Page 79 of Nikolai (Kansas City Reapers)

Her motions ceased as silence filled the shower stall. The gentle sound of the running water became a deafening roar, burrowing into my ears mercilessly.

“Niko?” she asked with great hesitation.

“Hmm?”

“When did your father return?”

I knew the question was coming, and yet, it did nothing to soften the blow of the truth.

“Three days later.”

I turned to see her eyes glistening with unspoken sorrow, a tear glistening on her cheek like a fragile dewdrop. The quiet, shuddering breath she took was the only sound that filled the space between us, as if her heart was breaking along with mine. Each syllable of my confession hung heavy in the room, a ghostly reminder of the pain I had buried for so long.

She reached out, her fingers grazing mine in a gesture of silent solidarity. In that delicate touch, I felt the weight of my past weave itself into the fragile tapestry of our shared moment.

“My father did return home, but only long enough to realize all he had lost. The death of my brother had hit him hard. He was gone more, gone longer, every time he left the house to participate in protests and resistance movements. After my mother’s death, it only got worse. He threw himself headlong into the cause. I was too young to realize it then, but he was burying his grief in his political efforts. I understand it now, but it didn’t make it any easier then.”

“You were seven, Niko. What did you do? Who cared for you?” she asked, her eyes searching mine.

“No one. Neighbors checked in occasionally, but back then, things were hard on everyone.”

“That’s… it’s…” she stammered, unable to find words to describe the horrors I was recounting.

“It’s ok,” I reassured her, my hand running up and down her arm gently. “It didn’t last long. My father was killed just a few weeks later. A protest at the parliament building turned into a full-blown skirmish when forces loyal to Yeltsin stormed the place. After that, I was removed from our home and put into an orphanage.”

She seemed unable to keep her hands off of me, providing soothing touches to my arms before dropping her hands and linking her fingers with mine in a gesture of comfort.

“I was one of the lucky ones. I wasn’t there long. An American family adopted me within the span of a fewmonths. Alexander and Nadia Sokolov were both born in Russia themselves and had been unable to have children of their own. With all the civil unrest in Russia, they decided to help the children left orphaned by the turmoil and violence. So, I got out. They brought me back to America; to Chicago. I was raised in a loving, nurturing home, where I was able to enjoy the comforts of American life while still having a taste of my heritage. So don’t weep for me, Maddy. I promise you, I was one of the lucky ones.”

She just wrapped her arms around me and laid her head against my chest, there under the cascading water droplets. Slowly, hesitantly, I wrapped my arms up and around her shoulders and laid my head on top of hers. We stood that way for a long few moments.

Eventually, I let go and finished rinsing off. I had spilled my guts far more than I had planned, but somehow, I felt lighter for it. I turned the shower off, grabbing our towels to dry off with.

As we dressed for dinner, I took a moment to pull her to me, hugging her gently once more.

“Thank you for asking about my past. Not many do. But if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to leave it there for now,” I said, hoping to convey to her the truth in my words.

“Leaving the past in the past,” she said thoughtfully, her eyes searching mine before a smirk graced her lips. “I think I can handle that.”

Dinner was a rowdy affair,the food eaten quickly between almost non-existent lulls in conversation. Maddy was really starting to fit right in, giving as good as she got as teasing and sarcastic remarks were passed from person to person like greeting cards.

“Well, this has been far too much fun tonight,” Jax said as he gathered up dishes from the table, much to Sully’s chagrin. “What do you all say to a game of cards?” He wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not sure Maddy’s ready for that kind of fun yet,” I sighed, feeling overfull and overjoyed at how the day had turned out.

“Hey now! I think I’ve proven I can hold my own,” she scoffed, smacking me on the shoulder. I couldn’t help myself; I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close and kissing her temple. I didn’t miss the look from my brothers around the table, either. Not that I paid them much mind about it.

“You think you’ve got what it takes, princess?” I teased, not even caring that I’d used her honorific in front of the group of them. It’s not like they were unaware of what was going on between us.

“Oh, I can throw down in a game of Texas Hold’em. Trust me on that,Sir,” she sassed, making sure to use my honorific in the truest of bratty tones.

“Oh, you sweet, innocent child,” Deacon chuckled as he stood up, walking over to the cabinet in the corner to pull out the deck of cards. “You think we’re playing poker?”

“Aren’t we?” she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Nope,” Jax interjected.

“Then what are we playing?”

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