Page 157 of Hush

“Hello, Tom.” Pasha’s voice was smooth, devoid of any accent. He smiled, looking Tom up and down. “It’s been a long time.”

The world spun, and Tom almost staggered, thrown sideways by all the many ways they’d been wrong. “Pasha… You and Barnes—” He shook his head. “You’re helping the CIA?”

Pasha laughed. “Oh, Tom. I thought, out of everyone, you might have put it all together.”

“You’re helping the CIA cover up the attempted assassination of President Vasiliev. You must be. You’ve always hated Russia. Is this how you’re striking back?”

Pasha laughed again. He stepped closer, holding his hand out. “You know, after we broke up, I went to New York, like we’d planned. I thought maybe you’d still go, and I’d find you and convince you that we could get back together.”

Tom swallowed.

“But I didn’t find you there. Instead, someone found me.”

“Who?”

“Dimitry Vasiliev, head of the New York KGB office.”

All the air fled from Tom’s lungs, ripped out of his body, his soul. “YouhatedRussia… Theytorturedyou... You wanted to be free…”

Sadness stole over Pasha’s face, an echo of history, memories of the past. “There is no such thing as freedom. You found that out. You left me because you chose to be a slave to your fears. To society’s fears. I was young and dumb and thought that I could find a better way.” He shook his head. “You just learned sooner than I did: there isnofreedom for men like us.”

Panic leached beneath his skin, crept over his bones. He started to breathe fast, quick pants that left him lightheaded.

“The best we can do is find others who will protect us. Who will look the other way in exchange for our utility. We can live in the shadows, in the negative spaces. If we’re not seen, and not heard, we’re not cared about.”

“Is that how Vasiliev treated you?”

“That, and much more.” Pasha smiled. He stepped forward again, close enough to touch. He reached for Tom’s hand. His skin was cold, like ice, and Tom shivered. Pasha laced their fingers together. “Do you still think I work for the CIA?”

All he could hear was the sound of his own breath, his own hyperventilating. He blinked, slowly. His brain wouldn’t work. He said nothing.

“You have all been so consumed with the thought of what wentwrongthat you never looked at what wentrightin everything. Who has benefited the most from this attack?”

Jesus. It was all there, suddenly. Blindingly obvious, staring him in the face. The one man, the one nation, that had benefited from this attack:President Dimitry Vasiliev.

“Vasiliev planned this whole thing? Withyou?”

“I would do anything for Vasiliev. He saved my life, and brought me back to Mother Russia.” Pasha grabbed him, held his face in both hands. His eyes burned, cobalt lit on fire, and he yanked Tom to him, aligning their bodies. Twenty-five years vanished and Tom was suddenly back in college, pressed close to Pasha, about to kiss him. He gritted his teeth.No. NO!

“Come with me,” Pasha growled. “Tom,come with me. We can go to Moscow. Tonight. We can start again. Pick up where we left off. You do not have to be a slave anymore. We can be together. Live in the shadows. Have our freedom, what little we can have. At least we can be together again.” He smiled, and his eyes traced Tom’s features. “It can be like the past. You can love me again. As for me… I have never stopped loving you.”

Mike. Where was Mike? What had they done to him? He tried to pull away, but Pasha wouldn’t let go. His hands tightened, gripping his skull. The pretense of tenderness had fled. “You’re hurting me.”

“Come with me,” Pasha growled again. “Barnes wants to kill you. I’m the only one who can save your life.”

He struggled, thrashing, but Pasha held on like a vise. “What did you do to Mike? Where is he?” He shouted, roaring at the top of his lungs. No, God, no, please. Mike couldn’t be—

“He’s gone.”

Tom’s knees buckled, and he collapsed against Pasha, sliding to the floor, screaming. “No!” Tears blurred his eyes, searing hot.

Behind the closed bedroom door, Etta Mae started whimpering and scratching at the frame, frantically trying to get free and get to Tom.

“Shhh, shhh.” Pasha followed Tom down to the floor, still holding his face. He hovered over Tom, gazing at him like he was seeing a shooting star for the very first time. “I couldn’t believe it when they said you’d been given this trial. I had thought I’d lost you forever. But this is our second chance.”

“You’reinsane.You think I wantanythingto do with you?”

“We loved each other—”