44. Ana

FORTY-FOUR

Ana

V lad is a liar but Dima isn't. He thinks it's true.

It can't be. He called me a different name and he cares about his family.

He has a daughter, and he loves her, protects her.

If he's my dad why didn't he do that for me? Because I'm evil?

No, he's confused. I'm right.

Shaking my head to build my conviction, it fits itself between my anger as I say, "You don't know anything."

His frustration comes out and he takes a step back, grabbing his head with both hands. I feel bad about his daughter if she's real, but it's not me. There's real pain on Vlad's face and in his voice as he shouts things that are making me question the world.

"You have a scar on your shoulder, the size of my thumb because I couldn't wait outside anymore when I heard you cry and the dickhead doctor was shaking so he ended up fucking cutting you."

He takes a step closer.

"I know that I called you solnyshkuh because you were born at the exact time the sun came up."

Another step.

I take one back.

"You slept in the same crib as Tali, and he would tap your shoulder when you'd cry during the night. He always gave you his finger to hold when you were falling asleep and you wouldn't let go of it, all through the night you'd hold it."

My eyes go behind him and Tali stares at me with watery eyes.

"Valentin would tickle your left foot, not your right one because you hated it and you would kick him in the face. He'd pretend to smell your feet and you'd laugh when he'd pull a face like it smelt bad but then he'd tickle you and that laugh would get louder."

Looking at Val, he's the same with unblinking watery eyes.

"I know when he'd have a tantrum you'd pull his hair and refuse to let go until he kissed your cheek. He'd pretend to cry but you wouldn't stop pulling. He'd always whine and say ‘Vanya, hurting' but you would only let go when he kissed your cheek."

Something warm touches my cheek, and he takes another step closer.

"You'd giggle. At everything, my happy baby girl."

Shut up!

"I know that you always smiled at me. Even when you were sick, you'd open those eyes and fucking smile. Every. Time."

My back touches a cold wall and a scream is ripped from my throat.

"Shut the fuck up!"

Stop lying.I need him to stop. It doesn't make sense. It's wrong. That's not me. She was cared for, loved. I wasn't.

I know things, I know who I am now, Dima knows too. I look at him and he's moved with me, his arm is still in front of me, and he's lost like me. I'm not real, I'm a ghost again.

No, I'm Ana, Yulia named me.

Vlad hardens and he grows taller, eclipsing everything in sight with his roar as he slams his hand against his chest. "I know your name isn't Ana. It's Vanya because I fucking gave you it!" His face falls, breathing heavy, as he achingly whispers, "You're my gift, my Vanya."

He's wrong.

I have proof and my hands shake as I push my bag off my shoulders. I have proof. B. Vanya isn't a B. It's real and not made up because I can hold it in my hand. Dima strokes my back as I empty the pocket and hold up the small scrap of fabric, clutching it like a lifeline to my sanity.

"B, not V. You're wrong."

Everything moves closer to me, and I try to make myself smaller by bringing my shoulders forward. Dima doesn't, he gets bigger and protectively stands by my side, his shoulder covering mine, but he doesn't block my face as he keeps his arm outstretched like a bar.

Vlad moves his head to see the torn blanket. His lips curve up in a genuine smile, no malice, as he says, "That was your corner, Valentin would always steal your blanket from you, and you only ever wanted that corner. You would rub the frills between your fingers."

I'm seeing things because water pushes against his lower lashes as he rubs his thumb and forefinger together, reliving a memory I wasn't in.

A hoarse croak has me looking towards Val and he shatters everything as he says, "I gave it to Viktor when he was born." He swallows around a lump in his throat and his voice lowers to a whisper. "It doesn—doesn't have a corner."

No, he's wrong. Anything could have happened. I'm arguing with myself but I hold it up so they can see as I look at each of them individually. "It has a B on it."

Val nods and his eyes are red as I repeat, "Look, a B." He nods and sniffs once as I move on to Tali. His eyes are redder, matching the tip of his nose. "B?" He does the same nod as he shakily breathes.

Vlad stares at me, each second forces more reflections on his eyeballs and he silently begs me. I hold it higher and my voice lowers, begging him in return, begging all of them.

"It has a B on it."

He shouts for a pen without looking away from me and Tali passes him a marker. Vlad looks away from me for the first time as he draws on his palm.Once he's done playing tic tac toe on himself, he turns his hand around and I can't read it.

