“You’re probably hungry.” I crouch down and pet him. “I’m so glad you’re okay, and I’m glad that your daddy rescued me so we could be together. So where is he? You miss Ilya, too, don’t you?”
He whines. I know how he feels.
The thing that kept me together was always right there in the back of my mind. Staying alive to come home to Ilya and Albert was my hidden rock. That thing I needed to have and hold tight.
And now I’m here at Demyan’s, safe, but with no Ilya in sight.
With a sigh, I straighten and head to the kitchen so I can feed myself and Albert.
“Well, if he’s not here, we’ll call him.” I flick onto my call log and see he called me last night.
But it’s not a missed call; it was answered. Maybe Demyan told him to bring Albert? But when did he take my phone?
I rub my temple and press call, eager to talk to him.
The phone rings out to voicemail, so I leave a message. “Ilya, where are you? Albert’s here, but I guess you know. I wish…” I swallow my words, everything still so new, and with all that’s happened, I’m suddenly overwhelmed. “Call me back. I— We miss you.”
I disconnect the call, and as I head down the hall, my phone starts to vibrate. A thrill hits me, shooting my heart high. But it’s not Ilya.
“Isla!” I answer.
There were a ton of missed calls from her, too.
“Where have you been?”
“It’s a long story…” I proceed to tell her everything, from being blindsided by the man with the message about Max’s killer, which turned out to be a lie, to being rescued and Demyan dragging me here.
She lets out a low, long breath. “I’m… I don’t know if I have words. Girl, you know if Ilya did know anything, he’d tell you to your face, right?”
“I know,” I whisper. “It blindsided me. And even if I didn’t believe this man or wasn’t in shock, I think that the guy would have just taken me.”
She snorts. “Of course he would’ve. Asshole. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I look horrible with my bruises, but I’m okay.”
There’s silence, then Isla says, “Alina, it’s me.”
Some of my walls crumble at those soft words. I swallow and lick my lips.
“I’m… I’m not great. Albert was here at Demyan’s this morning, but no Ilya, and Demyan’s pissed at him. Probably at me, too. So yeah, not great, but I will be. I just need time to process, you know?”
“I know you’ll be okay because I’m going to visit as soon as I can, and I’ll be calling you every day.”
The fierce loyalty in her voice makes me smile.
Albert and I pause outside the kitchen, where the aroma of frying bacon wafts out. I think I may be able to stomach yoghurt.
“I’ll be good.”
“You know it.” Isla pauses. “And give Demyan time. He’s a pigheaded know-it-all, but he loves both you and Ilya.”
“I know.” I ring off.
But while I know that, I’m afraid of it, because that love for both of us may make him feel betrayed. Demyan’s had enough of that from our father, who made him feel like he was never good enough, who put others before his own son, who took credit and gave credit to others for things Demyan did.
I can see him putting this in that world of betrayal.
Albert’s ears perk, and he races off, barking, through the kitchen, out the door, and into the back garden. The kids scream with joy at the sight of him.
