Page 127 of Deadly Knight
“Thought that was Zeno?”
“I’ve known you longer.”
She grins because we both know she’s bullshitting by claiming Zeno isn’t her one and only.
Now, to seemyone and only.
“You wantme to come inside with you? Act as backup or anything?” Anastasia stares out the SUV’s window at my parents’ house.
“It’s fine.” I jerk the handle, pushing open the passenger door. “I should be no more than an hour, but even that’s aiming high. Twenty minutes.”
She slides the driver’s seat back, kicks her feet onto the dash, and grabs her phone from the console. “Take your time. I have more pointe shoes to order. Might test out a new brand…”
Chuckling, I shut the door and stride up the pathway to the house, knocking a few times. I hadn’t warned them of my visit, considering hours prior, dropping by wasn’t in the plans.
The door swings open after a moment, Papa standing in the doorway. “Katya!Milyy, you didn’t tell us you were coming.”
“It was unplanned.”
His gaze shifts from me to the large black vehicle parked by the curb, Anastasia not-so-hidden inside.
“A friend,” I supply. “She’s waiting.”
“Oh…okay.” Papa’s tone doesn’t hide the fact that me bringing people around is strange and unlike me. “Does she want to come in?”
“I offered, she said no. Mama home? I need to see you both.”
He blinks, jerking his attention back to me. “Uh, yeah. Come on in.” He steps back, shutting the door once I’m inside and heads for the cozy living room, decorated much like our old house in Moscow.
“Who’s at the door?” Mama’s voice calls from down the hallway.
“Our daughter,” he hollers back, earning a surprised noise from Mama right before she appears in the doorway.
“You didn’t mention you were coming by.”
I sigh. It’s like déjà vu with these two. “Unplanned. Can we talk?”
They share a look before leading me into the living room, both dropping onto the couch across from the single chair I settle in. For a moment, I’m no longer in my twenties, but back to being the teenager who was admitting why she came home past curfew, or that I had a boyfriend who I was certain they’d faint at seeing me with. They stare expectantly, unnerving me breath by breath until my fingers link into the cushion and my words tumble out in a mess.
“I’m moving back home. To Moscow, I mean.”
They share a look. Mama coughs. Neither speak.
I admit everything. Just like that day in the hospital when I didn’t hide the cold, hard facts, I tell them about Dimitri’s return, being brought to Moscow and why, the fact Dimitri bought our old house, and his recent capture. Lastly, everything I’ve realized about it and him and why staying here isn’t an option anymore. That I’m done hiding.
When I finish, Papa curses, shaking his head. “He’s the buyer… Why did I not put that together? It makes so much sense.”
“Are you mad?”
“Mad?” He blinks. “That boy loved you so much. It makes me happy to know he never stopped.”
“Wait.” My eyes flick between them. “You’re okay with this?”
Mama shifts towards the edge of the couch. “Katya, you haven’t been happy since the day we moved here. You were always looking over your shoulder, always needing one more thing in your life. You never left Moscow, not entirely.”
“It was home.” Even my argument feels weak. “For you as well.” For them more than me, considering they were born there and spent many more years there than I had.
“Da,”Mama agrees slowly, “but we’ve adapted. You’ve been…floating, for lack of a better word. The first few years were nice—all things considered, given how recent the attack was. You attended school, seemed like you were adjusting, but then it changed afterwards. Like deep down, you knew this wasn’t where you were meant to be.”