Ваня

The plea in his voice is fucking with my head.

"Vanya, Cyrillic not a B. I wrote your name on it so they wouldn't take it off you. It was your corner, and Valentin would steal it because he thought it was funny until you'd start pulling his hair and trying to bite him. Vanya. Not B."

I shake my head, holding the torn edge of the blanket up with two hands so they can all see. "It has a B on it. B, not Vanya, B."

Dima remains a silent wall at my side as he slowly drops his arm and Vlad steps forward, still begging.

"I can tell you the exact day I gave it to you. How you'd play with the frills," a weak smile lifts his lips, "silk, that's what they're made from. You liked the feeling of it and all three of you would lay on it when I'd put you on my bed."

Vlad moves closer, leaving a two-foot gap as the walls close in on me, and another beg confuses me.

"Vanya, I wrote it, look," he pushes his palm towards me, "it's my writing. I wrote it."

There's only one person I trust, and I look up at Dima. He has red eyes too but he slowly nods his head once, sadness pulling his features down and lowers his voice.

"It's in Russian, it says Vanya."

All the air is sucked out of the room, and I close my eyes because they're all lying.It has to be a lie, if I'm not B or Ana then I really am a ghost. I'm not a person, I'm not real.

Hands touch me that aren't Dima's, they try to pull me into an embrace but only manage to drag my anger out as I swing, pushing them away. I don't care who it is, Dima is beside me keeping me safe and tears blur my vision as I blink. There's nothing but pain in my voice as I wipe them away with the back of my hand.

"Why did you leave me with them?"

I know Yulia would take advantage of people that way, but this is Vlad, he's a killer.

He stands in front of me, a lump in his throat and pain in his eyes, as he takes in a deep breath then shakily blows it out, refusing to fucking answer me. I don't care that he's injured as I kick him in the thigh, screaming, "Tell me you're a liar!"

Still no fucking answer. He's like Marlo and this is another lie, it all started with Marlo lying about who my dad was and now it's another lie about the same fucking topic. But he doesn't hit me back, Vlad steps forward and softly smiles, waiting for another blow.

Vlad, the nutcase who threw me on the side of the road because I wouldn't tell him my name isn't the same emotional person in front of me. That Vlad wouldn't be silent or allow me to hit him. He has marks on his face, his nose is broken, a cut swelling on his cheek, and I haven't been hit back. Even Tali would hit me back if I did that to him.

But he doesn't fucking answer me when I beg, "Did you sell me?"

Silence.

I take the gun from Dima's holster and the click of the safety is like a gavel slamming down, demanding he gives me the truth. The psycho steps towards it as Val and Tali stare at each other, then Dima as though they're asking him for help with the lost look on their faces.

Dima doesn't stop me as I press the gun to the center of Vlad's chest. Vlad, who doesn't have any fear and his voice is the new, soft one as he smiles with watery eyes.

"Do it," he nods, still softly smiling at me, "I buried myself with you once and I'll die happy, knowing my daughters are safe."

He's still not fucking answering me! My question comes out in one word that requires so much more than one answer.

"Why?"

Why wasn't I worth keeping?

Why does he care now?

Why didn't he love me?

Why is he telling me?

Why is he hurting me?

A single tear rolls down his cheek as his voice cracks.

"Because I thought you were dead." His face turns red, and he wraps his fingers around my wrist to maintain the pressure of the gun against his chest. "I fucking buried you with my own hands, dug through the frozen ground and left my daughter, my baby girl, in it."

I try to pull my hand free but he presses his thumb over my finger on the trigger, pushing his chest harder against the weapon that's definitely going to kill him.

"Do it, solnyshkuh," he whispers, smiling again, "if it will make you happy, do it."

My knees aren't strong enough to keep me standing. My entire life was a game, and I was right — I did die. I died before I lived and it's Yulia's special fucking plan of switching babies.She would make me do it when one of them had died from the things she'd put them through, and I'd have to check they'd match — weight, hair color, eye color, length. Everything had to match and I hated going to the hospitals to swap them when her doctors said the coast was clear.

My arm is limp, falling to my side, as I squirm away from Vlad's touch. Dima wraps his arms around me and hugs me to his chest with my arm still extended as Vlad's thumb twitches on top of mine. My cheek is pressed directly over Dima's heart and it's too much effort to breathe with all the fog inside my head. He's the only thing keeping me standing as he wraps his hand around the top of the gun and his chest vibrates as he says, "Let go of it, don't scare her."

