Page 22 of Demitri

“Two of them.”

“How many of the eight are boys?” His voice is gruff from holding in his emotion.

“Two.”

“I have two brothers out there somewhere? How were they able to hide?”

“I hate to point out the obvious, but there’s not a big Russian population in this area, Demitri. The smart ones? The moms who were able to keep their babies safe gave their children American names. Jackson and Travis. They are safe. Their moms are married to men who adopted their children with the help of a friend. We’ve known where they were their whole lives.”

“How old are they?”

“Jackson is twenty-three and Travis is nineteen.”

“And you’ve known this? For how long?”

“Honey, I’ve been keeping track of your family for forty years. Since your grandfather was in charge.”

Demitri stares at her, his mouth open, in pure shock. I need to rescue him.

“Demitri,” I quietly speak his name. No response. But when I reach my hand out and lay it on his arm, his face snaps to theside, his eyes silently begging me to save him. “Why don’t we continue this another time? You’ve just had a lot of information dumped on you, and I’m sure Aunt Linda will answer your questions once you’ve been able to process it?”

While I’m looking at Demitri, my question is more for her. Numbly, Demitri nods, glancing at my hand where I’m touching his arm. And believe me, I get it. I’ve never initiated any kind of physical touch outside of sex with him before. This is new territory and all that.

“I’ll come to your house tomorrow, Mia,” Aunt Linda announces, standing and packing up some of the mostly untouched lasagna. “This is his favorite. Please take it with you.”

I nod, accepting the offering. “Do you know where I live?”

“Of course. I might bring Daniel with me, if that’s alright with you?”

“Daniel can help? I thought he was more of a search and rescue operation.”

“Have to be honest, he’s probably going to bring someone with him. Someone who isn’t as worried about the law as others might be. But it will be someone safe. Someone trusted, okay?”

“Yeah, okay I guess.”

I nod my thanks and stand up, holding the food in one hand. Demitri still hasn’t moved. I reach out and grasp his hand in my free one, the need to make sure he’s alright overriding my usual aversion.

“Are you okay?” he looks at me, almost like he’s coming out of a trance.

“I’m good. You?”

“I think I’ve been better.”

“Give me your keys. I’m driving.”

“I’m fine.”

“Fuck that. Give me your keys.”

“No. I can drive.”

“I said no. I won’t get in the fucking truck unless I’m the one driving. You going to leave me here all alone?”

He scowls at me but hands over the keys. I notice Aunt Linda smirking at me and tilting her head in approval. I lead Demitri out and make sure he heads to the passenger seat before I haul myself up behind the wheel.

“Have you ever driven a truck before? A classic truck?”

“You heard where I’m from. You don’t get out of Montana without driving a truck, Demitri.”

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