Page 23

MIA

After a late lunch of leftover pancakes and bacon, I head out with Nikita to pick up Eli. It’s a little early, but I don’t feel like staying cooped up after everything that happened this morning, so Nikita offers to drive me over and take a walk with me around the school block.

“This way, you can dig a hole in the grass instead of Yulian’s hardwood floors,” she says. “Besides, Desya’s not gonna shoot you. Where would be the fun in that?”

An unsettling note to head out on, but honestly, I’m just glad for the fresh air.

Then, somehow, I end up venting about my sister.

“—and then she said she didn’t think I even had a kid!”

Nikita gasps. “She did not.”

“Well, not in so many words, but yeah. She absolutely did.”

“Bitch.”

On an ordinary day, I’d defend Ginny from any insult, but right now, Nikita’s word of choice is feeling pretty accurate.

Sadness twists my stomach. Growing up, Ginny and I were inseparable. We’d climb trees, prank the tourists in the summer, go skinny dipping at midnight. She was my little shadow, always trailing after me.

Now, she hates my guts.

Why wouldn’t she? asks the bitter voice of my conscience. You left her. You left them all, remember?

Of course I remember. There’s no way I could ever forget her broken-hearted expression when she found me packing in the middle of the night. She’s younger than me by three years, which means she was still finishing up high school then.

She begged me not to leave. Then, when she realized it’d be pointless, she pleaded with me to take her, too. Said she’d help with the baby, with my studies, with everything.

But I couldn’t let her do that. Couldn’t condemn my little sister to a life on the run just because of my stupid choices. She’d make smarter ones—she had to.

“Take care of Mom and Dad,” I told her that night. “I need you to stay with them, okay? For me. I promise, I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

That was five years ago.

Today’s Ginny was a different person entirely. Cynical, bitter, hurtful. That sweet little sister I left behind was nowhere. And all those pills Mom and Dad were taking…

They’re aging. The realization slams into me like a truck on a highway. They’ve grown old without you. Those five years you threw away? You’re never getting them back. Ever.

Tears gather at the corners of my eyes, but I quickly wipe them away. The last thing I need is for Nikita to see me as a burden, too.

Because by now, Yulian sure as hell thinks so, doesn’t he?

I’ve had messy days in my life, but never like this. The letter from the courthouse, and then my family showing up out of the blue—it was chaos. I feel like a stray Yulian brought home, only for it to infest the place with fleas.

Is it really any wonder if he dumps me back on the side of the road after this?

“You’re being quiet.”

Nikita’s voice snaps me out of it. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” She shrugs. “I could go for hours on end without speaking to a single soul. But then again, I’ve been on pill cocktails since I was eight, so I’m guessing what’s normal for me isn’t normal for you.”

“Pill cocktails?”

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” She shoots me a serious look. “That was a joke. Sorry, I’m not great with delivery.”

It drags a smile from my lips. “Lucky for you, anything you say to me is covered by patient confidentiality. So you don’t actually have to kill me.”

“It’s not a very good story.”

“Neither is the Greek tragedy I’m spinning in my head.”

She leans back against a tree and shoots me a thoughtful glance. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

I start picking at my sleeves. But Nikita’s gaze is unwavering, and in the end, I fold. “It’s just… What if Yulian decides I’m not worth it? That there’s too much drama hanging over my head?”

“Because of your family?”

“And the custody issues. And the shitty ex issues. And the baggage, the panic attacks?—”

“Panic attacks, huh?”

Shit. I hadn’t meant to share that much. Goes to show how thin I’m spread. “I’m a mess, okay?” I summarize. “A real mess. Yulian… he’s already got his plate full. He doesn’t need me piling on.”

Nikita touches her chin, considering my words. “Alright. I’ll tell you the pill story. But only because it relates directly to your Greek tragedy. Bear with me, okay? It’s a long, sad, boring ride.”

“Now, you’ve sold me.”

Nikita laughs. Then she takes a deep, centering breath, and begins.

“After Kira died, I started having night terrors. My parents put me on everything: antidepressants, antipsychotics, anti-being-awakes. Took me a while to detox from the stuff I didn’t need.

I guess, since I was always a weird kid to begin with, they thought it’d be a good opportunity to fix that, too.

Funnily enough, they never thought to splurge on Ritalin. ”

I remember having to crush Eli’s meds into his food so that Brad wouldn’t try to take him off of them. Or, worse, put him on something else. Something that would turn him numb and pliant, his perfect little plaything.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “That sounds awful.”

