Page 27 of Corrupt: XXX Vadim 2
I hang her last shirt and switch off the light. “I think the food should be ready. Let’s go check.”
She follows as I descend the stairs and enter the kitchen to find Vadim at the counter, dividing the contents of the platters between three plates. While I stow Magda’s pink insulin case into the fridge, he looks up, his expression almost panicked. Help me, I imagine him begging were he desperate enough to do so out loud.Don’t leave me.
I smile to reassure him.
“I hope you like nuggets,” I tell Magda as I take a seat at the table.
She claims the one across from me but frowns as Vadim places a plate down in front of her. Warily, she nudges a nugget with the tip of her finger before taking a hesitant bite. Ena’s cooking must win her over because all reluctance drains from her face, and she doesn’t need any more prompting.
I watch her, so distracted by the sight of her that I barely notice as Vadim sits beside me. Pretty soon, we’rebothstaring at her, his beautiful little girl, unaware of the nearness of her biological father. Or how much he loves her already. His fingers twitch as she reaches for a glass of water as if he has to stop himself from grabbing it for her. When she finishes her food, he’s already racing across the kitchen in search of a napkin.
“Am I still going to my school?” Magda asks, pushing her plate aside.
“Yes.” Vadim offers her a napkin that she doesn’t take. Awkwardly he sets it beside her and circles the table to reclaim his seat. “After the break. Don’t worry about any disruptions.”
“Okay,” she says, eyeing her tiny fingers. “And I can have new clothes?”
“Anything,” Vadim rasps.
Magda fixates her steely gaze on me. “Andyou’lltake me?”
“If you want,” I say cautiously. “We could go tomorrow?”
She shrugs and sips from her water. “Okay.”
I don’t think I’m the only one who misses the fact that Vadim is pointedly left out of her invitation.
“Can I go up to my room now?”
“Y-Yes—” Vadim barely gets the word out before she’s skipping merrily across the kitchen. Her tiny steps echo as she marches up the stairs, and once again, her door slams with force.
Vadim sighs, his jaw clenched, his gaze on the table. One of his hands forms a fist over the glass surface, the knuckles whitening.
I gingerly cradle his fingers with my own and lean down, kissing the rigid peaks. Then I feather another kiss over his wrist, up to his collar. Higher, until I finally reach his lips.
“You did good,” I insist as his mouth remains stubbornly closed. “You did so good—”
“Have I?” He withdraws from me and stands, tearing at his hair with both hands. “I need to work,” he says. “I’ll be in the study.”
I watch him go, more conflicted than ever. Can I withstand two switchblade humans battling their emotions? My heart throbs in a way that gives me serious doubt.
