Page 79 of Plaintive Vow


Font Size:

“You’ll call if anything happens?” She digs through a drawer, producing a thermometer which she also thrusts in my direction.

“Of course,zolotse. But we’ll be fine.”

I feel like we’ve been making progress, but it isn’t as fast as I’d like it to be.

Blair’s like a stray cat. I can’t rush her. I go out of my way to make her feel safe, do everything I can to assure her that I’m here for her, but one wrong move and we’ll be right back at square one.

I don’t want to risk doing anything that’ll scare her off. Asking her to trust me with Niko is a big ask, but if we’re ever going to get to a point where she feels safe enough to love me the way I love her, it’s a hurdle that she’s going to have to overcome.

We’ll get to the finish line eventually.

I’ll wait for as long as I have to. And even though the words have been on the tip of my tongue for years, I’ll keep waiting until she’s ready.

She stays long enough to make sure I give Niko the right amount of medicine and gives me the number for his pediatrician, just in case, before she finally relents and leaves. I pretend not to notice the concerned way she eyes both of us when she does.

Only after she’s gone does the worry set in. What the hell was I thinking, volunteering to watch over Niko on my own? Blair clearly wasn’t comfortable with it, and I bet he won’t be, either. Especially not after the way he put up a fight while taking his medicine.

I take a deep breath, trying to disguise my worry. Kids are like sharks. He’ll smell my fear and take advantage of it.

I go back to his room, nearly choking on my worries. He’s quietly crying into his pillow, cutting to my core more effectively than anyone ever has before.

“You alright, buddy?” I ask, running a hand over his forehead. “Does something hurt?” He nods pathetically, turning his watery eyes to me. “Need-to-go-to-a-hospital hurt, or need-a-hug hurt?”

Instead of answering, he reaches out for me so I can scoop him into my arms, and I run a hand up and down his back.

“Does that help?”

He shakes his head, wiping snot on my shirt.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

Hopefully a distraction will help him relax enough that he can fall asleep.

“Yeah.”

We sit side by side on the couch, watching a movie with cartoon dinosaurs until his tears finally dry. He yawns, resting his head on my arm, alternating between pushing a finger against the veins in the back of my hand and playing with my fingers.

Thank fuck he’s managed to calm down. I don’t know whether to thank the meds or the distraction, but if Blair camehome and he was still crying, I don’t know how I would explain the situation without making it seem like I can’t handle this.

Niko means the world to her, and I need her to know that I’m capable of looking after him. Of looking after them both.

My phone pings in my pocket, and I check it, just in case it’s Blair. I scowl when I see another text from Maksim and shove it back into my pocket while I pull Niko closer, not bothering to read it.

I should have predicted that Maksim would start lashing out at everyone and anyone after Pavel died, but I honestly hadn’t considered him in my decision. Every day he greets me with mountains of shit to clean up, but that’s a problem I can deal with in a few hours.

The bodies can cool, blood can stain, and egos can stay bruised. They’ll still be there at the end of the night. I’m not going to abandon the little family I’ve claimed as my own just so he can maintain his rampage unimpeded.

After Blair’s home and I know that she and Niko will be alright, I’ll deal with his wrath. Until then, I don’t give a single shit about what he wants from me.

Only a half hour into the movie, Niko goes quiet. I glance at him, half expecting him to be asleep, but he’s fighting it. He’s still, staring straight ahead and blinking slowly. Nudging him, he looks at me, his flushed cheeks and tired eyes making him look miserable.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

He shakes his head and crawls halfway into my lap, using my thigh as a pillow while he makes himself comfortable.

Maybe it’s not as comfortable as he’d be in his bed, but this works too.

“What’s your favorite color?” he asks as I pull the throw blanket off the back of the couch and wrap it around his shivering form.