AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“You’re telling the truth?” Ian pushed Alek’s hair from his face.
“I haven’t lied,” Alek snapped. “The water was hot and I got light-headed. End of story.”
Ian lifted his palms. “I believe you. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let this happen. ”
“Please.” Alek rolled his eyes. “Only you would apologize forgiving me the best orgasm of my life. Can you help me out? I’m cold.”
Ian hoisted Alek from the tub. At least Alek didn’t swoon.
Alek shuffled back to their room with Ian trailing overbearingly close behind. By the time Alek got to the bed, another cold sweat wet his brow. With Ian’s assistance, Alek lowered onto his back.
“Be right back.” Ian disappeared into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with mouthwash, a wet rag, and an empty glass.
Alek gargled and spat into the cup Ian held out, then cleaned his face with the rag, before turning on his side.
Ian climbed into bed and spooned Alek from behind.
“I shouldn’t have let things get carried away.” He pressed a kiss to the back of Alek’s head.
Alek said nothing. He didn’t trust his stomach enough to speak.
While Alek willed the world to stop spinning, Ian’s chest vibrated against his back with deep, grumbling apologies and declarations of love that did little to soothe his fears. Ian could say what he wanted, but people were most honest when they were angry. In a moment of pure, uncontrolled rage, Ian said Alek was a burden. If Alek was a burden then, he was much heavier now.
23
ALEKSANDAR
BULGARIA. TWELVE YEARS OLD.
Aleksandar’s parents remained abroad for the rest of the summer, leaving him alone with his grief and a locked box he still couldn’t open.
First, he’d poured over his encyclopedia collection for any information even slightly related to locks and safe-cracking. And when they didn’t work, he tried bludgeoning the safe with a hammer, but all that did was make a clanging so loud, he was shocked no one came to investigate.
One afternoon, Aleksandar’s parents returned. He wasn’t expecting them, but that was how they were. It was not an uncommon occurrence for him to go to sleep with two parents and wake with one or neither. The reverse was also true.
Aleksandar was sitting at the piano when his father entered the room. His father’s black hair, slim build, and blue eyes were so much like his uncle’s that for one fleeting second Aleksandar convinced himself that his uncle was still alive. There was no fire. It was all a nightmare that he hadn’t realized he’d woken up from.
All too soon, his brain cruelly reminded him that his uncle had died. Aleksandar would never see him again. None of whathappened was a nightmare. It was like witnessing his uncle’s death all over again.
His mother dropped her bag by the door and went up to her room without sparing Aleksandar a glance or word. His father ruffled the hair on top of his head. Aleksandar did not flinch. Deception was survival. Now more than ever.
He looked at his father closely. His smile seemed as genuine and friendly as it usually did, but charisma was always his strong suit.
“How was your trip?” Aleksandar asked him.
“Exhausting.” He gripped Aleksandar’s shoulder. “Come eat with me. I brought cake.”
Aleksandar nodded and subtly shifted out of his father’s grasp. Those were the hands that murdered his uncle. He’d rather die than feel them on him again.
Honey cake was Aleksandar’s favorite, but the shock of his father’s return had spoiled his appetite. He could hardly think because the knocking of river rocks against each other was louder than thunder. He wanted to scream, if only to hear something else. But it would draw attention if he didn’t eat, so he forced himself to take one bite. And then another. Even though the taste was so sickly sweet, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to eat sugar again.
Between bites, Aleksandar answered his father’s questions. How was his summer? Hot. What had he been up to? The piano mostly. Aleksandar asked none of his own questions, though he had many. Had he grieved his brother’s death or was getting rid of him a tick in a box on his list? A line struck through his name? Was he relieved? Victorious? Conflicted? Did his father feel anything at all?
His mother did not join them. Aleksandar knew why. If he was honest with himself, he’d known for a very long time. He didn’t care to learn whether his real father was his uncle or thebrother who killed him. It wouldn’t change anything. Whether his uncle was his father by blood or in spirit, Aleksandar’s betrayal remained the same.