My other arm drops as I push my face closer to his chest and it all hurts. I didn't do anything to anyone, why was it me?

Tears fill his voice as he picks me up and presses his lips to my temple. "I've got you, lisichka."

My body is shaking, I can't breathe, it hurts too much. The pain intensifies when I look out from Dima's chest and all three Vartanovs are staring at me.

Val's eyes are even more red as he slowly looks from the back of Vlad's head to me. Tali is frozen, tears slipping through his stubble and dripping from his jaw.

A whimper gets stuck in my throat because they keep staring, at my eyes, and Marlo's voice is in my head. Evil eyes . This is why I was supposed to hide them, and I can't get him to shut up. Bringing my hands up, I cover my ears to drown it out as I avoid Vlad. I can feel his eyes on me, and I don't have anything to say.His bloodied, inked hands raise in my periphery, they reach out to me as though he's going to cover my ears and my whimper gets louder as I flinch away from him, deeper into Dima. His face falls but his hands stay in the air and I hate that I look at him. Tears clear lines through the blood on his face, leaving pink paths as he keeps fucking staring at me.

The one thing I made up for comfort is killing me. My dream world when I was B, and I had a dad who would protect me is real. But he couldn't, no one could when I'm not real, I'm dead. He said it, that he buried me, because Ana isn't a real person and B isn't either. I've never done anything good, I didn't save B so she could be safe, and Marlo was right. He and Yulia were both right.

I'm the one who has a dad and I don't even fucking like him. It's dumb but I focus on that. He's an asshole and a crazy person, but he stares at me with hope. I cling to the only thing I have left, hiding my face in Dima's chest, while I plot how I'll torture Yulia. She's going spend the rest of my life being an outlet. Every fucking time I get angry or hurt, I'll push it so deep under her skin that the emotion doesn't exist within me.

Lips touch the back of my head and I hold Dima tighter as Vlad whispers, "Hate me, solnyshkuh. I'll make sure you're safe from now." His breath shakes and he adds even quieter, for my ears only. "I'm sorry, Vanya. I love you, my happy baby."

His tone hardens to something more dangerous than he's ever used before as he steps back. "If you hurt her, I'll make you wish for death."

I don't know who the threat is for, but Dima's chin brushes the top of my head.He doesn't let me out of his arms as he tries to walk out of the warehouse. I can't unlock my muscles to do it, and he lifts me, his arms circling around me so tightly that they force me to breathe.

Dima doesn't sit me in the passenger seat, he gets in the car with me still wrapped around him, one hand holding the back of my head while the other strokes down my back. My sobs come faster, and I can't stop the words coming out.

"Why does everyone hate me?"

It's always been me. From birth I've been hated. What the fuck did I do in a past life or is it something inside of me that automatically requires loathing?

He squeezes my nape, pulling me out of the crook of his neck, the redness in his eyes makes the silver starker and he cups my face, wiping away my tears as they continue falling with his thumbs.

"No one hates you, it's impossible, lisichka."

That's worse. If it was hate that made them do all this at least there was a reason. Instead, I'm a pawn in some fucking game of power that Marlo and Yulia had planned.

My voice shakes as I try to calm my breathing.

"I have a name."

It's not B, she's not in a forest but it's?—

"Vanya, it suits you."

Dima cuts my thoughts off and he says my name for the first time. He's never called me Ana before, and it feels right because she's fake, this is real. It's all real, I have parents and they thought I was dead. I have a mom somewhere and she'll brush my hair and tell me stories. A dad who cried when he's not capable of emotions, he's a sociopath and I'm a psycho because I inherited it.

I cry harder because I don't want him to be my dad, he's annoying and I always thought my dad would be fun. He'd be nice and play games with me that don't involve fucking with my head, and my mom would be nice too, she'd read me stories about the moon. My dad wouldn't be a fucking crazy person and I'd be normal too. We'd all be normal together.

I shake as I cry, "I don't want a weird freak as my dad."

Now all my comforts have been tainted and I don't have them anymore, I have nothing. The stories that I made up are gone, the little secrets I hid in my mind have been ruined and it's like the bouncy ball. Like my sticker when Dima ripped it. They're all gone.

Dima just holds me and strokes my hair with his lips pressed against my forehead as he attempts to calm me.