“Eh, it is what it is. Luckily, Yulian was there.”

“Yulian?”

“The second I turned eighteen, he brought me to doctors he trusted. Doctors my family hadn’t bought off.

Got a sparkling fresh ADHD-i diagnosis out of that.

Half the stuff I was taking got thrown out, the other half replaced with things I actually needed.

If Yulian hadn’t been there, I’d still be sleeping eighteen hours a day, nodding along to whatever my parents wanted from me.

Hell, I’d probably have been married off within months of my birthday. ”

Fuck. Now, I feel like a self-centered asshole. Suddenly, all my bad breaks feel like gifts from the universe. “Jesus.”

“Jesus is right.” She gives me a knowing smile.

“But now, you get it, right? Yulian doesn’t throw people away just because they’re hot messes.

He helps. That’s who he is. Even though he likes to pretend he’s the big, bad wolf, he’s not.

He’s the hunter who cuts you out of the wolf’s stomach and gives you a second shot at life. ”

Nikita’s words sink into me, bringing back memories of last year. When I first met Yulian, I thought he was a selfish jerk, only out for himself. But he’s always been helping the people around him, hasn’t he? He’d just rather advertise the bad, keep his good deeds hidden where no one can see them.

It soothes the anxiety in my heart, just a little. Just enough to believe we’ll still have a roof come nightfall.

“Oh, shit. You’re crying.”

“No.” I wipe harder at my eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You know, I’m not a genius at reading social cues, but I’m pretty sure water coming out your eyes qualifies as crying.”

A watery laugh bubbles out my lips.

Nikita frowns. “Okay, now, you’ve lost me.”

“I promise I’m okay.” I squeeze her hand, remembering Yulian’s words from this morning. Don’t say sorry—say thank you. “I’m really glad you’re better now.”

“You’re the weirdest nurse I’ve ever met, you know that? Treating assassins, crying at their sob stories.”

“Then you’ll love my boss, Gwen. She hasn’t shed a tear since 1954.”

Nikita looks slightly appalled at the prospect.

I compose myself and take a deep breath. “Where were we again?”

“I think we pipelined into this whole thing from the topic of difficult sisters.”

“Right. That.”

“Take it from me,” says Nikita. “Ginny’s making a play for alpha now. Don’t let her win it. There can only be one alpha sister.”

It sounds like she’s speaking from experience. For the first time, I realize I don’t actually know anything about Kira. Just that she was important to a lot of people and died an unfair death. “Were you the alpha in your family?”

“Fuck, no.” Nikita laughs. “If there’s one thing Kira was born for, it was to rule.

No wonder Desya thought she was going to piss all over his territory.

” She takes a deep sigh. “I wish he’d taken the time to know her better.

Then, he’d have realized she was just as trapped under her crown as the rest of us. ”

I open my mouth to ask what she means, but then?—

“Mommy!”

A grin streaks across my lips despite the heaviness of our conversation. Ever since this morning, all I’ve wanted to do was bury my nose into Eli’s head of curls and inhale that sweet Cheez-It scent. “Hey there, little guy. Miss me?”

He careens into my knees and hugs me tight. “We made macaroni necklaces today!” He pulls out a colorful piece of handmade pasta jewelry, painted in shades of blue and indigo. “Do you like it?”

I pick it up and pretend to inspect it under the sun. “Oh, my. Are these real sapphires?”

“No!” Eli giggles. “It’s paint.”

“Paint!” I gasp. “That makes it even more precious. Can I wear it?”

“Yes. That one’s yours.” He pulls out another one, this time in shades of green. “This is for Nikita.”

Nikita’s eyes go wide. “For me?”

“Yes. They said to make one for our mommies and sisters, but I don’t have any sisters. Do you like it?” He holds it up, all hopeful-like. “It’s green, like your eyes. And Mommy’s is blue, like hers.”

Nikita picks it up gingerly. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s the one with a bad case of watery eyes syndrome all of the sudden. “I love it,” she whispers, then puts it around her neck.

I do the same and flash a pose next to Nikita. “How do we look?”

“Kickbutt,” Eli declares. “When do we see Aunt Kallie? I have a red one for her.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it. What do you say we go give it to her right n?—”

My breath stops.

Nikita sees him a split second after I do. Her hand flies to her belt, where I suspect she keeps her gun.

Eli looks at me, puzzled. “Mommy?”

Then he sees him, too.

“Hey, champ. Ready to go back home with me?”

Brad.