I sensed his frustration, or maybe it was resignation. It was clear he was over the need to justify our relationship to anyone, even family. To him, it wasn’t a topic worth the emotional energy it consumed. Easy for him. He wasn’t the one who would be living with them. His words only confirmed my suspicions.
“I understand their position, but honestly, it isn’t anyone’s business what we do. We’re all grown, no one is in the dark, and I don’t give a fuck.”
He grew pensive and went quiet. Maybe he was struggling more than I knew. I studied his profile and startled when he turned his eyes to mine.
“I think it’s time I tellyousomething, since you’re likely to have questions, or will at some point.”
I straightened in my seat, pulling on the seat belt to loosen it. Something was off with him. His demeanor had changed into something akin to sorrow. My heart pounded while I gulped. I didn’t like the look in his eyes.
Several minutes passed in silence, and I finally asked, “What is it?”
Finally, he took a deep breath and admitted, “Ivan was a twin. We…had a sister.”
I froze, sensing this wasn’t something lighthearted. The sudden shift in his tone and the sadness in his eyes spoke volumes. My instinct was to tell him it was okay, that he didn’t need to share if it hurt this much. And I could tell it did. Two keywords said it all.
Ivanwasa twin. We…hada sister.
“Her name was Vanya. I know you’ve never asked why we snatch souls, but she’s the reason. Damn, it shouldn’t be this hard to talk about, but fuck me, it still is.” He looked out the window, and I caught Marcus staring at him through the rearview mirror. “There are several paintings of her throughout our parents’ house.” His voice filled with melancholy, each word dripping with sorrow and regret.
“You don’t have to tell me. If it hurts too much, I understand,” I breathed, hating the turmoil whirling in his eyes.
This was what Marcel was talking about, the date on their tattoos. I could easily put two and two together. If they started soul snatching because of something that happened to her, then it wasn’t good.
“She was spending the weekend at a friend’s house. We didn’t know it, but her much older brother threw a party. Their parents were out of town. Some bastards raped her, repeatedly.” His voice cracked, and my heart seized in my chest.
I sucked in my breath.What had I done?As Alek continued speaking, the pieces fell into place. Ivan’s torment took on a whole new meaning. Vanya was raped. His twin. Her suffering was his suffering, and it had left scars. No wonder he was so broken. In his eyes, I’d put him on the same level as the evil men who hurt his twin.
“She came home and stayed in her room for two days. She claimed she was tired because they’d stayed up for longer than twenty-four hours. My mother found her broken and crying on the bathroom floor. They destroyed our beautiful little sister.”
A sick feeling churned in my stomach as I realized the gravity of my actions and the consequences. Ivan saw what happened between us through the lens of his sister’s tragedy, and now he was torturing himself. There was no fixing this.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching out to caress his face.
“She was only twelve years old. It got worse as time went on. We couldn’t find exactly who had been responsible. She’d showered multiple times by then, so there was no evidence.” Tears formed in his eyes, and I knew immediately there was more to his story. I didn’t think I could bear it. “Her first suicide attempt was shortly after. Ivan found her. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d find her that way. Once it was pills, and once…once…god, there was so much blood.” He paused, shaking, his eyes seeking mine.
My guilt only intensified as he told me her story.
“There’s more. And I need to get it out, so maybe you’ll understand. She and Ivan got into a fight one night. This was a few years after, but honestly, she was never the same. How could she be, right?” He took a deep breath, and I nodded. “She was out of control, making rash decisions, lashing out and pushing us all away. My parents’ last resort was to send her to a treatment facility, but she refused to go. That’s what she and Ivan argued about. She wanted him to tell them not to make her go. He refused, and she ran away that night.”
I gulped, unsure how I could possibly comfort him. “As you can imagine, Ivan took it the hardest. We were having a sleepover at Bash’s house. We came home to find her gone, a letter left on her pillow.”
Alek’s voice was raw, and I noticed the ever-present attention of Marcus listening. He was worried, and that made me realize these men were the embodiment of brotherhood.
“I couldn’t make it better, Kinsley. As the oldest, it was my job to protect all of them. But I failed my sister and her other half. As she slipped away from us, so did Ivan in other ways.”
His voice broke, and he worked to control his breathing. The guilt radiating from him was almost unbearable. Somewhere along the way, he’d decided he was at fault, that he alone shouldered the burden. And, in the end, didn’t deserve healing. I hurt for him on a whole new level.
“Justice was denied Vanya, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do—at least as a child, anyway. I made a vow that once we were old enough, we’d find the men responsible and exact our revenge.”
“And that is how you became the Reaper, the Crow, and the Blade,” I stated, knowing in my heart it was fact.
“Yes, and now you know more about why we do what we do. It was therapeutic, almost healing in so many ways. It set us on a path. It’s a weary one, though, and there never seems to be an end in sight.” Aleksandr sounded exhausted, and I knew now why he got migraines.
Something in me broke further. I pictured them as teenagers, dealing with the rape, then the disappearance, lost and afraid. It shattered me. They must have felt so helpless. Especially knowing she’d become suicidal.
Was that where this was leading?
“It doesn’t end there, either. I wish to god it did. We searched for her, hired private investigators, but it was as if she disappeared off the face of the earth or never existed,” he continued. “Years later, we received a letter from her. It included our great-grandmother’s broach and her ashes.”
