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I have no plans to run. There would be no point–he’s made that very clear–and there’s no authorities that I could go to for help. They’d be as likely to arrest me on suspicion of my father’s murder as anything else, and that sort of captivity isn’t likely to be better or fairer than what I’m enduring here.
And then, as we turn a corner with me lost in thought, I see a flash of red hair.
It can’t be.My heart nearly stops in my chest. I have one moment of bright, flaring hope that itis, and then it turns to clinging, crawling fear as I realize what that would mean.Don’t let it be her.
We turn down the same aisle, and I know it is. Even from the back, I recognize her. All I can do is hope that she doesn’t turn around, or that if she does, my newly blonde hair and questionable disguise is enough to keep her from recognizingme.
Keep going, I will Mikhail, but he pauses, looking at a shelf, and I turn slightly to one side, trying to hide my face, my heart hammering in my chest. I want to speak to her more than I want to breathe, want to throw myself into her arms, want to grab her hand and flee far away from here, but I know it would undo everything I’d tried so hard for up until this point. I’d kept a guard up around Ruby, the best friend I’d ever had, because I’d wanted to keep her safe.
I don’t want to ruin that now.
I see her start to turn towards us, and I turn away at the same moment, desperate to hide my face, furious at whatever cosmic joke of fate put her in this same store today. But Mikhail grabs my arm, as if he thinks I’m going to try to walk away, and I see Ruby’s eyes go wide as she recognizes me.
“Athena?” she breathes, walking towards us with a quick, intentional stride. Her eyes narrow as she sees the man next to me, and her voice hardens. “Mikhail?”
“The same,” Mikhail says silkily, and my blood chills. I know that out of everyone we could have possibly run into, Ruby is the worst possible outcome. He’s aware that we’re close. That she might not just let this go the way Elina had. That she’s not so likely to believe whatever cover story I come up with.
Her eyes skate over me, a little disbelieving, taking in the blonde hair, my pale face, the clothes. “I thought you left,” she says softly, her attention entirely fixed on mine now. “Everything you’d left in the dressing room was cleared out. I even hacked into Igor’s old computer to look up your address to see where you lived.” Her face flushes slightly, as if she’s embarrassed to admit that she’d done something so stalker-y out of worry for me, and I want to tell herif you only knew.But I can feel Mikhail’s presence at my elbow, hovering, ready to spring into action if I say a word wrong.
“I looked in the windows and your apartment was bare too–just furniture, like everything had been taken that mattered. I thought you’d just disappeared.”
“I–” I swallow hard, trying frantically to think of what to say that she might believe. I catch Mikhail’s warning expression in my periphery, and my heart leaps into my throat. “Mikhail and I–”
I can feel Ruby’s eyes on me, can practically hear the gears in her head spinning, drawing her own conclusions faster than I can come up with a cover story to explain what’s happening here. I know I have to derail her, or else this will all go horribly wrong.
“You know Mikhail and I were spending time together. That we had an–arrangement.” I swallow past the lump in my throat, trying to sound sincere, eager,in love, even. “Well it–it turned into something else. He asked me if I wanted to come and stay with him for a while. If I wanted to not have to dance anymore, to be cared for and spoiled and taken care of. And well–it sounded too good to be true. But it’s been wonderful.”
I fumble for Mikhail’s hand, lacing my fingers through his as I squeeze, forcing a smile onto my face. I feel him tense next to me, but I don’t have time to wonder what his reaction means. I’m in triage mode, desperately trying to keep Ruby’s suspicions from spiraling out of control.
“You’re telling me,” Ruby says slowly, her jaw tight. “That you–you–decided in a matter of a couple of weeks to fall for this guy, and move in with him?”
“Sometimes when you know, you know, right?” I move a little closer to Mikhail, my body brushing against his, and I feel that tension rippling through him again. “It’s been a whirlwind. I never thought I’d fall for someone so quickly, but–”
Ruby’s suspicious gaze flicks towards Mikhail. “The last time we talked,” she says slowly, “you weren’t sure if you should keep seeing him. We had an entire discussion about that last date you were supposed to go on. You were on the verge of calling the whole thing off.”
“Because of the way I was feeling.” I look at her pleadingly, hoping for her to understand, but not for the reasons she might be thinking. “I didn’t want to admit it. I felt so silly, for having such strong feelings for someone so fast. I thought you’d judge me for it, tell me I was being stupid. And I think part of me wanted you to talk me out of it. I just–didn’t want to tell you what was really happening.”
Ruby’s mouth twists, and I can tell that she’s not entirely buying it. “You could always tell me everything,” she says softly, and I can hear the double meaning in her words, what she wants me to understand.
Except Ican’t. I can feel Mikhail tensing next to me, can feel that he’s on the edge of violence, and I scramble for something, anything, to help rectify the situation before he decides to handle it in his way.
“You don’t seem like yourself,” Ruby says, her lips pursing. “All of this–” she waves her hand at the baseball cap, the hair, my clothes. “I’d really like it if I could talk to you by yourself, for a minute.”
Her voice is hardening, her shoulders tense as she looks at Mikhail, ready to square off with him in defense of me, if need be. It warms me to my very core, because I’ve never had a friend who would try to defend me in that way, but it terrifies me too. I know Mikhail won’t let this go easily.
“You should come over,” I blurt out, and Ifeelthe way Mikhail glares at me, his eyes stabbing daggers into me as I look at Ruby, desperately trying to salvage this before it goes too far. “The house is beautiful. I want you to see how good it is, how happy I’ve been. Really–everything is okay. You’ll see. Just come over for dinner, maybe day after tomorrow? Mikhail is a surprisingly good cook.”
I lean into him, nudging him playfully as I keep talking, trying to convince her. “You really wouldn’t believe how good. I’ve never gotten to inviteyouover. Say you’ll come, please?”
My pulse is racing so hard that I feel like I might throw up all over again. I know that inviting Ruby to Mikhail’s is a deadly gambit for us both, but I also know that if I leave things as they are right now, she’s doomed. She doesn’t believe me, and I don’t think for a second that Mikhail will leave a wild card like that unaddressed. The only thing I can think of is that maybe by inviting her over, he’ll see that I’m willing to do whatever I have to in order to convince her that this is something I’m doing of my own free will. That we can put on enough of a show for him to feel that leaving her alone won’t be a danger.
I feel him relax the slightest bit next to me, and I feel so relieved that I could cry.
“Of course,” Mikhail says smoothly. “We’d love to have you for dinner. I’d like nothing more than for Natalia’s friend to see just how much I like to spoil my kitten.” His hand tightens around mine, and Ruby raises an eyebrow.
“Natalia?” She presses her lips together. “So that’s–”
“My actual name.” I feel as if I should apologize for not telling her before, but it’s not as if I know her real name, either. I know I should offer up a last name, but I don’t. I doubt Ruby knows who the Obelensky family is–was–but I don’t want to take that risk. I don’t want to risk anything that I don’t have to.
