by Marian Tee
Sergei caught her wrist in a grip with a shake of his head.
Seri wanted to throw up. Oh God, it was like that night all over again, and she had to force herself to hit on Fyodor, who had been the only father she had ever known.
But that night had been her choice, and this – this was her only choice, too.
With Sergei still staring at her, she said bitterly, “I know what you’re thinking. You probably think I’m sick and disgusting and that you wish I had never been—-”
“No.”
And then Sergei smiled, that gentle, beautiful smile which he had always given her every time she went to him as a child, wanting his reassurance that he would always be her big brother forever.
Seri’s fingers tightened around the swing’s chains.
“All I was thinking, Seri, was to let you have your say because it was clear to me that you seemed to think it was what I should hear. And now it’s my turn. Why didn’t you answer any of our calls?”
She didn’t answer, couldn’t bear to tell him she had been too afraid to even check if he or Misha had contacted her.
Because if they hadn’t—-
It would have been the final nail in the coffin, and she wouldn’t be able to go on dreaming that one day she would be their little sister again.
“Do you have your phone with you?”
She nodded.
“Call your voice mail. I’ll be waiting in the car. I’d like to think that I know you well enough to know that you couldn’t be like this to me and Misha if you had listened to our messages.”
She watched him walk away from her, and she nearly, nearly cried out for him to stop.
Please stop walking away.
She was so, so tired of always getting left behind.
Taking her phone out, she shakily dialed her voice mail and played back the messages.
Sergei: I heard from Papa. Call me.
Misha: Vassi told me what happened. Where are you? Come back home.
Sergei: Let me at least know you’re fine, baby. We can still fix this, so please just call me or Misha.
Misha: I know you’re scared, Seri, but you don’t have to be. We’re here for you, and I’ll beat the hell out of anyone who tries to hurt you. That includes Vassi.
Sergei: I know you’re in Tokyo now. I’m glad you’re taking some time off. Take care there. We love you and miss you, baby.
Misha: Welcome back, little dove. It pisses me off that you’ve chosen to ask help from Max and not me, but I’m just glad you’re back home. The only reason I didn’t visit you in Tokyo was because Sergei told me you needed time and space to figure things out on your own. Is he right?
By the time she finished reading their messages and listening to their voice mails, her iPhone’s screen was completely wet and she had to wipe it with her shirt before she could type a text for Misha.
I’m sorry it took me so long to answer, Misha. I love you.
Misha: I understand, little dove. Love you. I can’t call you right now, if I hear your voice and you start to cry, I might start picking a fight with Vassi and Papa again. Come visit your poor, lonely brother in uni when you have the time.
Seri: I will. I really miss you.
Misha: Miss you, too.
Sliding her phone back in her pocket, she slowly made her way to where Sergei’s car was idling. It was fairly easy to spot since like the other boys in the family, Sergei mostly preferred being driven around in a limousine.
She knocked on the window, and the door opened. Sergei stepped out of the car, and she threw herself in his arms.
Hugging his sister tightly, Sergei kissed the top of her head, saying, “It’s going to be alright, baby. It’s going to be alright.”
Chapter Thirteen
Inside the limousine, Seri found herself seated on the floor, her head on her brother’s knee as she told him everything that had happened. She had used to do this as a child during the rare instances that Fyodor had gotten angry with her.
Remembering those times made Seri squeeze her eyes shut, and she whispered, “He still hates me, doesn’t he?”
“Who’s he?”
Looking up at Sergei, she said in a small voice, “Fyodor.” When her brother just stared, she admitted faintly, “I can’t make myself call him that—-”
“Papa?”
She nodded. “I feel like I don’t deserve to anymore, after w-what I did, and if you saw the way he looked at me that night—-” Seri choked back a sob.
Sergei sighed. “You cannot blame him for being furious and for not seeing or thinking clearly, Seri. Papa has always been terrified of raising you the wrong way – of doing something that would besmirch Marianna’s memories.” Choosing his words carefully, he said, “That was why when you acted like his worst nightmare come to life – if you think he came down hard on you, believe me when I say Papa was harder on himself.”
“He looked like he wanted to kill me that night,” she remembered painfully.
“His anger is entirely self-directed, baby. He blames himself for how he thinks you turned out.” He stroked her hair, saying, “It’s the same reason why Vassi found it so easy to believe your lies.”
Seri stiffened. “W-what do you mean?”
Sergei smiled. “Did you really think Misha and I were unaware of his feelings – or yours?”
She could only stare at him in shock.
“When you pretended to be a suka – forgive me if I cannot use the word in English. I do not like using it when talking about you.” Sergei grimaced. “In any case, when you pretended to be that type of person, Vassi no doubt saw it as his divine punishment. Even without him saying anything, Misha and I had always known he felt guilty about loving you. He believed it was wrong of him to want something that could destroy our family.”
Seri looked away.
“What is it, Seri?”
“But it did destroy our family.”
