We don't speak again for the rest of the flight.
—
The plane lands smoothly,taxiing to a private hangar. When the door opens, cold air rushes in, carrying the smell of jet fuel and salt water. I unbuckle and stand, my body protesting every movement.
Kazimir stands too, blocking the aisle. "Svetlana?—"
"Move." I try to shoulder my way past him.
"Just listen for a minute?—"
"I said move."
He doesn't. He just stands there, looking at me with those pale eyes, and I can see everything he's not saying written on his face.
I hate him for making me want him after everything that happened before. For leaving me and then saving me and then fucking me, and then acting like he might try to save me again.
"Where will you go?" he asks quietly.
"That's none of your business."
"I just want to make sure you're safe?—"
"Safe?" I laugh, and it comes out harsh and bitter. "I haven't been safe since the day I met Ilya. Since the day you and your boss decided I was acceptable collateral damage."
"That's not?—"
"Move, Kazimir. I'm not going to ask again."
He stares at me for another long moment. Then he steps aside. I push past him, my shoulder brushing his chest, and head for the door. The stairs are steep, and my feet scream in protest with every step. But I don't slow down or look back.
"Svetlana, wait!" I hear him take a step forward, but I keep walking.
"Fuck you." I spit the word over my shoulder as I stride across the tarmac, knowing that I don’t know where I’m headed and not caring. The last thing I’m going to do is ask Kazimir for a ride. All I have left is a shred of my pride, and I’m clinging to it with all that I’m worth.
Which used to be a lot.
"I'm trying to help you!" he yells after me, and it takes everything in me to keep going. My feet and legs already hurt. I need more rest. I need to sleep for a week. I need…
"I don't want your help!" I'm shouting now, and I don't care who hears. "I don't want anything from you!"
"You should be grateful," he says, and his voice has gone cold. "I saved your life. The least you could do is?—"
I stop in my tracks and spin around. "Grateful?" The word comes out as harsh as a slap, and I hope it feels like one. "You want me to be grateful?"
"I risked everything to get you out of there?—"
"It was the least you could do!" The words come out just shy of a scream, rage and pain bubbling up inside of me as I glare at him from across the space between us. "After you abandoned me the first time! After you and Ilya left me to rot!"
"That wasn't?—"
"You knew!" My voice cracks. "You knew what would happen to me, and you left anyway! You chose Ilya over me, and I paid the price!"
"I didn’t know. And I didn't have a choice?—"
"There's always a choice!" Tears are streaming down my face now, hot and angry. "You made yours. You chose your loyalty to him over everything else. Over me."
"Svetlana—"