"I've got you. No one will make you do anything you don't want to." He hugs me and allows me to break with all the confusion while reassuring me. "Only you get to decide who you are. I know you, lisichka, you're real and you're mine."

I hug him back as the feeling returns to my limbs and I take out the pendant on his chain. My smiley face stares back at me as he continues whispering, "My hellion, my beautiful woman."

Once my tears stop, all the anger floods my system. Dima knows me too well and he's not being anything other than helpful as he asks, "Want to kill someone?"

Movement through the back window gets my attention and Vlad stops dead in his tracks, he doesn't do anything as he stares at me. He doesn't blink or look away, the lump growing in his throat, and he looks wrong. The blood has been wiped from his face, but he's paler and his eyes look creepy with the icy blue surrounded by red and only the moonlight illuminating him. I hug Dima tighter and rest my chin on his shoulder as I watch him, waiting for anything to give away that this is all a lie. A laugh, a smirk, anything.

But he doesn't do any of them as his phone lights up. Without looking away from me, he brings it to his ear and the first normal Vlad emotion crosses his face — rage. He stares at me as he walks backwards to his car and I focus on Dima.

He asked me a question and I smile, knowing there's only one person left. "Not someone, Yulia."

He can't come with me. She'll hurt him and I'll lose everything, so I keep my plans hidden and kiss his cheek. He doesn't let me do anything alone, he'll attach himself to me and not care about the danger. Yulia isn't like normal people or the other sick fucks he's been around. She's twisted, her mind is worse than Marlo's and she's a planner so she can't know he exists, or he'll be like bouncy ball, and she'll melt him.

Climbing into my seat so I can get everything in order, I give a silent apology for what I'm about to do and hurting my favorite person. Dima deserves a happy life, not one that I keep messing up by just existing. All he wanted was to go somewhere today but he doesn't mention it as we drive home. Even when his father turned up, it was overshadowed by Nina, because of me. As soon as Yulia is dead I'll say sorry and promise not to do it again. Yeah, I'll promise to be a better person and never hurt him again so that he keeps me.

I go to the one contact I have that always knows everything and Amon doesn't make me wait for the information I need.

Me:

I want the address

Amon:

She's landing in LaGuardia in two hours

Don't tell anyone else

You'll have one hour alone. Use it wisely.

How the fuck is she already here?

Vlad.

Turning back to look at the devil, he's standing beside his car, his phone still at his ear, and staring after us as Dima drives away. He hasn't moved from his spot, and he was going to take my revenge from me.

Asshole.

I deserve it more, I lived under her boot for sixteen years, and when you're born with a boot on your neck you do anything you can just to be able to breathe.I'm wrong, evil, everything they said about me because I only ever wanted to breathe but my air was dependent on doing the sickening things they wanted. So if anyone is going to kill her, it's me. Not Vlad who hasn't been affected by her, he got to have a life, a family, I don't. I was left to be Ana, a ghost, a person who doesn't exist.

Amon's an asshole too, he told people we're friends and can't even fucking do this for me. Two hours isn't enough time. I need to keep her alive for years and then she'll die when I'm bored of torturing her.

Inessa's messages come through and I try not to look at them, but my finger moves while my mind protests.

Inessa

Don't hate him please. He loves you and thinks about you every day. I swear to you that he didn't know, Vlad would not have left you behind if he did. He didn't do it when he thought you'd died, and visits the grave every year so he could feel close to you. Take all the time you need, we're family and we're not going anywhere. We love you Vanya (I'll call you Ana if you prefer to keep that name)

I turn my phone off to focus on the last moments I'll have with Dima. He always kisses my hand when he's driving, and I do the same to his.His smile is soft as he threads his fingers through mine then kisses the back of my scuffed knuckles. His thumb gently massages the side of my finger and he kisses each of my fingers individually in between his whispered promise.

"You'll be safe, lisichka, I won't let anyone hurt you."

I hope he won't hate me.

The wish repeats on a loop as I bring his hand to my lips again and stare at the side of his face. If he hates me, I won't be able to breathe, but I need him to be safe.

"My lock," I mumble into the back of his hand.

He turns to look at me as we drive through the empty streets from the warehouse. His voice is softer, filled with emotion, as he says, "Then you're the key to my life. Without you, I would have nothing, be nothing. One day you'll have everything, krasotka."