my life to reduce the battle. That’s the reason I want to curl up in a ball with the soft material and why I don’t move as he wraps his arms around me. He kisses the top of my head, not my cheek or my lips, an innocent kiss to my crown. My eyes close and he hugs me tighter as though he’s aware of everything I keep hidden.

The softness isn’t just in his actions; it flows into his speech as he says against the strands, “I’ve got a theory.”

I hum, waiting for whatever dumb idea he’s had now, but he chooses depth.

“Some people feel so much that they shut down. They’re so used to being alone that the thought of it changing frightens them.” His arms coil around me tighter, preventing my escape as I stop breathing and he continues, “But they’re the ones who need it the most, they need the company to make the loneliness easier because it never actually leaves.”

My voice is muffled and weak as I ask, “Are you lonely?”

He kisses my crown again and strokes across my jaw line to tilt my chin up. I’m shorter than him without my heels and have to look up. The comfort of my feet not aching adds to the peace wrapping around me from his gaze as he slowly leans into me, his low admission tickling my lips.

“Will you stay if I say yes?”

My lips part, ready to come up with an excuse, but no sound leaves me, and I nod. He softly kisses me. He doesn’t push his tongue in my mouth or hold my ass. He kisses me without any lust and only pure emotion. I lean into him, not wanting it to end, and he smiles, pulling back, breaking the connection. There’s no taunt on his lips despite the thoughts dancing behind his eyes as he sways us from side to side.

“You want to avoid the crazies, don’t you?”

I wish I could hide under his bed until it’s dark in the hopes that none of the guards see me. They’re worse than his family and Tali hardens as he stops swaying to cup my cheek. He takes a controlled breath, removing the emotion from his voice.

“Come on, Asya, I’ll say you’re helping me.”

He walks me backwards to sit on the edge of his bed and grabs my shoes to put them on for me. There’s no sexual comment or lingering touch as he pulls my boots up to my knees and does the zip. I’m mute due to the action; he’s not supposed to do shit like this and for some stupid reason I’m not stopping him.

Once he’s done, he takes my hand and walks us out of the room while I’m still dazed. He doesn’t take the elevator and chooses the smaller staircase that leads to the back of the house. The warmth wrapped around my hand leaves when we reach the last step, and he rolls his shoulders as he pulls the widest smile on his face and gestures to a side door.

“Get in the car, sweetness, I need to get Vik.”

I nod as I take the keys he holds out to me and reinforce my spine and shoulders before I force one foot in front of the other and ignore the voices of his family behind me to leave the house. Dima and Vanya are standing together in the hallway, and they don’t see me as they talk in hushed tones. They’re both loved up, it’s cute especially because she’s a psycho. Sweat beads down my spine as I pull the door open, and the guards notice me. They give me a once over and start whispering amongst themselves as I descend the steps. All I need to do is make it to the car.

The whispering stops abruptly as I get in the car, and I stupidly think it’s due to the door blocking it out until Vitali walks out of the front door with his nephew following after him. Viktor looks like his mini me as he remains on alert; the seriousness doesn’t leave his features as he climbs into the car, and we drive in silence. I thought he was joking about beating the shit out of some kid’s dad, but it must be true as the child gives directions.

Viktor usually tells me about the gossip from school, but he’s quiet as we drive to meet Vitali’s opponent. I hate bullies; Marta was mine before her father married my mother and then I had to share a room with the bitch. Turning to get his attention, I try not to look at the partial heterochromia that makes one eye have a dark tear-shaped blob staining his iris. It’s fascinating, in a dark, fucked up way with the knowledge of how he got it.

That information and his bullies are what harden my tone.

“Is someone giving you shit?”

He’s more than capable of handling it himself after stabbing a grown man in the dick but the psychological bullshit is worse. His eyes go to the back of Vitali’s head, and he smirks, trying to hide whatever’s going to leave his mouth.

“Where did you sleep last night, Stasi?”

Every Vartanov is born with the ability to render people mute and I underestimated him as my face heats.

I right myself in my seat and look out of the window. The little fucking shit laughs, focusing on his uncle. “I’m telling Mom you’ve got a girlfriend.” Vitali is an even bigger child and reaches through the seats without looking away from the road and grabs Viktor’s knee.

