I can’t help the laugh that stumbles out of me. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
Her big round eyes widen and she flushes an even deeper shade of pink. “I’m not flustered.”
Yes, you are.
“I’ll stop, don’t worry. But to answer your question, I guess you could say I’m one of them. Mistrustful, not so much. I’m sure Apollo wishes I was more skeptical like he is, but I happen to like letting people show me who they are—rather than assuming the worst in them.”
Anya nods. “So you struggle with the mistrustful part, but not the trained killer part?”
“Well now I’m really wondering if you’re trying to get some kind of confession out of me,” I tease. “I don’t struggle with that part, but I don’t relish it either. It is what it is. I like my family and my life, and that just happens to be a large part of it. Does that bother you?”
“N-no.” She nibbles on her bottom lip, considering her reply. “I know that your family is a good one. There are bad ones, and father wouldn’t let Dmitri stay there if he thought you all wouldbe a bad influence on him. If you’re good like my brothers, then it doesn’t bother me.”
I nod along as she speaks. “So, you think your brothers are good?”
“I know they are.” Anya frowns. “I miss them sometimes.”
I don’t want to make her uncomfortable talking about them, but she brought them up. I won’t change the topic unless she wants to. Maybe it’s easier for her to think of them and to speak of them then to actually see them.
“I’m sure they miss you just as much.” If not more.
She shrugs, shoulders rising and falling shortly. “You’re kind to say that.”
“Not kind, just truthful,” I correct. “With the way they’ve both questioned me about my intentions, I know they care deeply for you.”
“They did that?” Her voice almost trembles.
“Of course they did.” I swallow, trying to decide my next words carefully. “If you ever want to ask me about them, you can. I know you haven’t spoken to them, and you don’t have to tell me why, but?—”
“They saw me,” she blurts out, cutting me off.
“They saw you?” I echo, keeping my tone low and unintimidating.
“That night.” She exhales hard and shaky. “My brothers saw more of me than a brother should ever see of their sister. Battered and bleeding, on top of it. I…I can’t look at them without seeing that night. I can’t talk to them, even though I want to. It was hard enough to face my father again, and he’s my—he’s my dad. He watched me be born. He bathed me as a baby. It’s not the same as Dmitri and Ivan.”
Her eyes have gone hazy and cloudy with tears, but none of them fall.
“That must be so difficult,” I respond gently. “I know what you mean, not about what you went through, of course. But that it’s different with your brothers than it is with your father. It’s a bit different as a guy, I admit. My brothers have all seen each other in compromising positions, but I would never want Jade to see me that way. Brothers and sisters, it’s not a relationship that can be explained easily.”
“Yeah,” she croaks, sniffing and touching her face with the back of her hand as if she’s checking for tears. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get so emotional.”
“Don’t apologize.” I shake my head firmly. “I was just telling you that you can talk about anything. Ask about anything. I’m here for you. If you want to say it, I want to hear it. Honestly.”
Anya visibly swallows and seems to compose herself. “Thank you. Maybe we should go back to more lighthearted stuff for now, though.”
I flash her a smile, hoping it helps to calm her further. “You got it. I even have a topic of great lighthearted importance to discuss with you.”
She chuckles. “Oh, you do, do you?”
Seriously, I tell her, “I’m a wealth of conversational talking points, Anya.”
“Let’s hear it then.”
After pausing for dramatic effect, I ask, “Cats or dogs?”
Chapter Thirteen
Matteo
