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I pinch the bridge of my nose, but the tension in my skull doesn’t ease. It’s been a constant, simmering pressure for weeks now. Since the last time I saw Luna.
“All I’m saying,” my mother continues, “is that Oksana and Tati are not trying to destroy our family from the inside. Inviting them over for tea isn’t going to put us in any risk. They have nothing to do with the Gustev Bratva.”
“That we know of,” I grit out for the third time. “We don’t know friend from foe right now. That is why we aren’t inviting people over.”
She crosses her arms, her pearls bouncing off her diamond tennis bracelet. She’s dressed to impress for an afternoon tea that absolutely won’t be fucking happening. “If you keep this up, we won’t have any friends left. Friendships need to be tended, Yakov. They are like plants. If you leave them unattended, they start to look like that mess of a garden in the backyard.”
“Next time Mariya and Nik get shot and the mother of my children is kidnapped, I’ll be sure to leave written instructions for the gardeners.”
“Why have a staff if you need to leave instructions?” she asks. “They should know what to do. You should fire and replace them.”
“I’ve been a little fucking busy, Mother.”
“Which is exactly why I need some company,” she retorts, circling the conversation back around. “I’m lonely in this big house all by myself.”
I’m tempted to suggest she go back to Moscow, but she’s made it clear she isn’t going anywhere. Not anytime soon, at least. I could have her removed if I truly wanted, but my father would roll over in his grave if I had my guards escort my mother out of the house she raised me in. There are some lines even a pakhan shouldn’t cross.
My phone rings and I answer it quickly. No matter who is on the other end of the call, it has got to be better than this conversation.
“This is Yakov.”
“Mr. Kulikov?” Dr. Tung says in her usually clipped efficiency. “I’m calling about your brother?—”
“What’s wrong with him?” I ask, heart already in my throat. Worst-case scenarios flash through my mind. He’s unconscious again. He flatlined. He’s dead.
“Who is it? Is that about Nik?” my mother asks.
“Nothing is wrong with him. Well, aside from the paralysis, but—” Dr. Tung sighs. “I thought you should know that Nikandr is checking himself out of the hospital.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that he will be leaving the hospital this afternoon and will no longer be under my care or supervision.”
“Unacceptable,” I snap. “Check him back in. He hasn’t finished physical therapy.”
“That’s what I told him. He didn’t take my advice and I don’t actually have any legal capacity to detain him. Nikandr is ready to leave, so he is checking out today.”
“How am I just finding out about this now?”
“I shouldn’t even be telling you this much, but he is technically still in my care and you are still listed as his contact information,” she says. “But give it two more hours and I won’t be able to tell you anything about Nikandr’s situation. He’ll no longer be my patient.”
“He can’t just check himself out,” I snarl. Even though he apparently very much can.
My mother leans in closer. “Who is checking out? Is Nik coming home?”
I turn away from her and press a finger into my other ear to focus.
“He is an adult,” Dr. Tung is saying. “This isn’t a prison or a mental facility. As I said, I don’t have any legal means to keep him here against his will. He wants to leave and he plans to.”
“The fuck he will,” I spit, hanging up without bothering to say goodbye.
“Is Nik coming home?” my mother asks again. “Was that the doctor?”
I don’t answer her; I’m too busy dialing Nik’s number. The asshole lets it ring ten times before he finally picks up.
“You can’t change my mind,” he chimes breezily.
“Check yourself back in right this fucking second, man. You aren’t leaving.”
