Minutes ticked by, the silence punctuated only by the clanging of a dish every now and again as I finished up. Eventually, I had to face them, so I turned around. They sat casually at my table as if they belonged, which had my anger surging once more.
“I know Pavel Lenkov hired you,” I began, my voice steady, defiance fueling me. “I also know that I’m not the girl he used to know. You’re wasting your time and energy if you are still trying to investigate the claim,” I asserted, lifting my head and challenging them both to say otherwise.
If they had anything on me at all, they could either present it or move along. Either way, they weren’t getting anything from me. They may have every good intention in the book, but I had built walls around my heart for a reason, and those walls would not crumble easily.
“I wish it were that easy,” Nik murmured, his voice resigned and still holding a note of determination. He held out a computer-generated image. I reluctantly took it from his outstretched hand, my eyes transfixed on his and not the paper. I didn’t want to look at it.
“You see,” he continued, stepping closer. The smell of him and having his body this close to mine had me thinking about game night. But the flames of desire were quickly doused the minute the next words left his mouth.
“I gave my buddy the picture of Pavel Lenkov andMischa Natalyaand asked him to age progress them. That’s what he came up with. Want to explain that?” Nik’s eyes never left mine; they pinned me down, demanding answers.
That stupid name. I needed to play this cool. He’d already let slip what the image was by using the name in conjunction with Pasha’s. I prepared myself for the inevitable because with him studying me so intently, there was no way I couldn’t look. If I refused, it would be the answer he needed.
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, so steeling myself, I looked at the rendition of me and Pasha, feigning interest. A knife piercing my heart would have been kinder. In my hands was a stark reminder of the past. It was us, but it wasn’t. He’d used a photo of us at a competition when I was maybe seven, making Pasha twelve.
Except now, I was staring at adult versions of us, my hand clasping his. I could almost feel it, and willing myself not to crumble, I focused on the imperfections. Many details were off, such as my height. If only I was as tall as the ballerina in the photo. Pasha had much more defined muscles in real life, but it was the faces that held me transfixed.
Every part of me wanted to retreat, to push them out the door despite the storm and guard the fragile fragments of my shattered life. Nik moved back to the table and gave me some space.
“You’re cute. I could have had this done with Photoshop.” I held up the photo, facing it away from me. “The faces are the only thing even somewhat similar, and they still aren’t right. Nice try, though. A for effort.” I notched my head at Nik, then turned. “Ivan, if you follow me, I’ll show you the room you can use,” I declared.
Nikolai chuckled, and in an instant, he closed the distance between us, commanding my attention. He grabbed my chin in his firm grip, sending a jolt of electricity through me. My breath caught, and I whimpered as he leaned closer.
Gently turning my face, he leaned over, his warm breath brushing my ear before he said, “So that’s how it’s going to be, baby girl?” His words were whispered like a delicate caress. I put my hand on his chest, feeling his heart race under my fingers.
“Crow,” Ivan’s voice bellowed out. Memories of an unhinged Nik came back to me, and I lowered my gaze, giving up the fight.
Nik’s full lips hovered near my ear, causing me to shiver. “While you’re showing Ivan his room, maybe he can tell you exactly how tenacious I am when I’ve sunk my teeth into a case.”
My eyes flicked to his mouth, and he had to pry the paper from my hands.
“I’ll take the couch,” he announced, his tone challenging me to say something as he sauntered out of my kitchen.
I lowered my eyes and tried to still my racing heart. The lingering closeness of his body and the words he’d used stirred a rush of emotions in me to the point where I’d almost forgotten what I was supposed to be doing.
“Thanks for dinner, little love. I’d love to see that room now.” Ivan’s deep but gentle voice snapped me out of the haze.
After three unsuccessful attempts at trying to get Nikolai to take my bed, I gave up. His off-the-wall comment about Bro Code and being the first one to sleep in my bed was the final straw. If he wanted to have a crick in his neck tomorrow, oh well.
I found it impossible to settle into the comfort of my own bed. The storm raging outside my window echoed my feelings. Despite the exhaustion their presence had on me, sleep remained elusive.
A small part of me had to admit I was grateful they cared enough to come and check on me, but still, it was intrusive too. My mind kept drifting to Nik on the couch.
I got up one final time and found him quietly sleeping. The sound of his even breathing only stirred my emotions once more. I shivered and went back to my room, pausing at the door that used to be Owen’s. Touching the wood, I felt the ache in my heart once more. I hurried to the sanctuary of my bed, where I buried myself under the covers.
Only when I felt it was safe did I let the tears fall. I thought for sure once they stopped, sleep would come for me, but it didn’t. Not even the warmth of my blankets could chase away the coldness that had seeped into my bones. I tossed and turned all night, the events from game night playing out in a continuous loop behind my eyelids.
At one point, I thought I heard the creak of a floorboard but realized it was just the house settling. The night wore on, and I worried about what tomorrow would bring. What challenges and revelations were the King brothers going to try to throw my way? Dawn came as it always did, but I was ready for it.
With the first light of the morning sun painting the sky in soft pink and gold, I silently slipped out of the cabin, making sure to not disturb Nik. I’d left them a note which read:
I hope you slept well. I’ve checked, and the roads are clear. I’m going fishing. Don’t be here when I get back, please.
And with that, I went about my day. My heart raced with excitement as I made my way to the riverbank where my small boat waited. I climbed into it and cast off, the gentle lapping of the water against the hull the only sound to break the still morning.
I dipped the oars into the water and glided the boat downstream. The currents helped carry me farther and farther away. I navigated the winding waterway to me and Owen’s favorite spot. No prying eyes would find me here.
The day wore on, and I caught quite a few fish and secured them in the cooler. The warmth of the sun kissed my skin, and I found myself yawning. With a contented sigh, I closed my eyes and surrendered to a quick nap where I dreamed of Nikolai King, of all people.
