Theo
Glancing at Illya out of the corner of my eye, I pursed my lips against the frown that threatened to twist my face. Over the past eight weeks, things had stabilized for the most part. Illya was actually a little excited to do some corporate espionage, and I got two days off of my choosing a week. I hadn’t seen hide or hair of Mateo, but I knew he was around because, every so often, I’d hear one of the cleaning ladies talking about cleaning his pigsty of an apartment.
After the whole mess with Sylvie resolved, he seemed reclusive and quiet, which was a-o-fucking-kay with me. I liked the silence, and Carlyle wasn’t too bad to listen to, at the very least.
Tightening my grip on the wheel as we drove the rolling back roads toward Massachusetts, I rubbed my tongue against the roof of my mouth.
“You didn’t tell me you used to live in Mass.” Every time I thought we were getting a little closer, Illya would push me back somehow. She hummed softly from the passenger seat, and I craned my neck as I adjusted in my own. “Where else have you lived?”
“Just Springfield and in Mexico.” The short answer was more than I had a right to expect. I knew I was pushing buttons that I shouldn’t. Illya didn’t abandon her family— didn’t have that decision to go back and try to make amends— the way I had. Her whole family had been burnt to a crisp, and that really sucked.
But that was as much a determination as it was a drawback. I couldn’t have a part of her, even though it was mightily hypocritical of me. After all, it wasn’t like I had given her all of me, yet, either. That would entail showing her how easy it was to kill someone, to snuff out a life, and all that potential with no regrets and no lost sleep.
“When I came back from the Marines, I lived in Washington, D.C., for a while. That sucked ass. It was so expensive.” Maybe, it’d be better to keep my mouth shut, and Illya propped her elbow on the center console to stare at me. Her slender brows furrowed, and she puffed out her lips as I flicked on my blinker as we neared a stop sign. “What?”
“Since we’re doing this . . . I’m kinda nervous.” Arching a brow quizzically, I nearly choked on my own spit, and she frowned darkly out of my peripheral. “The only guys I’ve ever had sex with were so drunk they could barely get it up. I was always on top. Some times, I didn’t even have to take off my clothes if I wore a skirt. It’s just safer that way because there’s this time where they’re really grabby, and I can’t do that.”
“I already figured that out. Why do you think I go so far only to stop right before the good part?” Her mossy green eyes brightened at my admission, and I cleared my throat roughly; having a conversation like this was surreal. I never expected to have to explain myself to her. “Grabbing tits isn’t exactly something I think about, so I’ve been trying to get myself out of the habit. It’s frustrating, I get it, but you gotta have a little faith in me, Illya.”
“Ooh.” A grim smirk tilted my lips, and I reached to rub her head and ruffle her hair roughly. Honestly, Illya was really sad and pathetic, how she didn’t expect people to act with her interests in mind. It’d been months, and she questioned everything I did for her. She always expected to have to pay me back in some way. “I’m making this difficult, aren’t I? It was easier before Carlyle picked me up.”
“Do you have any family in Mass. now?” Changing the subject rather than agree with her and make it worse, I paused at the stop sign as Illya nodded. “Do you want to visit them, too?”
“Might as well. Do you ever go see your parents?” My cheek twitched at that, and I shook my head as memories flooded my mind’s eye. “Why not?”
“They’re still pissed at me about my sister. I mean, I don’t blame them. I wasn’t okay at the time, but Kelsie was still in the wrong as well. If I had to take a side, I’d take hers. I would’ve cut her fingers off. If I had the chance again, I’d do it without hesitation.” Inhaling deeply through my nose, I lifted my right hand to stretch my mangled fingers taut, and tension prickled up my arm. “I always hated her, stuck up bitch. It’s not out of character for her to say shit like that. I remember the day she was born. The fuck does she think that she’s better than everyone else just because she’s got the suburbia dream life?”
“I had little twin brothers. They both died in the fire when the roof collapsed. I’ve got a bunch of aunts and uncles on both sides, but Carol was relatively drama-free at the time. Now that I’m older, I don’t blame anyone for not taking me in. Everyone has their own problems, and despite being family, they’re not obligated to take me on. Especially with all the care I needed. That’s not fair to anyone.” The more she revealed, the darker, raspier, Illya’s voice became, and I reached into the cup holder to check the GPS on my phone with a low grunt. “Carol killed herself. I told you about that. Her husband took on her court case and didn’t try to contest it. He probably didn’t have any fight in him because of her death. In the end, she shirked it off onto others and got away scot-free.”
“So, what happened? To the money they owed you?”
“I dropped it. He didn’t even know what was going on. He thought she got a promotion and a bonus at work for some of the more noticeable stuff. I wanted to fuck her over, but she took the easy way out. He offered to pay some of it, or make a plan or something, but . . . it was about the money, but not really about the money, you know?” A harsh bark of shock escaped me, and I turned away from the road as Illya sat back with a heavy sigh. “I was young and stupid. I was already homeless, so it couldn’t get worse, or so I believed at the time. It’d be easy to get a job at McDonald's or whatever. I speak six languages, and that’s gonna get me somewhere. Well, it didn’t, but I couldn’t just go back. Fuck that.”
“How come you always stick to your decisions unless I’m involved?” My tease earned me a slight push from over the center console, and I leaned back to stretch my leg a little. “No, seriously, though. Why do you make awful decisions and stick by them, but you waver on the good ones until they turn bad?”
“Maybe, I just like wallowing in my misery because it’s comfortable. The unknown is scary.” Snorting roughly at that, I shook my head, and Illya frowned out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t know. Maybe, it’s because I care about your opinion.”
I smirked broadly as Illya looked out the window, her hair falling over her shoulder to hide her pink cheeks. This was one of those moments that I always thought brought us a little closer— and then she’d fuck it up.
But, surprisingly, she didn’t disappoint this time, and I arched a brow when she huffed softly.
“I know I just said I didn’t blame him, but I still wanna kick him in the balls for being an ignorant ass.” Really, I couldn’t say anything about that. I’d never met the guy, but I couldn’t believe he was so trusting of his wife. Truthfully, a few grand of a surprise remodel would’ve been understandable, but tens of thousands of dollars?
“Where do your parents live, Theo?” The question threw me for a loop, and I reached to rub my head and neck in discomfort.
“Uh . . . I don’t really know, to be honest. They cut contact with me after all that shit.” My grumble of a reply earned me expectant silence, and I glanced over the center console as Illya stared at her lap intently under furrowed brows. “I’ve never thought of trying to reconnect with them. Are you gonna tell me I should?”
“No.” She reached to brush her fingers along her jaw thoughtfully, and I grunted softly. A knot formed in my chest, but I shook my head and focused on the road. We’d taken the scenic route up through Connecticut, and I managed to avoid most of the highways. “Family is as much a good thing as a bad thing. Just because I don’t have mine anymore doesn’t mean you’re obligated to suffer for yours.”
