AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Thanks, Kirill. I love you.
It was the last normal interaction we ever had.
“Daria invited me back to her house because her parents were out of town. One thing led to another…”
My mind flashes back to an hour ago. To Rayne in my arms. To being buried deep inside of her, oblivious to anyone or anything else outside of that moment.
That’s how it felt back then with Daria. I was eighteen and wholly focused on her. Everything else fell away.
“I forgot about collecting the money,” I admit. “When I got back to the house, Father had taken it out on Ilya.”
German curses softly under his breath, but makes no move to stop me. I think he knows I need to get this out of my head. The memories are tangible enough to reach out and touch.
“The house was trashed. The couch was turned over, dishes from the kitchen were shattered, and there was blood everywhere. When I found Ilya, I thought he was dead.” The image of my brother lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood has been the most haunting thing I’ve ever seen in my life… until tonight. “I carried him to the car and drove him to the hospital. I sat with him in the ICU for weeks. My dad didn’t visit once.”
“Shit. I knew things were bad. I mean, Ilya was… well, not in great shape. But I had no idea it was like that.” German shakes his head. “You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”
I stare at German, rolling the words around in my head. “Back then, it all felt like my fault. If I would have left Daria’s on time and remembered to pick up the money, everything would have been fine. I allowed myself to get distracted. I let a woman distract me. Afterwards, I swore I’d never do that again.”
“But that wasn’t your fault,” German insists.
“Maybe not. But this….” I glance over at my brother’s bare feet again. They’re white, slowly turning blue at the toes. “This is…”
“No,” German snaps. “This isn’t your fault, either.”
“Then whose is it?” I whirl on him, eyes wide. The question sounds rhetorical, but I’d love an answer. Anything to take this unbearable weight off of my shoulders. “I took Ilya’s care into my own hands. I brought him to this godforsaken beach. I sent Rayne to his door.”
I heard Rayne the moment she appeared on the beach tonight. The broken rasp in her voice as she said Ilya asked her to take him to the beach.
I convinced him to stay inside. He agreed. He told me he wouldn’t come out to the water. His door was locked. I thought he was safe. I told him not to come out here.
She was so optimistic. So confident in her connection with him that she thought everything was fine.
I was so taken with her that, had she told me that interaction, I would have trusted her.
Even knowing what she’d done, I still would have ended up with her in that kitchen. Nothing would have changed.
I clench my jaw. “While Ilya was drowning, I was fucking Rayne in the middle of a Bratva dinner. Who else’s goddamn fault could all of this be, German?”
He looks at me, his eyes impossibly sad. But he doesn’t say a word.
That alone says everything.
This guilt is so much worse than it was when I was a boy. Because now, I know without a doubt that the only person to blame in this situation is me. Not Rayne, even though I tried.
Me. Just me.
Which means I’m the one who has to pick up the pieces.
“We take Ilya out and bury him in the sand behind the house,” I say flatly. “It’s what he would want. To be close to the ocean.”
German is wary. “That’s tampering with a body, Kirill. If anyone finds out you buried him back there, you could get—”
“Nothing anyone could do to me is worse than this. I don’t care. Either help me or shut the fuck up.”
German snaps his mouth closed. After a second, he nods.
We work quietly, wrapping Ilya in his favorite blanket from his room. The same blanket Rayne offered to get for him. Then we carry him down to the beach.