“No, it didn’t, Seri. Once the truth is out, you’ll see that it’s only made us stronger.”
The car slid to a stop then, and Sergei frowned when he realized they had made it to Maximilian Rockford’s condominium. “Are you sure you still wish to stay here?”
“Yes.” She hesitated before blurting out, “Thank you, Sergei. I was so scared that—-”
“That Misha or I would feel the same as the others?” he guessed.
She nodded.
“That won’t ever happen.” He smiled down at her. “For Misha and me, you will always be our baby sister.”
As Sergei accompanied her up to Max’s place, Seri asked hesitantly, “If I go to Papa now, d-do you think he will forgive me?”
“Absolutely.” Sergei’s tone became grim. “And once you make him understand the truth, you must help him forgive himself.”
She bit her lip. “Is he at home then?”
“Unfortunately, no. He’s probably on his way to our summer place.”
“Maybe I can catch up—-”
Sergei was already shaking his head before she could even finish talking. “I heard from the weather report that there’s a storm coming tonight. It would be better if you stay put and wait when he comes back.” Sergei kissed her cheek. “I have to go now. Take care of yourself and please do not go after Papa. It can wait. There’s no need to hurry, Seri.”
But there was.
She didn’t know how to explain it, but she just had this feeling that she had to apologize to Fyodor now.
After making sure Sergei had left, she called for a cab and gave the address of their summer cabin. Halfway to their destination, lightning started to flash and thunder began to roll.
“You sure you don’t want us turning back?” the cab driver asked. “We’re still an hour away.”
She nodded firmly. “Very sure.”
When they made it to the last main road before reaching the cabin, it was to see their path blocked by barricades. Policemen in raincoats hailed them down.
“Sorry, sir, ma’am. You need
to turn back due to inclement weather.”
“But we have a place just up ahead—-”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s the sheriff’s order.”
Seeing that there was no point arguing with the officer, she forced a smile, saying, “I understand.”
When the police officer left, the cab driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “Do we go back now?”
She shook her head slowly. “I’ll need you to drop me off somewhere else instead.” This time, she had the cab driver drop her off at a narrow back road. As she guessed, the police hadn’t barricaded it and she would only have to walk five minutes to access the cliffside road leading to Fyodor’s summer cabin.
“Are you seriously going to walk?” the driver asked worriedly. The storm had intensified in just the past five minutes, with rain falling hard it was like bullets hitting the roof of the cab.
“I’ll be fine,” she said reassuringly as she gave him her payment. “Thank you for worrying.”
The driver handed her a portable umbrella, saying gruffly, “Take this at least.”
Her eyes widened. “Thank you!”
Ten minutes later, and the umbrella proved to be a huge help, protecting her from the rain’s lashing as she struggled to continue walking uphill. With the wind coming from the opposite direction, she had an even harder and slower time moving, and she had to hold on to her umbrella tightly as the wind threatened to carry it off any minute.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the fork leading to the main road, which was far enough for the barricades with its reflector lights to be barely visible from where she was standing.
It was when Seri was just a few minutes away from the cabin that she spied a car precariously hanging on the edge of the cliff, with half its body crushed under the weight of a storm-toppled tree.
Moving forward, she thought the car looked familiar. She squinted through the rain until she could make sense of the license plate.
Seri whitened.
Fyodor!
That was Fyodor’s car.
Without thinking, she tossed the umbrella away and broke into a run, screaming, “Papa?”
Fyodor wearily opened his eyes when he heard someone screaming. What he saw made him blink past the mix of sweat and blood blurring his gaze.
“Papa! Papa!”
His gaze cleared, and he realized that it wasn’t an apparition at all.
It really was Seri, and she was staring at him with a stricken look on her face.
“Get away from me!” he managed to rasp.
The fury in Fyodor’s voice made Seri’s eyes sting, but she reminded herself doggedly about Sergei’s words.
With the tree bearing down on the car’s hood and roof, there was no way for her to go through the doors to pull Fyodor out, leaving her with only one other alternative.
“I’m c-coming in.” Taking a deep breath, Seri slowly and carefully climbed through the hole left by the shattered window at the back, doing her best to avoid the larger shards of glass scattered all over.
The car started to swing downwards at her weight, and she froze.
Fyodor’s heart jumped to his throat, and he said sharply, “I don’t need your help.” He knew he should no longer care about Seri, but goddamn it, he did. He still thought of her as his daughter, even knowing that she wasn’t the girl he thought she was.
Ignoring his words, she said shakily, “W-we don’t have much time, Papa—-”
“Don’t call me that.”
“S-sorry.” She bit her lip hard. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. With a third of the car already hanging off the cliff, now was not the time for tears.
Seri moved forward, more carefully this time, and the car barely shifted.
“If you think this will make me change my mind about you, it won’t,” Fyodor gritted out, “so why don’t you just leave—-”
“Not without you.”
Fyodor didn’t know what to feel as he watched Seri move towards him.
