by R. J. Lewis
“Why wouldn’t we be, beautiful?”
She shrugs. “Because you’ve been upset a lot, and now you’re better.”
“I don’t mean to be upset.”
“I know, but when Mom left, you were sad all the time.”
I smile tenderly. “Everything’s okay now.”
She frowns, her thumb rubbing back and forth on the chain. “Mom was sad when she left. I was scared you’d leave me too.”
I bump her again so she looks at me. “It doesn’t matter how sad I ever get, I could never leave you, Scar. Never, ever. It won’t happen. I promise.”
She nods, and I know it’s one of those times I can’t help her. A promise is carried out through actions, not words.
Scarlett goes down the slide after that, and we play a bit of tag. On our way home, we stop by the shops and I buy her some snacks. Chocolates and waffles and these Dora the Explorer gummies that look sickly sweet. I never notice the rose she picks up in the flower aisle until we’re in the check out. I pick it up out of the shopping basket and inspect it.
“To make the house look brighter,” Scarlett explains timidly. It’s the first time she’s never flat out asked for something. I think in that moment I realize clearly just how much my stress has affected her. I feel like shit for it.
“Brilliant idea,” I tell her with a grin. “You’re really smart.”
Her cheeks go pink at the compliment. Her mood is lifted greatly, and she skips home by my side, munching on her chocolate.
I haven’t felt so rich in my life.
*
As I lay next to Scarlett that night, I gaze at the rose sitting in the vase on the night stand. My fingers run through the petals and down the stem. What a pretty fleeting little thing. I don’t know how long it’ll be before it starts to droop and die, but I like staring at it.
My other hand is currently tucked under the pillow, touching at the envelope. It stands for so much to me right now. A way out, and a fresh start. I just don’t know where or what I’ll do when I get there.
I’ve spent so much of my life dreaming of being behind the wheel of a car, driving across the country until I find a nice little place to call home. But now that it’s actually possible I start to question everything.
I have no qualifications, no experience. I know if I could go to school I’d do something to help others like myself. But I can’t possibly save enough money to throw into schooling. I’d rather it go to Scarlett’s education than myself. She’s the blank slate, uncorrupted and untouched. She deserves every single penny I get out of this thing I’m doing with Nikolai.
Funny I could be so selfless when I used to think of nothing but myself. Funnier too when I think of how little I have in common with the girl I used to be five years ago. I don’t think I’d be able to stand ten minutes with her.
Life is strange.
I fall asleep with that thought, and I don’t stir until the middle of the night when I hear the faint sound of creaks drift through the unit. I open my eyes and stare into darkness, knowing there’s nothing there, that I’m probably having a nightmare and I’m half-conscious.
Still.
I have this feeling of being observed. Worse yet, when I get up in the morning, feeling safe with the sun streaming through the window, I’m almost convinced that things are out of place than when I left them. Was the toilet paper hanging that far? Did I really leave the kitchen towel on the counter? And is it like me not to put the knife back into its place?
*
I drop Scarlett off, and this time when I do I walk around Roberta’s unit. I do this sometimes just to be sure all is okay. Roberta always gives me this insulted look, pursing her lips as I glance into every single room.
“I’m just making sure,” I tell her.
“Sure of what?” she asks dryly. “If you’re looking for the serial killer, he’s hiding in my closet under all my bedsheets.”
“Sorry,” I apologize, watching Scarlett as she puts together one of Roberta’s puzzles on the floor. “I just…I feel out of sorts lately and paranoid.”
Her face softens. “It’s natural for a mother to feel that way.”
“I’m not her mother.”
“You may as well be, darling, with everything you do for her.”
“It’s not easy, Roberta.”
“No, it’s not. But Scarlett has a heart of gold. Right now she needs to feel like someone’s there for her, and I think you’re doing it right.”
I give her a soft smile. “Thank you.”
“Now are you done inspecting my unit, or do you need sniffer dogs to finish it off?”
“Are you giving me permission?”
She laughs. “Bloody mouth on you.”
I leave the lunch I made for Scarlett in Roberta’s fridge. Then I leave, and it’s always hard walking away from Scarlett. I always feel like I’m leaving a part of me behind.
I’m seconds from taking the elevator when the doors slide open. I sigh long and hard at the beautiful sight before me. There’s another drunk dude sleeping inside, and he’s pissed himself. My nose wrinkles in disgust. Why? Why do they do this? If they made it far enough to the building, they can’t make it far enough to their door?
Disgusted, I let the doors close on him and walk to the stairwell. I bloody hate taking the stairs. The lighting is so dim, there are shadows in every corner. I always feel like I’m going to get stabbed to death, especially around level three where there is an especially pungent smell in the air and…sticky puddles on the ground.
Level three is definitely where hope gets mutilated to death.
I make it out alive and am about to open the glass door when I look up and see him. Immediately I come to a stop.
Nikolai is standing out front of my apartment building, hands in the pockets of yet another fine suit. He’s leaning back against his car, He has this habit of looking around him, taking in his surroundings with this concentrated expression on his face.
