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“We aren’t fighting. She just wanted me to come to her place last night and I told her I couldn’t.”
“Why couldn’t you?”
“Because.”
I raise my brows. “Because… why?”
“Because ofyou,” he says, like it’s totally obvious. “You’re back and Mikhail and Alexander are still out there. I need to be here in case anything goes wrong. To keep you safe.”
“That’s actually what I came to talk to you about,” I say. “I want to be as safe as possible, too. After the other day with Mikhail, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how useless I felt.”
“Ivan had Mikhail handled, Cora. He didn’t need your help.”
“No, I know that. I get that. But there might come a point when I need to fend for myself.”
Just the thought of a point like that brings back memories I’d rather forget.Mikhail cornering me in my bedroom at Alexander’s house, pressing me against the wall while his hands crept lower and lower and…
I blink the images away and find Yasha studying me. He swipes the sweat off of his forehead. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I want you to teach me how to fight.”
“No. Correction:hellno.”
His answer is so fast that it takes me by surprise. I’m sure I must have misheard him.
“What?”
“No.” He shakes his head firmly. “I can’t.” He pulls out his phone, ignoring me entirely.
I’m still standing there, wondering if I’m the butt of some joke I don’t get. “Youcan’t? What does that mean?”
“Listen, CorCor—can I call you that?” He pockets his phone. “CorCor, I basically view you as a sister at this point. You are a sexless, shapeless blob in my eyes.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Somehow, I’m both grossed out and offended at the same time. What are you talking about?”
“Fighting is close and personal.” He does a little bob-and-weave to prove his point. “For you, grappling would probably be the best use of your learning time and that can only take place in close quarters, you know what I mean? I’m not going to do that without talking to Ivan first.”
“You’re kidding. What is this, like, some kind of ‘bros before hoes’ thing?”
He snaps and points at me with a pleased grin. “Exactly! You get it.”
I gasp in mock horror and pull out my phone. “I’m going to tell Ivan you called me a ‘hoe.’ How do you think he’ll feel about that?”
“Woah! It’s just a phrase. He knows that. He won’t care.” Yasha watches me pace while I dial and the phone rings. Just before Ivan picks up, he whispers, “But don’t tell him… just in case.”
“Hello,solnishka,” Ivan answers. “Everything okay?”
“I want Yasha to teach me how to fight.”
Again, I expect a few moments of consideration and a discussion. I’ve got my argument ready, an extremely convincing PowerPoint already cued up in my head. But just like Yasha, Ivan answers immediately.
“No.”
My mouth falls open. “What? Why?”
“He said no, didn’t he?” Yasha crows. “I knew it! He would have killed me if I’d done it without asking.”
I ignore him and focus on Ivan’s deep voice. “Yasha is not going to teach you how to fight.”
