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And I don’t really want to be alone right now.
I’m glad for Anton’s invitation to join them again. I find them in the living room, two dark heads bent over what looks like a model airplane.
Anton looks up. “Hey,Zayka”
“Hey.” I smile as I move to join them. “Where are the others?” The house has been notably silent since our arrival.
“Luka went with Ivan to take the men back home,” he says. “Your people said they had something to do back at…the Fleabag-Carlton?” He frowns. I feel a smile form.
They’re giving us space.
“Then I guess it’s just us?” I sit cross-legged on the floor beside them. Niko hands me a tube of glue.
His eyes move over my face, and then he gives a slight nod. And then we turn our attention back to the little plane, which is exactly what I need.
For the next few hours, we spend time together, sharing laughs over Niko’s comments and stories. By the time we’re done, I have almost forgotten the darkness that’s chased us.
We stand and stretch our cramped limbs. Anton drops into an armchair and Nikolai scrambles onto his lap.
“Tell us a story, Papa!” he demands.
Anton gives me a sheepish grin, as if feeling awkward over this moment of fatherly behavior. He obviously doesn’t know how much it warms my heart. By the time he launches into a tale about a brave knight who must rescue his princess from an evil sorcerer, I’m turned into a mush.
As we listen to his deep gravelly voice, I watch the animation in his face, admiring the strong lines of it. And though he’s talking about dark woods and fortresses, I know this story is ours – the knight who came to save me. A dark knight. But my knight, all the same. I lose myself in Anton’s voice as he continues the story.
When it’s over, Nikolai is beaming with joy. It warms me. After what he’s been through, I’d been afraid he’d never be the same.
I must give the kid some credit for his resilience. He must have gotten that from his father.
“Will you give me more climbing lessons, Miss Scarlett?” Niko suddenly asks. Anton and I exchange glances and I can see the muscles in his face tense. I know what’s on his mind: he’s remembering those terrifying moments when Nikolai was in that pit…and how those skills saved his young life.
“I think I could probably learn a thing or two from you, kiddo,” I tease gently. His face grows serious, and I regret my words at once. Am I bringing back bad memories?
Jesus, he probably needs therapy after everything he’s been through.
But then he goes on, “I thought of you. It made me brave.” His face is earnest. “And I remembered that I could climb. And about the locks” His eyes shine brightly. “I knew what to do.”
The kid’s impressive, indeed. He picked the damn handcuffs. I know a dozen men who couldn’t get that right.
“You sure did, kiddo. And I’m very proud of you.” I squeeze his little shoulder. “We’ll make a cat burglar of you yet.” Anton clears his throat abruptly. “Um…maybe not that,” I quickly correct myself. “But we’ll find some useful ways to put those talents to the test. Maybe you could be a rock-climber! Or a zookeeper for monkeys!”
The sound of his laughter fills me with warmth and soon enough Anton joins in too. By the end of the evening, our laughter has grown easy and natural, as if the past few days had never happened. We all curl up together on the sofa. It feels like everything is finally right again.
But there’s always the unspoken topic hovering over us…
The baby.
The future.
Ourfuture.
With every tick of the clock, anticipation and nerves build within me as I wait for the inevitable conversation. It has to happen. I know it does.
It’s not long before exhaustion finally takes its toll on Nikolai. He yawns widely, eyes drooping.
“Bed,” Anton says. He carries Niko to his room and tucks him in, brushing a kiss against his forehead. Yet again, it makes my heart swell – there’s no mistaking what an incredible father he is. It seems so at odds – this man I’ve seen in crude battle, slashing throats and breaking necks without mercy, who can be so gentle with his child. It bolsters my courage to broach the topic that’s nagging at me.
“Can we talk?” I ask Anton once Nikolai has gone to sleep. We stand in the dimly lit hallway, shadows throwing patterns on the walls.