Why did it have to be like this, God?
The last thing he remembered was losing control of the car because of the slippery road before crashing through the steel rails. When he woke up, it was to find himself trapped under a tree inside his car and with a gash in the forehead and broken ribs.
He had thought death was inevitable – until he heard Seri’s voice calling out to him.
She moved another inch and the car swung downward again. Outside, rain continued pouring hard, making the ground softer, and her blood turned cold as she realized she had so little time left to get Fyodor out of the car.
“Pa—-Fyodor,” she whispered. “What do you need me to do?” When he didn’t answer, she pleaded, “Please. We don’t have much time.”
He said finally, “My seatbelt. If you can release it, I can free myself.”
“I g-get it.” She swallowed. “But if I reach for your seatbelt, you’ll have to move quick. The car could—-” She had a feeling the car wouldn’t be able to bear both their weights for too much time before it went crashing down with a fifty-foot drop.
“I know.” Fyodor’s voice was harsh. “I’ll make it.”
“At the count of three then.”
Fyodor nodded.
“One.”
Tension wrapped around him, but he forced himself to concentrate.
“Two.
The horrendous taste of fear filled her mouth, but Seri deliberately ignored it.
“Three.”
She reached for his seatbelt, pushing the release button hard. A moment later, the seatbelt released with a swooshing sound. At the same time, the car started swinging down.
“Now, Papa!”
Grunting with the effort, Fyodor pushed the tree off him, just enough so he could wriggle free. He swiftly moved up, causing the car to swing towards the road and for everything inside the car to roll and tumble towards Seri. He heard Seri suck in her breath as he finally freed himself.
They scrambled out of the car as the car swung downward one last time before falling—-
Seri blanched at the powerful thud as the car crashed into the ground.
Shaken and ashen-faced, Fyodor managed to get to his feet on his own. Forcing himself to look at Seri, he said roughly, “Thank you.”
Seri had saved his life.
Fyodor didn’t know what to make of it.
Or maybe he did – he just wasn’t sure if it was right.
Seri tried her best to smile, but it was hard.
She was feeling so...faint.
She took one step towards Fyodor—-
And slowly, she felt herself start to fall.
“Seri!” Fyodor managed to catch her in time, and as she lay limply in his arms, that was when he saw the blood spreading on her shirt and the shred of glass sticking too close to her heart.
No.
God.
No.
Fyodor’s heart beat against his chest as Seri remained terrifyingly still in his arms.
Please, God, no.
Somehow, he found the presence of mind to look for her phone. He called 911. “My – my daughter. She’s bleeding. Please. Help her.”
“Your location, sir.”
He gave it. “P-please hurry. She’s not moving.” He could feel himself close to breaking down. “Please. My daughter’s not moving.”
“We understand, sir. Paramedics are on their way. Please stay on the line while we wait.”
He looked down at Seri.
He remembered the question he had so selfishly asked.
Why did it have to be like this, God?
And now he knew the answer.
He tightened his hold on his baby. “Stay with me,” Fyodor whispered. “Stay with me, baby.” But there was no answer.
He started to weep.
God, save my daughter.
Chapter Fourteen
Knocking on the door before entering, Vassi saw the university’s laboratory nearly empty save for one person.
&
nbsp; “Rockford.” He gave the other man a curt nod, his fists clenched against his sides.
“Grachyov.” Max swung his stool to face the youngest Grachyov brother. “Misha’s inside his office if you’re looking for him.”
“Thanks.”
As he turned towards the opposite direction, he heard Max grate out behind him, “You don’t deserve her.”
Vassi stilled. Without looking back, he said flatly, “That’s probably the only thing we agree on.” When he entered Misha’s office, he saw his older brother on his feet, his back to the door.
“I know you heard everything.”
Turning away from the window, Misha murmured noncommittally, “So I did.”
“And you know who we’re talking about, of course. You’ve always known.”
Misha’s expression remained unreadable.
Vassi took a deep breath. “I’m in love with Seri.”
“Your sister.”
“My stepsister,” he said sharply.
“Semantics,” Misha dismissed coldly. “Have you paused to think what Papa would say about this?”
“Every day.” He smiled humorlessly. “I’ve been in love with her since I was fourteen, and not one fucking day has passed since then that I don’t think about what it would do to Papa and our family.”
“I see.” Misha carefully removed his glasses and took his time folding its temples before placing it on the desk. The air cracked with tension, and in the corner of his eye Misha caught sight of his younger brother growing more rigid with each second that passed.
Good. Once word came out about his relationship with Seri, what he was feeling now would just be the start. If Vassi couldn’t handle this small amount of pressure, then what he told Max was true. Vassi didn’t deserve to be with their sister, and Misha would be the first to prevent them from being together.
When a sufficient amount of time had passed, Misha finally looked up, and Vassi’s gaze met his straight on.
Good, he thought, but it wasn’t enough. He asked slowly, “If your feelings have existed for so long, why are you telling me about it now?”
