I looked from my mother’s name to Nadia standing barefoot in my shirt, shaking with relief and fear in equal measure.
Then I handed her the phone still connected to Lev.
“Talk to your brother,” I said. “Use my room. Lock the door if you want.”
Her eyes searched mine. “Where are you going?”
“To explain to my family and the Kasks that you’re not leaving this house unless you choose to walk beside me.”
Nadia’s hand closed around the phone.
I waited until she had it.
Then I picked up my discarded shirt, pulled it on, and walked toward the bedroom door while Galina’s call kept vibrating in my hand.
Behind me, Nadia said my name.
I stopped.
She stood by the bed with my phone against her chest, hair loose, mouth swollen from mine, fear still on her face and fire still under it.
“Don’t kill anyone because of me,” she said.
I looked at her bare legs below my shirt, at the woman Gennady had tried to turn into a receipt, at the bride I would earn only if I kept my hands steady now.
“I’ll do what keeps you and Petya alive,” I said.
Then I stepped into the hall and answered my mother’s call.
Chapter Five
I woke in Vadim Sorin’s bed with my thighs sore, my mouth dry, and late-autumn light cutting pale lines across the black sheets.
For a few seconds, I didn’t move.
The room was too warm to be my apartment. Too quiet. No radiator banging like an angry old man in the wall. No television glow from the living room because Petya had fallen asleep with the sound off and guilt sitting beside him. No neighbor shouting through plaster. No smell of boiled cabbage, burnt coffee, or rain leaking through old window tape.
Just clean sheets. Warm air. City glass. The faint scent of Vadim’s soap on the pillow beside me.
The scent pulled last night back before I was ready.
I turned my face into the pillow and shut my eyes.
That was a mistake.
Memory came in pieces. His mouth between my thighs. His hands holding mine down because I’d asked him not to let me hide. The weight of him over me. The rough, controlled sound of his voice when he told me I would come for him again. The way he’d stopped at every threshold until I crossed it, then took me like restraint had been a locked room and I’d handed him the key.
Heat moved through me, low and traitorous.
I opened my eyes.
The other side of the bed was empty.
A folded robe lay across the footboard, deep blue silk against the black coverlet. Beside it sat a tray with a glass of water, teain a white pot, toast, berries, and a small dish of honey so gold it looked obscene in the quiet room.
Men like Gennady left bruises and called them terms.
Vadim left breakfast and locked doors.
