8
NATASHA
I leanedinto Lachlan’s side. A taut coil in his muscle unwound as Lorenzo’s truck sped away. Guilt made it hard to swallow. I forgot Lorenzo texted me that he’d help at the hospital on Mondays and Wednesdays. Dr. Ghannam updated me in person every Monday. Did Enzo pick that day by chance? No. It made sense. Interns and volunteers often picked even or odd days.
But I didn’t take him at his word. Perhaps, I’d hold off until Lach wasn’t all grunts and bravado.
“You mentioned the elevator?” I murmured, chewing my lip.
He nodded.
Ugh. I hope Lachlan didn’t blow it out of proportion. Say that I said Lorenzo cornered me in an elevator.
My eyes traced his battered lip and bruised knuckles. “Possessiveness suits you.”
“Well, you look hotter when you’re mine.”
Oh? I rose onto my tippy toes and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Quit memorizing top highlights of my favorite cheesy romances, Lach.”
He chuckled. “Aye, cheesy? Read better stories.”
“What, like baseball theory? No thanks. Now, let’s play ball.”
The setting sun cast long shadows over the field. The MacKenzie brothers devolved, yelling about whether the brother in prescription glasses actually tagged someone. He was the baby. I think.
I stepped away to grab water when Simona appeared at my side.
Despite the dimming light, she still wore sunglasses. She always seemed to be in hiding. Fear? No. That wasn’t it. Simona could cop a ‘tude faster than anyone I knew. She was cold and unapproachable around everyone. Long, dark hair swept forward, curtaining part of her face, as she handed me a water bottle.
“You okay?” Simona asked, voice low and even.
I twisted the cap, sipped, then nodded. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” Though I hadn’t told her what happened to me on my birthday, she’d witnessed another type of evil in Moscow. That experience had heightened her intuition. Besides, being my cousin, she just knew how to read me.
Simona snatched the sunglasses from a hardened scowl. Yeah, she had a tongue sharper than a dagger, too, but she usually reserved that for her annoying twin baby sisters.
I exhaled. “Jamie invited Enzo.”
“Stop calling him that.”
Though she didn’t express many emotions, this was how she said she was Team Lachasha—even if I hadn’t revealed my secret celebrity name for my relationship with Lachlan. I had thought of Lach & Key, but my name didn’t start with a K. Maybe one day I’d get a heart locket and try …
“Okay,Lorenzo,” I muttered. “I’m not attracted to him.”
“You sure?” Jordyn wrapped me in a hug from behind. “Because you have Italian First Person Shooter vs. Scottish Turquoise Eyes … You got choices.”
“Shouldn’t you hype up your brother-in-law?” I smirked.
Simona tucked one side of her hair behind her ear and leaned against the picnic table. “I will not typecast Lorenzo as the villain. But I gauge people by sight.Now.”
Jordyn’s gaze lingered, as if reading my cousin. Something had happened when Simona was fourteen. For over a year, Simona had lived at my house, claiming she’d wanted to attend an American school. It gutted Uncle Sim. And similar to how I hurt Pop’s feelings—and mine in an indirect way—I figured she had fallen away from her family. Didn’t connect.
She’d also gotten into self-harm. I told no one. After a while, she’d become so close. The sister I never had. And she’d clung to my mom, like she was her own. Because Simona had the deep skin tone of my momma, they resembled each other more than me.
That was the beauty of the other half of my heritage. The African roots dug down deep into the blood. All of us younger Resnovs looked different, but the same. Thicker hair, thicker lips, and the most beautiful shades ever came from my momma’s and aunt’s sides of the family.
Now, just stop thinking about your rapist, Tash, and remember why you cherish your Russian roots too.
I glanced around. The blacker-the-berry effect was also beginning to influence the MacKenzies’ Scottish ancestry as well.
