I got it all wrong.
Never trust a Bryusov.
32
NATALIA
Leks. The whole world smells like Leks.I sigh and nuzzle against his side, breathing in the strong, clean smell of cedar. He moves away.
Unfair.
I reach for him but find nothing but empty sheets, still warm from where he was lying.
Then I remember that he hates me right now. For no good reason.
Hot tears rush down my face. I open my eyes to bright daylight streaming into an unfamiliar room. I have no idea how I got here, but my head pounds with what feels like a hangover. Did Leksdrugme?
I try to go back to sleep, turning over and burying my face in a soft pillow in an attempt to forget where I am. No luck. I can’t get back to sleep. Not now that I remember everything has gone wrong.
He decided that I betrayed him.Like it was a foregoneconclusion. I couldn’t even summon the words to reply to his accusation. After everything, he still believes I would work with my father. The thought makes me queasy.
I open my eyes again.
Leks is standing beside the bed, looking down at me. The expression on his face isn’t one of tenderness or love.
No, Leks is looking at me like I’m a stranger, his deep blue eyes unfathomable.
“Where are we?”
My voice cracks on the words, scratchy and painful, like I’ve slept for a whole day. He wordlessly hands me a glass of cold water and an aspirin.
I peer out the window of the wooden cabin. No people. No landmarks that I recognize.
All I can see is forest. And mountains. Covered in cedar trees, I realize. I’ve never been so far out of the city. It’s too quiet, just the rush and groan of the wind in the trees.
Leks is staring out the window too. Even feeling groggy from whatever drugs he gave me, I can feel the distrust radiating off him.
Never trust a Bryusov.
It must be more of a deep-set belief than I’d thought.
Because there is no forgiveness in Leks’s eyes.
“You hate me,” I whisper.
His heavy gaze settles on me but he doesn’t deny it.
I’d tried to help Leks and Yuri, I’d thought I was doing enough to be forgiven, but the guilt sinks in again, making my limbs heavy. As his gaze rakes over me, I realize that I’m naked, pulling the sheet up over my breasts.
“Had to check for recording devices,” is all he says.
I shake my head at him. He’s seen me naked countless times over the past week but he thinks I would wear a fucking wire?
He opens a dusty-looking wardrobe and drops a pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, leaving the room. I grab a pair of black leggings and an oversized t-shirt with some kind of fish on it.Suspiciously, they’re in my size. I wonder if this is a place Leks brings women. It would be a left-field choice. It’s not exactly five-star accommodation.
I purposely avoid the mirror after my shower. The tiny bathroom is lined with brown floral linoleum. There was no conditioner, only coconut flavored shampoo, so my hair must be a mess. My lips are chapped from the dry air. No point trying to be fashionable with my fish t-shirt, anyway.
I stumble as I walk into a living room that looks straight out of the 1970s. Brown wood panelling. Yellow flowery curtains. An ancient-looking television. Padded chairs with vinyl covers.
