Nadya laughs and pets the spot on her other side. “Come sit. I’ll tell it again, if you want. You look awful, though. Long day?”
“She looks beautiful,” Iosif protests, reaching behind Nadya to smooth the backs of his fingers against my cheek. The gesture is so like my father’s from before—and yet, entirely different. Iosif’s hands are those of a killer. But they are the ones who would never hurt me.
And I have to lie to him.
Guilt needles from within when I press back into his touch. The comfort it brings my soul only makes me feel worse.
“You two are gross,” Nadya gags, but when I look at her, she grins happily. Like she never got hurt at all. But she did. She got hurt, and I’m part of why.
My fault,I think, looking at the bandage peeking through the neckline of Nadya’s shirt.Because I pushed him.
“Nell?” Iosif’s hand catches at my nape, thumb tapping against my pulse point for attention. “Still with us?”
I have to blink to refocus. Summoning an apologetic smile, I nod. “Sorry. It really was a long day.”
Nadya’s, too, since she yawns before the last word is out. She’s like a sleepy kitten.
“Pain meds,” Iosif explains with a chuckle. “Let me help her to bed, and I’ll be back. You can tell me all about that day. Or we can do something to erase it.”
“I’m not an invalid!” Nadya snaps, swatting at his hands when he tries to help her up. It’s good to know it isn’t just me he’s a hardass with. He doesn’t relent with her, either. No matter her objections, he helps her down the hallway, beside her every step of the way.
By the time he returns, I’m still not ready to face him.
He drops beside me, taking Nadya’s vacated spot, and pulls me into his side. Like a habit, his lips find my temple. He breathes me in, like he’s been starving for the scent of my shampoo. Tears prick my eyes.
I burrow my face in his chest, hiding there.
“Do you want to talk about it?” His chest rumbles when he asks.
I gave money to my father to keep him from hurting our family,I think.I’m the reason Nadya could’ve died. I can’t tell you, because you’ll kill him. I hate that I can’t let you. I don’t know what to do.
I say none of it. Instead, I shake my head. “Tired,” I mumble into his shirt.
Maybe he’ll let it go. He doesn’t push, but I can almost hear the cogs in his brain turning about whether he should. He tries so hard to get it right with me. It makes me want to sob against him and let him soothe all the hurt, the way only he can.
I don’t expect him to get to his feet and scoop me right off the couch. “Wha…” My eyes bug out of my head.
“I want you in my bed tonight,” he says firmly.
“Iosif, I’m not…” I clear my throat, cheeks heating. “I’m not really in the mood for sex tonight.”
“I said nothing about sex, doll. I said I want you in my bed. I want you to sleep through the night in my arms.” Before I can argue, he adds, “And Nadya thinks we’re the picture of marital bliss. You don’t want to spoil that for her, do you?”
That is, as Nadya sometimes accuses Iosif of, a cheap shot.
And one that works.
For nothing in the world would I ever want to spoil anything for this warm, hilarious, wild sister I’ve gained.
It doesn’t matter if I know I should counter. There are plenty of holes I can blow in his argument. But I know, in my heart of hearts, that I just don’t want to. I don’twantto lie in the dark tonight, plagued by my guilt and hiding from my demons.
“Just for tonight, okay?” my mouth decides, finding the warm crook of his neck.
“We’ll see,” he drawls.
Iosif throws open his bedroom door for us, a winning smile on his lips.
For nothing in the world can I stand to lose it. To lose him.
