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Her eyes snap to mine. “So you figured it out, then.”
I nod and swallow. “How old were you when it happened?”
Mila stares at the floor for the longest time. I’m pretty sure she isn’t going to answer me, when she finally speaks up. “It started when I was eleven.” She’s steeled herself, but I can still hear the hint of tremor in her voice.
I close my eyes at the horror she must have gone through. “I’m so sorry. But did you ever think to go to your father? Tell him what was happening?”
Mila laughs bitterly and shakes her head. “Ah. So you didn’t figure it out after all.”
Maybe not.
Butnow, I have.
My blood runs cold for the little girl peeking out through Mila’s eyes.
“No one challenges thepakhan, Taylor. Not even when he climbs into his daughter’s bed.”
A hiss escapes between my teeth. I hate myself for making her say it out loud. The possibility crossed my mind once, but I pushed it away, disregarding it as too awful, too cruel, too terrible to be true.
I knew that Ilarion and Mila didn’t have the best relationship with their father. But that didn’t necessarily mean he wasthatkind of monster.
And I’ve answered my own question before I even ask it: the whole Bratva probably thought the same thing.
“Mila…”
She smiles sadly at me. “Sex has never been anything but pain and horror for me. Every time I think of it, I seehim. A cruel world would’ve closed up my heart along with the rest of it. Taken away my ability to love. But that remained. It’s everything else that died.”
I almost reach out and touch her, but I hold myself back at the last minute. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I did what I had to do to sleep at night,” she says. “And since then, I have slept better. Don’t ever feel sorry for me, Taylor. I’m no victim.”
I let my hands linger in my lap, hating myself for how useless I am to do anything to help someone who’s hurting so badly.
She gets to her feet. “Ilarion isn’t going to make this easy for you,” she remarks. “You know that, right?”
“Yeah. I know.”
She nods. “But maybe you can make it easier on yourself. By being honest with your sister, coming clean, admitting to yourself that you love my brother.”
“Iusedto love your brother,” I mumble. “But those feelings are gone now.”
Mila smiles. “Look at that. She can dish it out, but she can’t take it.” She moves towards the door, but she stops at the threshold to look back at me. “If you need anything, I’m here.”
Then the door clicks shut. The floor looks mighty comforting again. I want to curl up and disappear from the world, for a few hours at least.
But if Mila refuses to be a victim, maybe I can do the same. I can look out the window at the world instead of cowering on the carpets.
I do exactly that, going to the window seat and tucking my feet beneath me while I peer out at the gardens. But the world doesn’t look any different than it does when I admit I’m afraid. The gardens are still the gardens. The sky is still the sky. My past is still my past.
My future is still a nightmare.
32
TAYLOR
I’m still trying to figure it all out when I happen to catch sight of my father pacing through the garden. His face is hidden, but his shoulders are tense. He rounds every corner quickly, like he wants to catch anyone who might be waiting for him.
He’s Scared Archie again. I know those signs, those twitches, those tremors. The constant worry and panic. The helicopter father who considered going out in the rain to be a dangerous pastime.
