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“The truth,” he says. “I told him the truth—that he kept you hidden to serve his own selfish needs. That he used a young, wounded girl and made her stay with him instead of returning her to her family. To her life. That he’s a sick bastard. That’s what I told him.”
I stare at my brother, stunned at what I’m hearing, then take two steps until I’m right in front of him. “He saved my life, Arturo.”
“Any normal person would have helped a woman in need. But they wouldn’t have tried to hide her.”
I close my eyes. When Arturo came to get me, I only told him about what Robert did. He thinks I spent the entire time with Pasha. I hoped it wouldn’t come to this, that I wouldn’t need to tell him what happened during those first two months or what those people did to me. What they made me do. I should have, but I didn’t want to hurt him.
“Sit down, Arturo,” I say, and when he does, I start talking.
I tell him everything this time.
When I’m done, he’s looking at me with red-rimmed eyes, hands gripping his hair while he’s barely keeping himself on the edge of the bed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother cry, not even when we were told our parents had been killed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he chokes out, then grabs me and engulfs me in a hug, crushing me against him. “Why, Asya? Why?” he whispers.
“I was in a very bad place when Pasha found me,” I say into his neck. “Something had broken inside me, Arturo, and it felt as if I was trapped in a black hole with no way out. He saved me. And not only my life. He saved my soul, too. He helped me collect all my broken pieces and glued them back together.”
“It should have been us,” he says into my hair. “Sienna and I should have been the ones who helped you go through that.”
“I couldn’t make myself tell you. I didn’t want to see you or Sienna. I would have rather died than told you.”
“Why?”
“Because I wasn’t ready. And because I love you and couldn’t bear the thought of what it would do to you.” I lift my head and take my brother’s face in my palms. “I begged Pasha not to call you. I asked him to promise he wouldn’t call you until I was ready. It wasn’t him who kept me from you. I did that. It was my decision.”
“I should have kept you safe,” Arturo persists. “I will never forgive myself.”
“Please don’t do that. It’s not your fault.”
“I’m going to kill them all, Asya. Every single person who was in any way involved.”
“Pasha and the Bratva already took care of them,” I say, then tilt my chin up to whisper into his ear, “and I killed the guy who took me.”
Arturo’s body goes still. “You, personally?”
“Yes. After Pasha was done with him, I put a gun between the bastard’s eyes and pulled the trigger.” I smile. “It was the best fucking feeling ever.”
“Good.” He squeezes the back of my neck.
“I need to know what else you said to Pasha. He’s been ignoring me, not taking my calls since I left.”
Arturo grinds his teeth and looks away. “I told him that you deserve better, and he agreed.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes while pressure forms at the bridge of my nose. “You had no right,” I say. “You had no right, Arturo. It’s my life.”
“You’re eighteen, Asya. He’s fifteen years older than you!”
“Yes. And I’ve gone through tough times most people don’t ever experience,” I bite out. “I think I’ve earned the right to make decisions for myself.”
Yes, I still have problems picking what to wear or eat sometimes, but I don’t have any doubts as far as Pasha is concerned.
“So, what happens now?” he asks. “Are you going back to him?”
“You will always be my big brother, Arturo. You know I love you unconditionally.” I look into his eyes. “But I’m in love with Pasha. And I want to be with him.”
“Are you sure you’re in love with him? Maybe it’s just a crush? Maybe—”
I raise my hand and put a finger over his lips to silence him.