“Try it, and I’ll tell Val about Grace.”

Watching their back and forth warms something in my chest.

“No, you said you wouldn’t, he’ll end up being annoying and hugging her or something,” he whines and they continue arguing.

It all ends as soon as Viktor points at a street and says, “It’s this one.” His nose is nearly pressed to the glass as we pull up outside a large house and Vitali tenses. I’ve seen him fight but it’s never been with this much intense rage that it’s barely leashed.

“Stay here.”

He doesn’t even look at us as he gives his order and jumps out, walking towards a middle-aged man that’s taking something out of his garage. Viktor’s body blocks my view as he crawls into the driver’s seat and cracks the window to allow the sound of Vitali’s threats to carry inside.

“Heard you’re an amateur fighter.”

There’s too much darkness in his voice and my eyes follow the movement walking around the side of the house.

A little boy around Viktor’s age with his arm in a cast and his head down stays back, trying to blend into the wall. Fear contorts his features, but it’s solely focused on the bully parading as a grown-ass man. His shoulders hunch as Vitali stares at the adult and calls him over.

“Jax, come here. Let me sign your cast.”

Viktor’s nose is fully pressed to the glass, and I gently press against his shoulder so he’s not blocking my view as the boy sheepishly walks over. He isn’t afraid of the obvious violence; it’s directed at the man loosely holding a golf caddy.

The little Vartanov looks at me, incredulous. “I’m not getting out.”

I nod and crane my neck without removing my hand. “Yeah, but your big head was blocking me being able to see.”

His smile is in my periphery, and I shush him as Vitali writes something on the kid’s cast. We’re too far away to see what he writes, but he loves running his mouth and pride swells inside me at him defending someone he clearly doesn’t know.

“Listen, motherfucker, you touch a hair on his fucking head he’ll tell me. Won’t you, Jax?”

The kid quickly nods, filled with fear and Viktor laughs to himself. They’re all fucking psychotic.

Vitali leans into the other man, grabbing his wrist with both hands and a scream pierces the air. A woman rushes out of the house, a black eye poorly hidden under her concealer, making it grey. My words rush together over my shoulder, remembering there’s a child in the car as I unclip my belt.

“Stay here, Viktor.”

I’m not going to let that fucking scumbag beat his wife and son when they could have options. I have enough money with being the sole beneficiary of my dad’s estate and I don’t need all of it to live.

Forcing a smile on my face so she can see I’m not going hurt her, or cast judgemnt, I guide her to the side of the house and keep my tone even as I ask, “Would you like to leave him?”

Please say yes .

It’s the first step in the thousands of getting her life back and after hearing Katya’s nightmares when we lived together I can’t let someone else grow up in this shit. There’s a lump in her throat as she tries to lie.

“I’m clumsy sometimes, he loves us.”

He loves having power over them. The sick fuck.

As much as I want to force her to leave, I can’t. She’ll just end up going back to him. All cycles of abuse are the same and I’ve seen it with the older kids we manage to find. The longer someone is surrounded by a toxic environment, it alters their mind and perception on reality. So, I give her the option as I give her my number and Inessa’s details in case she needs the help Steorra can offer.

“If you need anything, you can call at any time, no judgment or questions.”

I don’t try to convince her to change her mind when the fucker is crying in earshot. She smiles at the sound of his wailing, but it quickly falls. It’s fucked up; every situation of abuse, the assholes manage to make themselves into the one who gets sympathy. It hurts them to cause pain, they don’t want to do it, it’s all a tactic to have the person pliable and miss the noose they tie around their neck.

I tilt my shoulders so we both have a clear view as Vitali forces the man’s hands above his head and he pulls until the sniveling mess looks like a ballerina.

“Jax,” he says with a smile as he gestures to the dickhead. “Keep your shoulders straight and push the opposite foot back when you swing.”

The little boy stares up at him like he’s just met Santa Claus and Tali pulls his arm back as he demonstrates how to punch.

“Like this, if you punch him in the di—privates he won’t be able to breathe, go on.”