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“I’m here, bud.” Kirill pats his back. “I just saw you this morning. And last night, too. It hasn’t been that long.”
“Where were you?” Ilya asks.
It’s the longest sentence I’ve heard him string together. For some reason, in Kirill’s presence, he seems more lucid.
Kirill squeezes his shoulder and gives him a lazy smile. “Out and about. But I’m here now.”
Ilya grabs his hand and starts pulling him towards the back of the house, but Kirill resists. Even though he doesn’t turn towards me, I can tell he’s watching me.
I don’t belong here. Kirill made that clear. No one is to come up to this floor. Ever.
Yet here I am.
I shrink down on the sofa like maybe I’ll be able to hide between the cushions.
“Hey,” Kirill says suddenly, making me jump. “Let’s do a puzzle. Do you want to do a puzzle?”
Ilya lights up, nodding excitedly. He reminds me of Lily and Brady when they get extra TV time.
“Go find one. I’ll be back, okay?” Kirill goes to turn, but Ilya tightens his hold on Kirill’s arm. His knuckles turn white.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen anyone restrain Kirill, and I’m fairly sure it’s the only time I’m sure Kirill lets himself be restrained. Instead of pulling away, he rests his hand over Ilya’s gently.
“I’ll be back. I promise.”
“We’ll do a puzzle,” Ilya says.
Four words. The new longest sentence I’ve heard him speak.
“We’ll do a puzzle,” Kirill confirms. “But I’ll be back. I have to say goodbye to our friend.”
Ilya looks at me for the first time since Kirill arrived. His brow furrows, and I can’t tell if he recognizes me or not. Is it possible he doesn’t remember me?
I smile and wag my fingers down towards the ground. Instantly, Ilya smiles back and copies me. “Rayne.”
Kirill’s head snaps in my direction. Our eyes meet. I can feel the rage bubbling under his calm surface.
He turns back to Ilya. “Go find a puzzle. I’ll be back.”
Ilya seems hesitant to leave, but after a few more reassurances from Kirill that he’ll be back, he finally turns and drifts into the rear of the apartment.
The moment he walks through the door and disappears, Kirill reaches over the sofa and yanks me up by my upper arm.
“Ow!” I hiss. “You’re hurting me.”
But Kirill ignores me. He hauls me towards the double doors. I’m stumbling along behind him, tripping over my own feet, but he doesn’t stop or slow. He doesn’t even acknowledge me beyond his crushing grip on my arm until we are in the elevator heading for the first floor.
Finally, he drops my arm and looks down at me, his square jaw set in hard granite.
The last time we were this close, his hand was down my pants. The memory sends heat blooming across my cheeks.
I wait for Kirill to say something, anything. But when he doesn’t, I decide to break the quiet. “Listen, I’m sorry about—”
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I shouldn’t have gone up there. But you’ve been so secretive. I just wanted to know—”
“You disobeyed me.”
