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My reprieve, such as it was, is over.
Chapter24
5 Months Earlier, Idaho
Areprieve. A refuge. That’s what Nikolai’s remote mountain estate is supposed to be. It’s a timeout from my regular life, a safe place where I don’t have to worry about Alexei. So why do I feel so restless, so uneasy? I can’t stop thinking about him, about what happened in that coat closet, and it’s slowly driving me mad.
Unsettled, I take one last drag on my joint and put it out before heading out of the woods. The pot has been keeping the headaches at bay for the most part, so I haven’t had to resort to anything stronger. I don’t know why I’m having the headaches at all; I can’t imagine a more relaxing place than Nikolai’s new compound.
My brother’s ultra-modern mansion is perched on a cliff, with Instagram-worthy mountain views all around. Despite May being right around the corner, we’ve just had a snowfall, and fresh powder crunches under my boots as I circle around the house to the front door. The air is crisp and pine-scented, so cool and fresh it almost hurts my lungs. Then again, maybe that’s what the problem is. The smell reminds me of Alexei and everything I’m here to escape.
Inhaling another lungful, I open the door and traipse into the house, where I hang up my coat and change out of my boots into a pair of clean shoes—high heels, because even here, I feel more comfortable wearing my glossy shield. Savory smells waft from the kitchen—Pavel is cooking dinner—and a child’s high-pitched voice alerts me to my nephew’s presence in the living room.
My mood lifts instantly, and I smile as I head over there. Slava has quickly become my favorite person. A tiny clone of Nikolai, the child is shy and reticent, especially around his father, but I love having him around. After the first few weeks, during which he understandably regarded us all with deep suspicion, he’s begun to warm up to me, as well as to Pavel and Lyudmila. Nikolai is the exception; for some reason, the two of them can’t find a common language—partially because he insists we speak to the boy in English, so he can adjust to his new life in America. Personally, I don’t think that’s nearly as important as Slava accepting his father, but Nikolai doesn’t listen to me. We don’t exactly have the warmest relationship these days.
I find Slava in the living room, as expected, but instead of Lyudmila, who’s taken on the role of his nanny, Nikolai is with him. My brother is pacing in front of the couch where Slava is sitting, trying to get his son to repeat some English words after him—and failing miserably. Slava is staring at him blankly, stubbornly disinterested. I’m not surprised. Slava has been ignoring my attempts to teach him the language as well.
“Maybe we should get him an American tutor,” I say in English, walking over to sit on a loveseat across from the couch. “He might respond better to someone who doesn’t actually speak his native tongue.”
Nikolai stops pacing and gives me a cool look. “We don’t need a stranger coming and going at all times.”
“What if it were a live-in person?”
He snorts. “Even worse.”
“Why?” Wait, why am I pushing for this? I don’t care if Slava learns English or not. That’s important to my brother, not to me. “Never mind. Forget it.”
Perversely,thatseems to convince Nikolai of the merit of my idea. “Actually…” He glances at his son, who’s now regarding him warily. “We could place an ad in a local paper, see if any teachers from the town bite. If we keep it offline and low key, it should be safe enough.”
I shrug. “If you want.” It’s his call either way. I just want Slava to settle in and accept us as his new family, and if learning English from a tutor facilitates that, I’m all for it.
Catching Slava’s gaze, I give him a warm smile and mouth, “Privet.”Hiin Russian.
Slava doesn’t smile back—he never does when Nikolai is around—but I can feel him relax a little. In many ways, we’re still strangers to him, and the artificial language barrier doesn’t help. We made sure his abduction was as trauma-free as possible—he was stolen in the middle of the night with the help of a little child-safe tranquilizer, so from his perspective, he just woke up here—but that doesn’t negate the fact that he’s been ripped away from everything and everyone he knows. I wish I could get Nikolai to understand that and just be kind and patient, but whenever my brother is around his son, he’s stiff and harsh, seemingly lacking in all empathy.
It’s like our father’s ghost has inhabited his body, ruining whatever chance Nikolai had at building rapport with his own son. Maybe as punishment for his murder.
I shiver as the dark memories press in, and it takes everything I have to maintain my warm, friendly smile. It’s not Slava’s fault his new family is nearly as messed up as his old. He’s better off with us than with the Leonovs—I have to believe that—but I was hoping Nikolai’s son would genuinely be happy here. So far, that’s not the case.
I stand, approach the couch, and extend a hand to my nephew. “Come, Slavochka,” I say in Russian, ignoring my brother’s scowl. “I have a new game I want to show you.”
And as Slava eagerly jumps off the couch and wraps his small palm around mine, my heart squeezes with a strange, piercing ache… one that, for some reason, makes me think of a man who’s nowhere near here.
A man I have escaped.
Chapter25
Present Day, Location Unknown
No escape.
The words drum in my mind as Alexei leads me down the stairs to our cabin, his hand wrapped securely around my elbow—ostensibly to keep me from falling as the ever-growing waves rock the yacht. But in reality, it’s to make sure I don’t do something as foolish as running. I know he can sense the panic-driven urge within me, hear my fast, shallow breaths.
This is it.
After more than a decade, our cat-and-mouse game is coming to an end.
As we reach the bottom of the stairs, a clap of thunder makes me jump, and he glances at me, eyebrows raised. “Are you afraid of thunderstorms, Alinyonok?”
