The water is hot enough to be almost uncomfortable, and I stand in it and let it run, hoping it’s possible to clean up all my thoughts.
When I step out, I’m drawn to my bed, which I haven’t slept in in two weeks. The pillow is too perfectly placed, the duvet undisturbed. I lie down in it.
It feels wrong.
I stare at the ceiling and push the feeling aside.
Is he okay?He seemed fine. He was walking, and despite all the blood on his clothes and hands, it didn’t look like it was his.
But there was so much blood.
The thought that follows arrives with a heavy darkness:What if none of it was his?
I lie still with this thought.
He was out there for, how long? An hour? More? And when he came back inside, he was covered. The men in the foyer were covered, and the bodies on the floor were?—
He’s done this before. And he’ll do it again. It’s why he has a safe room.
I’ve been living in a house where this kind of thing happens.
And he was in the middle of it, moving through it, and from the way Alexei and Mikhail talk about him, from the way the guards look at him when he crosses a room, from the silence that falls when he speaks, it’s clear.
He wasn’t out there managing it. He was doing it.
He might be a monster,I think,but he’s a monster who protected us.
Terror and a disturbing comfort alternate in my chest all night. I keep thinking until all the pieces I didn’t put together start to click into place one at a time.
I didn’t sleep, but at least I can say it was a productive night because I gathered the courage to act.
I don’t wait for my alarm to ring. Instead, I rip myself from bed and barrel straight to his office.
I don’t knock. I walk in, and I don’t stop walking until I’m in the middle of the room.
He’s at the desk, clean, composed. I can’t see injuries anywhere, so he must be fine, right?
He looks up.
My body acts against my will, almost relaxing with his eyes on me, almost making me give up.
I breathe in and push the feeling aside.
“Who are you?” My voice comes out steadier than I expect. “What happened here yesterday?”
He holds my gaze and says nothing.
“Rolan.” I keep my voice level. “Tell me what’s going on. Tell me who you are and what this house is, or I’ll leave this place.”
His expression shifts as he stands.
“You think you have a choice?”
The reply takes me by surprise.
“I do have a?—”
“You’ll stay.” He comes around the desk. “Because I want you to stay. That’s all.”
