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He can’t see what’s happening out here. If he could, he wouldn’t be yelling. He’d be coaxing Ilya tenderly back to the shore like I’m trying to.
“You aren’t helping!” I cry back, loudly enough for him to hear, though I try to keep my tone pleasant.
Still, Ilya pulls away from me. He drags a hand across the scarred side of his face, tugging his eye out of shape, and shakes his head as he mutters again and again, “No. No, no… No.”
“It’s just the two of us.” I hesitantly draw closer. “No one else is here, Ilya. It’s just—”
“He’s here.” Ilya looks to the shore, his eyes wide and distant. “He’s here.”
“Kirill. Yeah, it’s Kirill. He’s—”
“The monster,” he whispers. “Not safe. It’s not safe.”
Kirill yells something else from the beach, but I don’t hear it now. I’m fully focused on Ilya.
“You are safe, Ilya. You are. I promise.” I hold out my hand. “Tap with me. Remember? Tap your—”
Instantly, he reaches out and drums his finger on my knuckle. He’s as desperate to fight off this episode as I am. My methods aren’t exactly scientific, but I figure the more I can remind Ilya what is real, the better off we’ll be.
“Can I see your hand?” I ask.
He holds it out to me, and I drum my finger on the back of his hands. They are twice the size of mine, but when I move to pull my hand away, Ilya clutches tightly. He clings to me like I’m his lifeline. It’s heartwarming in its own way—or at least, it would be, if it didn’t make me even more aware of the fact that if it was up to me to get us out of the ocean right now, we’d both drown. Waves swirl around my thighs like grabby tentacles, and the sand sucking beneath my feet wants me to go deeper, deeper, deeper.
Gently, I reel him towards the shore. When he takes a step with me, I’m so relieved I could cry.
“That’s it,” I encourage him. “You’re doing great, Ilya. We’ll be out of the water soon. You can go change. Maybe do another puzzle? I brought a few.”
He’s moving, his eyes locked on his brother. Usually, the sight of Kirill brings a wide smile to his face. But now, he’s dubious.
And when I follow his gaze, it isn’t hard to see why: Kirill is fuming.
We aren’t even all the way out of the water before he stomps over and grabs my arm. “What in thefuckdo you think you’re doing out here?”
I take a calming breath. “Lower your voice, Kirill.”
His green eyes turn nuclear. “You’re fucking kidding. You don’t tell me how to react. What the fuck were you thinking?”
“Relax,” I breathe. “Ilya is—”
“Lucky he’s back on solid ground, is what he is.” He flings an arm towards the house. “Get inside, Ilya.”
“Don’t talk to him like that!”
Kirill grabs my arm and yanks me onto the sand. I stumble forward, grabbing his shirt to steady myself. He holds me with a punishing grip and flings his other arm towards the house once again. “Inside, Ilya. Now.”
Ilya backs away from Kirill. I’ve never seen that before: he’s scared of his own brother.
“You’re scaring him, Kirill. Stop it!”
“I’mscaring him?” he hisses. “You’re going to get both of you killed. Do you fucking understand that? Of course you don’t. Because you don’t listen to a damn thing I say. You just do whatever you want, whenever you want, and fuck what anyone else says.”
“That’s not true! Ilya was upset, and I wanted to help him. I wanted to—”
“Rayne is a friend.” Ilya’s voice is shaky. Each word trips over the next.
“Inside, Ilya,” Kirill shouts. “Now!”
Ilya jolts, but he backs away. After a minute, he turns and lopes towards the house at high speed.
