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“I can’t afford to do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have Lev and Polly to think of,” I snarl. “Do you really think I could raise them if I’m so fucking angry all the time?”
Nikolai’s eyes fall flat. He turns away from me for a moment before whipping around again fast. “Sobakin is doing the same thing that he did back then. You know why he succeeded? Because he fought his battle from the shadows.”
“Like a coward.”
“He might be, but the bottom line is that he won. So what does it matterhowhe won?”
I scowl. “It matters to me.”
“It probably mattered to Otets, too. Now, he’s dead.”
I slam my fists against the table and launch up to my feet. “Don’t.”
Nikolai’s eyes burn with fury, but this time, that fury is directed at me. He straightens up, wobbles a few steps back, then takes a deep breath. “It’s your call.”
“That’s right. It’s my fucking call.”
Nikolai sighs and, just like that, he’s my brother again. “How’s Polina doing?”
“She’s fine. She’s a tough kid. But I think she misses us. She wants to spend more time at home.”
“With Sobakin running wild, that might not be the best idea.”
“I’m not gonna tell her she can’t come home, Niko.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “I know.”
I wonder some days what the dynamic might be for us if we didn’t jump down each other’s throats every chance we got. What would be left if we didn’t have this anger?
“I’m leaving.” Nikolai’s eyes land on the files in front of me. “Get some sleep, will you?”
He turns and leaves without waiting for an answer I was never going to give.Get some sleep?We both know that’s not happening.
42
URI
Sure enough, I don’t take Nikolai’s advice.
I stay up another hour, staring at the coroner’s pictures of my parents’ bodies after we found them in the ravine. I’m not sure why I sit there for so long. It’s a form of self-punishment I thought I’d done away with years ago.
When I finally tuck everything back into the drawer, I know that I won’t be able to sleep tonight. Tired as I am, my retinas are burning with the images. With the memories.
What I need now is a pain reliever. Something to take the edge off. I reach for the bar cart, but three vodkas later, I’m feeling more wired than ever. Adrenaline pumps through me, reminding me that I’m alive and they’re not.
Fuck.
It’s Pandora’s box and the lid is cracked wide open. I can see all my sins circling the air around me, ready to lunge the moment I expose my neck. I pace the floor of my office. On each circuit, as I pass by my desk, I let my gaze linger on the dark screen of my monitor. It’d be easy to call up the camera feeds. Just to check in.
If vodka didn’t fix me, maybe she can?
Fuck no.
