Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
As my eyes bounce between his, my bewilderment grows. He can’t know what happened to Alek because Alek hasn’t told anyone. If I weren’t a witness to the commencement of our father’s assault that saw Alek spending weeks in the hospital, I doubt even I’d know. That is how tightly Alek guards his secrets.
When Yev’s face gives nothing away, I ask, “How do you know about that?”
“It is amazing what you can find out when you sit and listen.” He tilts forward until his elbow balances on his knee, and the tuft of hair he usually gels down is close to brushing my forehead. “But I’d rather not run on theories and lies. I prefer being told the truth directly from the source.”
I assume he’s referencing the injury Alek endured during our father’s brutal tirade, but realize otherwise when his remorseful eyes once again drink in the scar Vasily’s hand left when he backhanded me for the first time.
I could lie, but there is so much honesty being shared tonight, I’m confident he’d call me out as a liar within a second of it leaving my mouth. So instead, I tell the truth. “Vasily borrowed money from his boss to buy a new car. I thought his choice of vehicle was hideous. He didn’t appreciate my candor, especially since his father agreed with me.”
Yev’s voice brims with anger when he asks, “He hit you because you didn’t like his new ride?”
“No. It wasn’t a hit.” When he drinks in the scar again like he can’t believe it was caused by a slap, I mutter, “He was wearing a frat ring he got in college. It split my skin.”
He twists his lips, his expression mimicking one that reflected at me when I saw the welt for the first time in the mirror. I was so angry I wanted Vasily dead. Visiting my baby sister was the only thing that changed my mind.
“You can’t kill him.” When Yev shrugs like death would be too kind for a man like Vasily, I blurt out, “Or torture him. I need him to get to his father. Leon is a family man. He does everything for them.”
“Except raise them right,” Yev mutters under his breath. “I’m not comfortable with your ruse, Polly. You know as well as I do how fast one slap turns into a punch, one punch turns into ten hits, and then they bring in weapons more maiming than their fists.” My shoulders hang low until he adds with abated breath, “But I also trust your instincts. You’re smart as fuck, so if you truly believe this is the only way to help your father, I believe it too.”
I sling my arms around his neck and hug him tight. “Thank you.”
His trust means more to me than I could ever express.
He returns my embrace before telling me the temporary hold he’s placed on Vasily’s punishment comes with conditions. “I don’t want you alone with him. If whatever he’s planning can’t be in public, you need to come up with an excuse to make it a public affair.”
“Easy. We usually don’t associate unless his father is with us, and he’s not a fan of eating in.” I had no clue only days ago that Leon’s lack of contact was mainly Vasily’s doing. I thought I was clever and tactical.
Shows how much I know.
I swallow a lump in my throat when Yev breathes out slowly. “And…” Like the most suspenseful movie in the world, he keeps the plot twist a secret until the very last scene. “You have to tell Alek what happened once this is over.”
This demand isn’t as easy to approve as the first one. “All of it or just Vasily?” When his eyes expose he wants to remove the world from my shoulders, I shake my head. “I can’t. That isn’t an agreement I can make.”
“Do you really think his punishment will be worse than mine? I’m five seconds from ordering a pizza and praying like fuck the delivery boy delivers it cold so I can disperse some of my anger on anyone but you, and I don’t even like pizza.”
“You don’t like pizza?” This isn’t the right time for us to have this conversation, but my shock is too high to register that.
Who doesn’t like pizza?
Yev shakes his head. “It’s more from the triggers it surfaces than my taste buds’ dislike of being ladened down with grease, but I don’t eat it all the same.”
His eyes snap to mine when I say, “Do you want to talk about it?”
I’m genuinely offering to help him. Only one percent of my offer resides with me wanting to get the focus off myself.
Okay, maybe it’s more of a fifty-fifty share.
When the tension switches from flirty to moody, I say, “I can’t tell Alek because he will blame himself. You see a man with a rock-hard, unbreakable shell. I see a boy who still carries the death of our mother heavily on his shoulders.” I’m confessing secrets I shouldn’t be sharing, but once they start spilling, I can’t hold them back. “Alek believes if he hadn’t provoked our father that night, he wouldn’t have killed our mother when she tried to stop him.”