What is he doing here?
I feel kind of special right now, because I know whatever he’s here for, it’s to do with me.
I’m nervous when I open the door, catching his attention. My body warms when his eyes connect with mine. He pushes off the car and waits for me. As I move, I catch his eyes drift over me, settling on the white flowy skirt I sort of hoped he’d see me in. His face softens; he looks almost breathless as he journeys up my body to my face where his gaze lingers longer.
He makes me feel beautiful with a single look.
I thought our dynamic would change, but here we are and he can’t keep his eyes off of me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, wringing my hands together as I stop in front of him.
“I was in the neighbourhood,” he answers, shrugging casually, like him standing here in front of my building is nothing unusual.
I fight the twitch in my lips. “In the neighbourhood? Really?”
He smirks, this devilish glint in his eye. “Really, Alina.”
My stomach clenches at the way he says my name, similar to the ache in his voice when he moaned it in my ear the last time he took me.
“I usually walk,” I explain. “It’s not far.”
He doesn’t waste a second with his response. “Then I’ll walk with you.”
I look at his car and then at him. “You really don’t need to do that, Nikolai.”
“I want to.”
“But your car…”
“My car is an inanimate object. I’m sure I won’t hurt its feelings.”
“Ah, smartass.”
He smiles. “Come on. Let’s walk. I need to stretch my legs out.”
I shrug. “Sure, if you’re prepared to have your inanimate object busted into.”
“It’s just a car.”
“It’s a lot of money.”
“So are you, but the difference is you’re worth it.”
Fuck he’s smooth, worse yet I don’t even think he is trying to be.
Breathe
.
“It’s just a walk, Alina.”
I nod slowly. Yeah, just a walk.
He abandons his car in the shittiest area known to mankind and walks with me. For a couple minutes I resist looking at him. At most I catch sight of his tatted hands, but even that stops me cold when I imagine one wrapped around my throat.
Still. I wonder what they all mean. What are the symbols on his fingers? What do the writings on his chest, abdomen and back say? And who the hell is he really? He was evasive the last time I questioned him, and I reckon he’ll be that way again if I push.
And I don’t want to push.
I don’t want to know Nikolai.
I keep my lips sealed, determined to keep this intense man at arm’s reach.
“Does your sister always stay with your neighbour while you work?” he asks, curiously.
I nod. “With Roberta, yes.”
“And before that it was your mother?”
“Barely.”
“When she left” – he looks at me – “your sister was with your neighbour?”
I cast my eyes to the ground, not answering right away. When I do, my voice is small. “Roberta was at the breast clinic. I couldn’t afford to miss work, and Mom was sober, so…”
He’s quiet for a moment. Then, “It wasn’t your fault.”
I can’t speak, because I sure as shit feel like it’s my fault.
We walk in silence the rest of the way there. His fingers brush against mine occasionally, and I don’t know if it’s just because we’re so close to one another, or if he’s doing it purposely, but my fingers twitch every time I feel him.
When we make it to the store, I grip my purse strap harder and turn to him. I want to thank him for walking me, but the way he stares at me knocks me speechless.
“I want to see you again, Alina,” he strains out.
My chest tightens, but I don’t how to answer.
“When are you coming back to me? Give me a time, rybka.”
I open my mouth, stammering, “I don’t know. It’s…I have work and…”
He looks over my shoulder, at the entrance. “You don’t have to work here.”
Is he crazy? “Of course I do.”
“Doesn’t my help ensure that you don’t?”
“Your… help is temporary.”
“Temporary,” he repeats, looking away from me and down the street. “I can have a position for you at my shop, and it wouldn’t be temporary.”
“I don’t want to work for you.”
He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “You want to keep me as far from you as possible, don’t you?”
“It’s not wrong to keep what’s between us simple,” I explain. “If you throw in me working for you in a place I’ll always be around you then…things blur.”
“How?”
“I become your employee and your whore?”
He freezes, his eyes cutting back to mine, this chilling expression on his face. “Whore? Is that what you think you are when you’re with me?”
“I get paid to pleasure you.”
“You get paid to be in my company.”
“What’s the difference?”
His face tightens. We stare at each other and the tension climbs in a matter of seconds.
“Do you want to stop what we’re doing?” he suddenly asks.
My heart stops in panic, and I quickly shake my head. “No, I don’t.”
I’ve answered quicker than I would have liked, but it’s like my body is twisting on the inside, frightened at the possibility of this ending. I don’t even want to explore the reason for it.
He notices. I swear to god, he sees it and it’s the reason he’s so quiet and solemn. I have to look away, or else I’ll combust from the tension.
“Alina,” a voice calls out just then. I turn and see Benji at the door, staring darkly at Nikolai. “Your shift has started, lapochka. Hurry in.”
“We’re talking,” Nikolai cuts in, glaring at him now. “Don’t interrupt again.”
