Page 28 of Paved in Hate

Before I’ve even turned my head back around, I have just enough time to see Lev carrying a smiling Jolene back upstairs. I look at Matvey.

“Is it always like this?”

“Pretty much.”

While he grabs a drink from the fridge, I run my eyes over him, starting at the black boots and ending with the black hoodie. I can see tattoos covering his neck, disappearing under his shirt, and when I look at his hands, I see a familiar set of scars covering them. They’re worse than the ones on Vitaly, but they’re definitely burn scars. I want to ask if he was in the same fire, but there’s something about Matvey that doesn’t invite questions. He’s more guarded than the others, so it surprises me when he says, “Can I see what you’re going to do in the nursery?”

“Sure.”

He follows me back down the hall, and even though he sees how carefully I’m walking, he doesn’t offer me his hand. Stepping into the nursery, I grab the sketch I’d made and hand it to him.

“It’s rough, but it gives you an idea of what I’m thinking about doing.”

“You’re very talented.” He hands me back the drawing and walks over to the window.

“How did Vitaly end up getting stuck with me?” I ask, bending down to grab my bag so I can get a pencil. “I asked him if he drew the short stick, but he said he volunteered. I find that hard to believe.”

He’s quiet so long I’m convinced he’s not going to answer, but he finally says, “It was never a choice. It had to be him.”

I meet his dark eyes. “Why?”

Instead of answering, he glances down at the pencil in my hand. “You going to start planning it out on the walls?”

I look at Matvey and then I think about the whiskey-colored eyes that keep haunting my thoughts. Matvey’s gorgeous, I’d have to be blind not to see that, but my body doesn’t respond to him like it does Vitaly, and Matvey’s not looking at me like he’s even remotely interested in me sexually.

When it’s obvious we aren’t about to have a big heart-to-heart and share all our deepest secrets, I step closer to the wall and raise my pencil. Putting all my focus on the drawing I want to bring to life, I start sketching a large tree. It takes a while, and I’ve completely forgotten about Matvey until I hear him sit down on the window seat behind me. Ignoring him, I roughly outline several birds sitting on one of the tree branches.

Like usual when I start drawing, I completely lose track of time, and when Roman and Emily walk in, I’m almost finished with the wall.

“Wow,” Roman says, running his eyes over what I’ve done.

“It’ll look better once it’s painted,” I say, hoping they can look beyond the rough lines.

“Are you kidding? It already looks amazing,” Emily says.

Roman sets down all the supplies they bought and then starts unfolding a sheet to protect the carpet. Matvey helps him and then carries in a chair and a stepladder.

“If you don’t rest those feet, Vitaly’s going to kick all our asses,” he tells me, setting the chair down in front of me.

“Sure he will,” I say, but I sit and start going through the supplies. They’ve gotten everything on my list, plus extras. “This is perfect. Thanks for getting it all.”

“Let us know if you need anything else,” Roman tells me. “And don’t work yourself too hard.” He rests a hand on Emily’s belly. “We still have a couple of months before he gets here.”

“I won’t,” I tell him, but the truth is I’m dying for a distraction to lose myself in, and this is exactly what I need.

I start mixing paints, and when it becomes obvious that I’ve completely zoned out, the others start to trickle out of the room, leaving me to create something beautiful for a little baby boy I may never meet. Oksana is about to lose her usefulness to Konstantin, and there’s no telling what Vitaly’s plans are for me once everything is in place with my brothers. I hope whoever this little boy grows up to be that he’ll at least get some happiness out of looking at the paintings I’ve left for him.

Several hours later, Emily tries to get me to come out and eat supper, but I refuse, so she eventually gives up and brings me a plate of food. I take a few bites, but I’m in a good groove, and I don’t want to lose it, so I keep painting, not stopping until I look up to see Vitaly’s pissed-off face in the doorway.

Chapter6

Vitaly

Istare at Katya, eyeing the sore feet that she’s defiantly standing on despite my order to stay in the goddamn bed, and to top it all off, there’s a plate of food sitting on the floor that’s barely been touched.

She looks over at me, eyes wide with fear and different shades of colored paint dotting her face where she’s unknowingly marked herself while deep in thought. She looks fucking adorable, and that just irritates me all the more.

“They said I could do it,” she quickly says, glancing at the tree she’s been painting for the last several hours. It looks fucking amazing, and I’m once again stunned by her talent. The tree covers the wall, branches reaching up and out, and she’s dotted one of them with several colorful birds.

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