Page 74 of Barinov

Glad it’s healing? Fuck you, Captain Asshat. It wouldn’t need to heal if you wouldn’t have forced my brother to—

Focus, bitch.

“Me too,” I nod, digging my fingernails into my thigh.

His fingers brush the stem of my glass as he draws it toward him. He tips the dark red liquid into it, watching closely as it pools at the shoulder.

“This,” he says, swirling the glass twice before setting it down in front of me. “Is the same bottle from Florence.”

“Florence?” The question slips from my mouth.

“Remember?” he asks, pouring himself a glass. “The celebration trip we took after you made The Revenants your freshman year.”

Of course, I don’t remember you idiot. Because I’m not my fucking mother!

“Right,” I lie, taking a sip. It’s dry and bitter. I’m so not a fan. I force myself to choke it down. “It’s just…”

Come on think, think, think.

“It’s just that Northvale was such a long time ago and I’m having a difficult time remembering,” I say, swirling my glass and avoiding his gaze. “Please don’t be mad. Certain things sometimes get a little fuzzy in my head. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he says, resting a hand over mine. “Izzy, I could never be mad at you.” He squeezes gently. “I’ll help you remember, no matter how long it takes. We’ll find our way back to each other.”

Holy shit. That actually worked.

“So,” I say playfully. “What did you make us for dinner?”

He chuckles. “You know as well as anyone that I am a terrible cook.”

Well isn’t that a shocker!

“Right,” I say with a tight smile.

“But,” he adds. “I did get your favorite from Nora’s.”

He removes the silver dome off of my plate. My mouth waters as he reveals the most delicious looking lasagna I’ve ever seen. Thank the Lord my mother at least had the same taste in food as me. I’d hate to starve to death in this beautiful hell.

We eat in peace for a short while. Nothing but the sound of scraping forks and the smell of garlic and marinara filling the space between us.

“What is it, dear?” he finally asks.

“I was just,” I say, setting down my fork, “thinking about Ivan.”

He hums like he expected that. “I should shoot him for opening his mouth.”

“He said he was your cousin? And that I killed his brother, but I’ve seen Ivan’s file. He doesn’t have a brother.”

He nods. “Yes, that is what it says. But your intel is wrong, my love.” He takes a sip of his wine. “Ivan Nowak is just another Jack Donnelly, I’m afraid.”

He swirls his glass before sitting it down on the table and eyeing me closely. “You remeber when I created Jack, right?”

“How the hell would I remember?” I snap, chair scraping into the wood as I push back from the table. “You keep talking to me like I’m my mother but newsflash nutjob, I’m not!”

“Izzy, please,” he says calmly. “Sit down.”

“No!” I yell. “You’re insane! Jack. Luca. Whoever the hell you are. My name is Bella and I—”

Play his game, but never let him win.