Page 28 of One Last Shot

“Okay,” I say, kissing the top of Stella’s curls. “Time for bed.”

“Is it okay if I want Petra to tuck me in?” she asks me.

“Of course it’s okay,” I say, glancing over my shoulder, “if Petra doesn’t mind.”

Petra swallows. “Of course I don’t mind.” Is it my imagination or is her voice even thicker than normal?

I head back to the living room to give them some privacy. I’m on the far side of the room looking out the window and across the terrace, wondering what will happen if Petra doesn’t agree to help me get citizenship and wondering how long I should wait before I press her for a decision, when I hear the clicking of her wedges on the wooden floor. She moves across the rug silently, but I feel her approaching the same way you feel a storm coming on: the temperature drops a few degrees and the air feels calm and thick, but you can hear the thunder in the distance and feel the electricity in the air. I brace for impact, because if Petra is upset—really and truly upset—that’s not good.

She stops with her shoulder next to mine, her arms crossed over her chest. She doesn’t look at me, just gazes out the window as she says, “How could you put her in a position like that, Aleksandr?”

What is she accusing me of, exactly? “I don’t have any control over how Tony acts.”

She spins toward me and pushes her finger into my chest so fast I almost stumble backward. Almost.

“Bullshit,” she spits the word at me like it’s a bullet. “How can you love her like you clearly do and then stand by and watch her languish in a dangerous situation? Why didn’t you stop him when you saw how uncomfortable he was making Stella?”

“She wasn’t in any danger,” I remind Petra. “I was right there.” I want to give her my real reason, but she doesn’t give me a chance.

“What you just witnessed was your niece beingconditionedto accept unwanted attention from men. She very clearly said she didn’t want to kiss him, but he didn’t let up and the other adults who should have protected her made it seem likeshewas being the unreasonable one.” Her voice is frantic and high-pitched and I don’t know what to make of it. “How many times do you think that needs to happen before she finally stops pushing back? And once she does, what else will he—or someone else—try?”

I take in her wild eyes, the absolutely livid expression on her face, the fact that her finger has pounded into my sternum so many times it’s going to leave a mark. This is about Stella, sure. But it also feels personal. “What happened to you?” I ask, keeping my voice as calm as I’d keep it when I talk Stella out of a temper tantrum.

“None of your fucking business. You need to focus on Stella. Protect her, Sasha. Teach her to be strong and to demand that other people respect her boundaries. Don’t set her up to get taken advantage of over and over again.” Her voice breaks and she turns away, then starts walking across the room toward the entryway.

“Wait!”What the hell is she talking about? “Where are you going?”

“I have plans tonight. I told Stella I’d stop by tomorrow afternoon to say goodbye.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I told you I wasn’t staying in New York. I told you I have a life. I told you it wasn’t fair of you to ask me to stay,” she says, but I’m not sure what that means. Is she not willing to help me get citizenship? Or she will, but not by living in New York? “I hope you do right by Stella, Aleksandr. She’s perfect—feisty and innocent and beautiful. Let her stay that way.”

“I’m not sure I know how to do that,” I tell her. I hate the raw consistency of my words, the way they fall away, peeling back pieces of my armor and revealing just how helpless I feel.

She turns back toward me but keeps walking backward toward the elevator. “You do. You’ll figure out what she needs.”

“You’ve known her for three days and you understand her better than I do.”

“That’s because once upon a time,I was her. But I’m not her parent, you are.”

“Your instincts are great,” I tell her. “You’re going to make an unbelievable mom someday.” I shouldn’t feel a pang of loss at the statement. But suddenly my head is filled with images of her and Stella, together. And knowing those are dreams and not reality hurts more than it should.

This is what my father warned me about, the infatuation that only ends in self-destruction.Let her walk away so you can save yourself.

“I won’t be an unbelievable mother,” she says. “I decided a long time ago that I’m not having kids.”

“I don’t see how someone who’s such a natural with kids could not end up with kids of their own.” My thoughts spill out before I can think about holding them in.

“Luckily, I make my own decisions about my body,” she says, and spins on her heel to push the elevator button.

I stand there like an ass, unable to form any words at all, let alone the ones that will keep her here. Because I remember a time when I used her body as an excuse to push her away. And I wish that were theonlybetrayal that happened the night we said goodbye for the last time.

CHAPTER9

ALEKSANDR

Fourteen Years Ago

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