I squeal in fright and lift the book over my chest like a shield.
“Who are you?” we both say at the same time.
But then his eyes flash with recognition, and he whispers, “Stefania Shevchenko?”
The shock in his voice is unmistakable.
“Yes,” I say cautiously. “How do you know me?”
“I’m Simon. Marlen’s brother. Uh, your family has been looking for you. Talia is worried sick. What are you doing here?” he asks, taking a few steps back to give me some space.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Rolling my shoulders, I try to ease the fright from my body.
“I’m, um, I was…” I don’t know how to answer him.Whose side is he on? What will he do? I know nothing about this man or how he’ll react.
Simon’s face darkens, and his lips set in a firm line. He looks so similar to Marlen in some ways, yet so different in others. “Marlen kidnapped you,” he huffs angrily.
“No, um…”Yes.
“You don’t have to defend him. I don’t know if he threatened you or something, but it’s pointless trying to convince me otherwise. He obviously kidnapped you,” Simon says, leaning his back against the kitchen counter and folding his arms across his chest as he studies me.
I bite my lip and fidget with the book in my hands.
“Are you ok?” he asks after a while.
“Yes,” I nod.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No, he um…” I press my lips together.
“He what?” Simon demands.
“He, um, married me. He made me marry him,” I mutter.
Simon sneers in anger and shakes his head. “For fuck sake. He lied to me when I asked him if he knew where you were. I especially told him I wanted to find out for Talia’s sake. She begged me to help look for you,” he says, talking to himself more than me.
“Talia?” I perk up, realizing he’d mentioned her earlier as well, but I was too stunned to register it.
“My sister,” he says as a way of explanation.
“I know. She’s my friend. Obviously, you know that. A very good friend, actually. Have you spoken to her recently? Is my family… are they worried about me?” I ask, my stomach churning with anxiety.Of course they’re worried. They’re probably living in constant stress while you’re out here going on island holidays with the enemy.
He’s not the enemy. Not anymore.
He is to them.
“They’re obviously worried, Stef. They haven’t stopped looking for you. Your brothers are going crazy not knowing where you are,” he tells me, his tone heavy with regret. “I can’t believe Marlen did this behind my back,” he mutters.
For a while, Simon and I stand in the kitchen in silence. Neither of us knows how to handle the situation. He doesn’t want to rat his brother out, and I don’t want to get Marlen in trouble with anyone. Marlen hasn’t hurt me. He hasn’t harmed me at all.He’s a good man with a good heart.
But I hate the idea of my family suffering with worry.
“Simon?” I ask nervously.
“Yes?”
“Is there possibly some way that you could get a message to my family without implicating Marlen? And without Marlen knowing about it? I want them to know I’m alive and unharmed, but nothing more than that,” I ask, watching his face to try and gauge his reaction.
