Shit, what was his question again? Oh yeah, about Cosette…
“Only when she’s had too much to drink,” I explain. “Which is pretty much every day,” I quip, attempting to crack a joke.
But Dimitri doesn’t think it’s funny. No, his face is stony, cold, indifferent. He looks pissed off, and I have no idea why. It’s not like I’m his future wife or his responsibility. I mean, not anymore.And for some reason, that just makes me sad all over again. Shaking my head, I start to walk towards the curb where the car is waiting. I don’t see or hear the bike messenger careening towards me until it’s too late. One minute I’m walking, and the next I’m being pulled backwards out of harm’s way.
Dimitri crushes me to his chest, and I breathe in his familiar scent. The bicyclist yells something at me in another language and flips me off as he pedals quickly past us. The asshole isn’t even supposed to be riding on the sidewalk, but somehow it’s my fault, I guess.
Slowly, I look up at Dimitri. His strong arms cradle me firmly but gently, and the way he looks at me just then has my heart skipping a beat inside my chest. Inside his icy blue gaze, I see a longing that was never there before, and it frightens me.
But before I can even register the emotion in his eyes, I hear my father say, “My god, Savina, you almost got ran over. Thank goodness Dimitri was there.”
Everyone piles out of the restaurant, apparently having witnessed everything through the glass in the front doors.
Reluctantly, I pull away from Dimitri and plaster a fake grin on my face. “Uh, yeah, that was close.”
“Close? He was one second away from running you over,” Cosette chimes in. “Really, Savina, you need to watch where you’re walking. Don’t be so clumsy. You know that bike messengers don’t always adhere to the law and ride on the sidewalks,” she says before hiccupping.
Yeah, she’s had way too much to drink. But maybe that’s lucky for me, because no one seemed to notice how close Dimitri was holding me. And thankfully, no one can read minds, because secretly, I kind of liked it.
“Well, that’s enough excitement for one day,” my father announces. “Let’s get home before something else happens.” He shakes Mr. Sokolov’s hand and says goodbye to Pavel and Dimitri.
I follow Papà to the sedan. My eyes meet Dimitri’s once more before I mouth, “Thank you.”
He gives me a subtle nod before turning away from me.
I climb into the car, my hands still shaking from the adrenaline. I can’t describe how it felt to be in Dimitri’s arms just then, but I know it felt good. I felt safe. Protected. Like he would burn the world down around us just to save me.
We’re sitting in traffic when my father gets a call on his phone. After he hangs up, he tells me, “The apartment I found for you is ready. You can move in whenever you want.”
“Thank you, Papà,” I tell him sincerely.
My stepmother side-eyes me, but I ignore it. No one can bring my mood down right now, not even her. I text Darby the good news, and she’s ecstatic. She tells me she’s already packing and will help me if I need it. I definitely do. With her help, I’ll be packed up and ready to go sooner rather than later.
With a smile on my face, I tuck my phone back into my purse. My body hums with nervous excitement the whole ride home. And I hate to admit it, but I think about Dimitri almost the entire way there. He promised to destroy me at the engagement party, and then tonight he showed concern after he saw the way my stepmother treated me. It’s like he has two different personalities or something. I can’t figure him out, and it’s driving me crazy. But I’ll stick to the way I’ve always been when it comes to Dimitri. I need to just stay away from him; because in the end, history will only repeat itself and he’ll hurt me again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Savina
DARBY STAYED OVER last night,and we’ve been packing up my room all morning. The feeling of finally moving out of my parents’ home to live in my own apartment is freeing, to say the least. And the fact that I’ll finally be away from my stepmother feels like a fever dream, but it’s finally coming true.
Darby raids my closet, throwing clothes into several suitcases as I go through other stuff in my dresser, like my overwhelmingly huge collection of leggings.
“Have you seen some of these bands in concert?” Darby asks as she holds up aSleep Tokentee.
“Sadly, no. But I like their music,” I offer.
“Fair enough. We’re going to make it a point to go see most of these bands live,” she says with finality as she stuffs another concert tee into thesuitcase.
Suddenly, from somewhere downstairs, I hear yelling and screaming. It’s definitely my stepmother having one of her infamous meltdowns. I’d recognize her banshee screech anywhere.
“Where is she?” Cosette hollers, the whole house trembling with her loud, high-pitched voice.
“What’s going on with that crazy bitch now?” Darby wonders out loud with a tired sigh.
“No idea, but I’m sure it will become my problem in three…two…”
“Savina!” Cosette shrieks from downstairs.
