Page 11 of Night So Silent
“It would seem that you and I have similar callings.”
“How so?” I ask, trying to ignore whatever’s happening to my nervous system.
“I told you,” Sergei lets his head fall back onto the sofa, “I was Lutz’s first therapist.”
“Youwere?” I scoff. “How do you figure that?”
“I can go for months without speaking to anyone, but turns out that he likes to talk.A lot.So, I got pretty good at listening to him in the backcountry. You know, giving him advice.”
Oh my god…he’s kind of right.
I know what Colson is like, and being alone with him in the middle of nowhere for months on end requires a level of mental fortitude that isn’t found just anywhere.
“What advice did you give him?”
“It should be obvious,” Sergei says with nonchalance. “He ended up taking it.”
A chill runs up the back of my neck when I realize what he’s referring to—how Bowen ended up a corpse in the barn on top of the mountain.
“Colson also had PTSD and a major grudge,” I point out.
“Maybe. But you don’t have to worry about PTSD if youarethe traumatic event,” Sergei adds with a flash of his icy blue eyes.
I purse my lips with amusement and roll my eyes. He’s probably just trying to one-up my severed dick story. I think…
Right then, Ev starts to wake, her little baby nails scratching my chest as she clenches her fists. Now’s my chance to find out if I’m right about supplementing with formula at night. I’ve also had a long day, so it wouldn’t be the worst ifeveryonegot some sleep tonight.
Pressing her against my shoulder, I rise and head for the kitchen before she can get too worked up and Brett is woken by actual baby cries. I retrieve one of the prepared bottles from the refrigerator and drop it in the warmer before flipping the switch. It should only take a minute or so. In the meantime, I start bouncing Ev to keep her calm.
When I turn around, I startle at the sight of Sergei’s massive figure just feet away. I didn’t even hear him get up, but now he’s leaning against the edge of the dining table, arms crossed, just watching me. I recover quickly, but suddenly feel self-conscious because up until the last few minutes, he barely acknowledged I was in the same room with him. My eyes wander around the kitchen, acutely aware that he’s still staring at me in silence.
What the hell is he looking at?
Finally, Ev’s bottle is ready. I’m pleasantly surprised that she’s not screaming right now after waking up and seeing me instead of her mom. It’s touch-and-go at first, but after a coupleof tries, she accepts the bottle and starts chugging. I let out a breath of relief and look up to see Sergei eyeing me as I adjust Ev into the crook of my elbow.
His eyes move from mine, down to Ev, and then back again, the corner of his mouth curling slightly. And that look is enough to light a spark in my chest—the same one that made me want to let loose on Caleb and tell him where he can stick his opinions on my reproductive life.
“You’re good at that,” Sergei comments, confirming my suspicions.
Seriously, why can’t people just leave women the hell alone? So what if I’d rather be cool Auntie Barrett who wants to spoil my friends’ children and give them back at the end of the day? God forbid something happens to Brett or Colson, but if it came down to it, I’d take Ev and any other child they have. I just don’t feel the need to be a mother myself.
I set my jaw, deciding I’m not going to abide by this thinly veiled misogyny any longer.
“Let me guess, holding a baby looks good on me?” I ask with venomous sarcasm. “I have a way with children? My child bearing hips are an asset? I’ve heard it all before and I’ll save you the trouble—I never want children, I’m on birth control, and I’m going to get my tubes tied as soon as I can convince some doctor that I won’t change my mind or disappoint some hypothetical man who’s claimed ownership over my uterus before I’ve even met him.”
The silence hanging between us is thick and contemptuous. At least from me. I can no longer tell what’s going on behind the blank look Sergei is giving me now. But a few moments later, he pushes off the edge of the table and lumbers across the kitchen. I tense as he comes into my space and leans down, one of his braids brushing over my collar bone. His lips graze my hair as he hovers next to my ear.
“Good,” he rumbles. “Because I was assessing the size of your tits and how good my cock will look fucking them until you make me come in your mouth. But now that I know I can come inside your pussy without interruption, I think I like that better.”
My face freezes, my eyes glued to the table across the room as my mind races. When I finally glance up, Sergei is halfway across the living room and my voice is completely gone. He sweeps his coat off the hook and opens the front door.
“See you later,” he rumbles over his shoulder, “Printsessa.”
Then he walks out of the house into the wintry night.
CHAPTER THREE
Five Days Until Christmas
