Page 6 of Cashmere Ruin

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Grisha shake his head in disbelief. “This isn’t looking good for you, Yurochka.You realize that, I hope?”

“Shut up,” Yuri growls.

“Sneaking here and there, always late to everything. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had something to hide.”

I slam my palm on my desk. “Quit yapping, both of you.”

I don’t appreciate Grisha’s tone, or his accusations. Truth be told, I’ve been fed up with him for a while.

But Yuri isn’t making it easy to defend him. “You will explain yourself, brother,” I say. “Because if you can’t?—”

“I was in Jersey.”

Grisha’s eyes go wide. I suspect mine do, too.

I take in the full implications of his words. Then, without glancing away from my brother’s face, “Grisha, leave us.”

“Pardon?”

“Leave us,” I repeat. “Now.”

A moment’s hesitation. “Yes,pakhan.”

The door opens and closes. Just like that, we’re alone.

“You’ve been looking for her.”

He doesn’t deny it.

“Blyat’, brother,” I sigh.

Leave it to goddamn Yuri to go above and beyond the call of duty and act like a thief about it. I rub my temples. All of a sudden, exhaustion overcomes me. “Sit with me.”

Yuri takes the chair across from me. I rest my elbows on the desk, head propped up in my hands. It’s at times like these that the lack of sleep finally comes knocking. “I’ve been putting too much pressure on you.”

“No!” Yuri denies quickly. “You haven’t, Matvey. It’s understandable that you’d be…” He bites his lip, looking for the right words.

“A lunatic?” I venture.

“In a hurry,” he rephrases diplomatically. “To get this settled as soon as possible.”

“So? Did you find them in Jersey?”

Yuri goes quiet. That’s all the answer I needed.

“Fucking figured,” I mutter. “It’s your third sweep. If you were going to find them there, by now, you would have.”

If possible, Yuri’s face darkens even more. I reach for the glass cabinet behind my back. I take a bottle of bourbon and two glasses, then pour.

“Drink,” I command.

Then I knock back mine.

The alcohol burns a path down my throat. It’s not enough to ground me, but at least it dulls the senses. Mutes the noise of my ever-spinning mind.

Then I remember the last time I had this drink with her.

Neat, right?

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