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He tells me about Semyon and how funny it is to see his cold, ice-hearted brother actually fall in love.

I bitch to him about my parents, about how I changed the locks and haven’t told them yet.

I want them to just show up and try the lock.

Feels like poetic justice.

"Tell me about her," he says quietly. "I know why you got her. How do you feel now? She still got you under her spell?"

I shake my head. "She is my little witch," I say affectionately, looking out the window.

But I'm not really joking.

I mean it.

Shehascast her spell on me.

He smiles at me and nods. "Brother, I understand."

And I know he does.

I saw the way he talked about his wife last night.

This is the man who tracked down the bastard who hurt his wife, beat the shit out of him, duct-taped him to a tree, and made him watch while he fucked his wife before he killed him.

Yeah. He knows.

He shakes his head and smiles, but it’s a little self-deprecating. "Like, you're just walking around, you know? Living life. Same shit. And then she just—" His voice drops. "She just comes into your life and turns everything on its head. And nothing’s the same. Nothing ever goes back to the way it was. And you can’t imagine… you can’t imagine going back to the way things were before her. You can’t imagine life before her. Or after her."

He glances at me.

"That's exactly what it is."

"Good. I got you all sentimental and fired up, just like I wanted. Takes a lot of energy to kick the shit out of somebody. But if you do it for a reason? Totally different. This woman deserves your protection, doesn’t she, brother?"

I swallow hard again.

"She fucking does."

"Tell me what she’s like."

I know he doesn’t really care.

But he cares about me.

So I tell him everything.

“She’s the smartest person I’ve ever met. Not in some show-off way. She’s just like… always ten steps ahead.” I lean back against the seat and pause. “She’s obviously gorgeous, but even like… when she’s sleeping. When she wakes up. When she’s sitting in my T-shirt drinking coffee and giving me shit for taking it black.”

He chuckles. “I get you. So you’re saying… youlikeher.”

I ignore him. My voice goes harder. “She looks at me like she’s trying to decide if she wants to kiss me or kill me. And the fucked-up thing? Sometimes I think I’d be fine with either.”

Rodion whistles. “So you met someone who actuallygetsyou. Psycho you. And doesn’t judge.”

I don’t answer right away, just stare as Rodion drives like a bat out of hell, and we eat up the pavement, trees whipping past our windows.

“Nah, man. It’s worse.”