Page 76 of Volatile

Heels click against the tiled pathway wrapping around the house and Inessa’s voice holds authority as she addresses the guards. “Go to the gate and pick up your cigarette butts.”

They can’t see me in the dark and I hope she can’t either as they leave, but she remains standing at the side and I’m sure she has night vision because she takes easy steps until she’s sitting beside me. It’s like we’re children again and I’m hiding so Dariya can’t find me when my mother calls me home.

Just like my childhood, Inessa remains beside me and she doesn’t say anything even though she stares at me, plagued with questions. I break the silence, needing her to know the truth in respect of that little girl who doesn’t exist anymore.

“I wouldn’t touch your husband.”

She laughs. It starts slow and gets louder, making her shake as she playfully knocks her shoulder into mine. “I know you, Stasya, why the fuck would you think that you need to say it tome?”

She sighs and turns so she’s sitting across from me and lays back as though she’s not the Pakhan’s granddaughter or the wife of a Vor. Her heels are kicked off next and she presses her feet into the wall.

There must be some kind of psychological phenomena that reverts me back with the nostalgia and I do the same. She doesn’t waste a second to try to speak to the version of me that doesn’t exist anymore.

“I know it’s childish, but I never understood why you stopped playing with me.”

My voice is cold as we watch the clouds move through the darkened sky. “We grew up.”

Inessa has always been more mature than me, even when Mischa and I used to give her shit for spilling something because she was clumsy, she wouldn’t rise to it. It’s worse now and she doesn’t accept my bullshit for once. “No one really grows up, we just pretend we have. Do you remember when we tried to bury Mischa in the rose bushes?”

I laugh and it’s genuine, but the sound is still muted as I say, “Yeah, you made him move the worms because you didn’t want to touch them.”

Her voice softens and she speaks up to the sky. “Well, I’d move the worms for you, just let me know who we should bury.”

I don’t know what’s brought on the conversation until she turns her head to me and mistakes the reason for my mood.

“We’ll find them you know. I’ve already got a bigger team at Steorra ready for when we do.”

She thinks it’s due to me not finding the house Genevieve is using and a pit opens up in my stomach because I’ve allowed something else to take precedent over the task. I nod and mechanically sit up, my voice is robotic too as I stand. “Yeah, I’ll check on them. Thanks.”

Her eyes are fixed on my face as I walk away and go back inside. Viktor’s movie plays out as soon as I step through the doors, and I go to the hidden staircase that leads directly to Vitali’s floor. I don’t have my things to be able to search for anything useful and there are only two rooms on his floor that have a bed. The others are empty, so I choose the safer option after I change and go into Viktor’s room since he’s not sleeping here tonight.

I hate my fucking life as I crawl into a car bed that has working lights. It’s comfortable as fuck, clearly no expense spared, but I’m an adult and I have to tuck my knees up so my legs aren’t hanging off the edge. My mind ramps up the toxic swirl when it should shut up and let me sleep.

I count how many times I blink and make it to eighty-seven when footsteps move down the hall. They’re trying to be silent but they’re too clumsy, exactly like a puppy. I turn my head and look at the door as I strain my ears for any accompanying steps. There’s only one pair and I instantly relax. Vitali has come home alone, that’s a good sign. Unless he’s already done what he needed to. I stare at the wall as though I can see through it as the steps move past me and a door closes further away. There’s no sounds of his shower turning on but I’m too far to hear him, would he even wash someone else off? Or would he come to me at all? I wouldn’t if I was him, yet I stare at the door.

A lump travels up my chest and settles in my throat. Every one of my organs decides to shift inside me to create a cavity of nothingness and I slowly sink, pressing into the sheets. I turn over to face the opposite wall like it can stop me focusing on what’s behind me and pull the pillow over my head to block everything out. I’m acting like a fucking child, in a fucking car bed. It’s never felt like this before, a bone-deep ache, I can usually pick myself up and be fine but this fucking hurts.

My throat burns and it moves to my sinuses before the sensation is pricking my eyes. Dread decides to add to my emotions as I push the pillow over my head harder to escape reality. In a few hours I’ll have to stand and be weighed, again. There won’t be the silver lining of knowing Vitali will be waiting for me at the wedding, I’ll have to put up with my mother’s shit and she’ll happily point out everything wrong about me when my mind is already blaring my faults.

A scream rips from my throat as the pillow is pulled off me and my foot moves back to get away from whatever spirit died in this fucking house. My foot connects with bone, but it doesn’t make me relax, it’s the sound of Vitali cursing that has me sinking further.

“Fuck!”

My heart is hammering against my rib cage, and it plummets seeing him hold his bad knee. Because I just fucking kicked him in it.

His head snaps up as I move towards him like I can reverse time. His eyes are filled with physical and emotional pain with a voice to match as he snaps, “Finished beating the shit out of me today?”

My chin drops to my chest, as I say, “I thought?—”

“That’s your fucking problem, always thinking and never opening your fucking eyes.” He cuts me off and shuffles me into the wall to create space for himself. Angry muttering fills the silence and he positions me, so my back is against his chest.

I can smell the alcohol on him, but it’s the mix of soap and his damp hair making me want to throw up. His hand moves up so it’s loosely holding my neck, the position I’ve become accustomed to. I’m not afraid he’ll choke me, despite the fact there are fresh scrapes on his knuckles and he’s drunk. My body knows it’s safe with him on a cellular level, nothing else is and I try to move forward away from his dick that’s touched someone else.

His arm curls under my ribs until he’s cupping between my thighs. Each hand is holding something vital, life and pleasure. This could work, he’ll fuck whoever he wants, raise a family with them, I’ll get to have the middle of night when the world is asleep.

The only sound in the room is of our breathing, it’s silent to the point I can hear myself blink until he crushes me, whispering into the back of my head, “There’s this woman, she’s so fucking amazing, intelligent, and beautiful I can’t get her out of my head. The type of beauty you can feel and see with your eyes closed.”

He’s on the brink of sleep and I hate her.

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