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“You said we wouldn’t move anymore, Papa!”
“I’m sorry, malchik,” Yevgeniy replies. “But the bad man found us again. But maybe this will be the last time. But as long as all of us are together, we’ll be fine.”
“Yeah!” he giggles. “Together.”
We don’t drive for long before we park in front of a squat gray house at the end of a cul-de-sac. The roof is sagging from water rot. When I step out, I stumble on the divots and cracks in the beaten-up driveway. This house looks more abandoned than the last one.
“It may not look like much,” Yevgeniy says from the passenger side of the car, “but we’ll be safe here.”
I scoff internally at that. Safe isn’t a word I’ll ever associate with Yevgeniy.
Ruslan dashes from the van, grabbing my mother by the elbow. “Mama! Let’s go inside! I want to see my new room!”
“It’s not set up with your video games yet,” Yevgeniy warns.
“That’s okay! Mama and I can go play something else together!”
I tighten up and stare hotly at the small boy. His open possessiveness of my mother is making my hackles rise. She was my mom long before you knew she existed. I know it’s silly to be angry at Ruslan, but after seeing how battered and bruised Mom was by Yevgeniy, I’m feeling protective. He’s only a kid, and she won’t chide him if he yanks on her bruises or sore muscles.
She’ll take the abuse … just like she does from his father.
She sees me looking and sends me a light smile. Her eyes assure me that she’s fine. Allowing Ruslan to guide the way, she follows him into the house.
“Don’t they look picture perfect?” Yevgeniy asks beside me. I didn’t notice him creep up. His shadow drapes over mine on the ground. I hate even that part of us touching. I step to the side.
“Whatever you say,” I mumble.
“You disagree?” When I don’t respond, he puts his hands in his pockets, sighing. “A devoted daughter should be happy to see her family reunited.”
“You’re not my family,” I growl.
“I’m the only family you have.”
I whirl around to glare up at him. Yevgeniy watches me with infuriating calmness. “Just because you’re forcing us together doesn’t make you family. You’ll never be my father.”
“I shouldn’t have waited so long to reunite with Katya.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Stepan poisoned your mind against me.”
“Stepan raised me!” I snarl. “And even if you raised me, I wouldn’t be oblivious to what a monster you are. I’m not like Ruslan.”
That makes him flinch. “I love my son. Just as I love you.”
“You don’t give a fuck about me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, moya dorogaya doch,” he says softly, and there is no hiding the pain in his voice. “I will always love my children.”
Turning, he strides into the house, leaving me standing in the cold, feeling more confused than ever.
The bed is stiff, but it’s clean. I’m pretty sure Yevgeniy must have hired someone to give the house a quick once-over before we arrived since the silken sheets don’t match the grotesque exterior. He has enough money to uproot his life weekly. Paying a cleaner is chump change, I bet.
I’m lying across the bed when my mother enters the room. “Mamochka!” I blurt, sitting up sharply. “Are you okay?”
She waves a hand at me dismissively. Her arms circle her body as if she’s cold, but the room is overly warm. “Of course.”
“You’ve been playing with Ruslan for over two hours,” I say pointedly.
“Yes, and what of it? He’s just a child. He can’t hurt me, malyshka.”
“I guess not,” I say cautiously, “not like his father.”