Benji frowns, glances at me for a short moment, and reluctantly disappears back inside. But I know he’s still watching, and I really don’t want an audience for this.
I take a step back. “I have to go, Nikolai.”
“A time,” he stresses, standing his ground. “Give me one, Alina.”
I hesitate. Going back to him feels too soon, but I can’t resist the rush that flows through me at the thought of being touched again.
“I get off work at five,” I say weakly, because I can’t help myself.
He lets out a slow breath, his chest sinking as he studies every curve of my face like he’s committing it to memory. The want in him perplexes me. I don’t understand it. I don’t know how deep it runs, but it leaves me paralysed in place, waiting for his next move.
His fingers twitch, but there’s no cigarette between them. He seems edgy, but he conceals it in his expression as he stiffly nods once. Then he heads back to his car and I watch him, every bone in my body aching at the distance growing between us.
Benji’s judging me when I enter the store. He’s got his brows all pinched together, his nostrils flaring, even his arms crossed. He says something to me in Russian and I stop to give him a questionable look. “Idiot,” he explains. “That’s what I called you.”
“Noted,” I reply, dryly.
When he realizes he hasn’t gotten to me, he fumes. “What are you doing, lapochka? Look at me! Look at the bruises on my face. You want the same to happen to you?”
“Nikolai would never hurt me like that.”
He repeats the word idiot. “You got a loan, huh? I told you to go to Franco.”
“Yeah, well, Franco busted up my lip,” I retort.
“What did you do?”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“What? I just want to know what you did.”
“I didn’t think doing anything would justify getting choked out by that dick. But you know what, Benji? Nikolai took care of him for me when he found out. Yeah, he went to him and beat him for it. So he can’t be that bad, can he?”
Benji goes quiet, thinking on my words. “But I thought he was gay,” he whispers, more to himself than me.
“He’s not,” I tell him.
“How would you know?”
I don’t answer, but as the seconds pass by, realization dawns on him.
“Fuck,” he curses, a sardonic chuckle leaving his throat. “You’re fucking him!”
This time I tear my eyes away and pretend I didn’t hear him.
“Aren’t you, Alina? Why?”
A customer comes in and I tend to him. All the while Benji is standing there, facing me, waiting.
“Why?” he repeats, when the customer leaves.
I still don’t answer and another customer comes in.
“Don’t ignore me. You don’t like it when it’s done to you!”
Fuck, this guy really does know me more than I like. My shoulders sag and I sigh, defeated. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You like him?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You like him then.”
“No, no, I do not like Nikolai.”
He makes a disgusted face. “Do you really believe in what you’re saying?”
“Yes, I do.”
“How do you convince yourself of it?”
“I don’t have to convince myself of anything. It’s the truth.”
“It’s a lie.”
I keep my lips shut and this time Benji stops pushing. He lets out a few overdramatic breaths and carries on, shaking his head every time I happen to look at him.
Now he’s just being ridiculous.
He can think what he wants, but I know what the truth is. Nikolai is a means out of here. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s not a lie I tell myself either. That is genuinely what I feel in my heart.
I count the minutes down not because I want to see his face. I count them down becaus
e I want to feel what his cock can do to me.
And the money.
Mostly the money.
Chapter Twenty.
When I leave work, I find Nikolai already out front, waiting for me like he did this morning. He sees me step out, and his clear expression breaks into a heady smile. It’s the most boyish smile I’ve seen from him yet, and it warms me.
“Alina,” he breathes life into my name, and for all my mother’s faults, naming me is the one thing she did right.
I smile back, and I even feel it in my chest. “Nikolai.”
I’m giddy. Excited even. I feel like I’m alive after a day of monotonous hell.
He opens the door for me like a gentleman, and as I go to slide in, he drops his head and runs his nose along the side of my face, smelling my hair so quickly I almost miss it. Flustered, I buckle up, feeling goose bumps run along my flesh as he rounds the car and slides in.
“Are you hungry?” he asks me, lowering the volume on the radio.
I lick my lips slowly, deliberating his question. “Best we go straight to your place.”
His hand hovers over the gear shift, a frown forming over his mouth. “My place then.”
I like watching him drive. He’s a concentrated man, comfortable and precise behind the wheel. It’s very sexy. Everything this man does is sexy. Even fighting.
“You have strong hands,” I blurt out.
His brow lifts. “Is that what you were thinking just now?”
“No, I was actually thinking you’re not an angry driver.”
He’s amused. “You expected me to be?”
I grin stupidly. “No. I was just thinking of all the times I was in a car with Grant. If someone cut him off, he would have screamed and waved a middle finger in the air.”
Nikolai’s brow furrows. “Who’s Grant?”
“My mother’s ex.”
“Out of the picture?”
I glance out the window and mutter quietly, “He pops up here and there.”
Nikolai makes a thoughtful hum. “They’re the ones you have to watch out for the most. Like your mother.”
“I think she’s gone for good.”
He gives me a wry look. “She’ll drain every pocket and come full circle again. She’ll return.”
