Page 58 of Corrupted Guilt

“You never feared I might leave, did you? You could have had Maxim, or another follow me, watch me every moment but you didn’t. You knew, didn’t you?” she says quietly, it’s a rhetorical question but I answer anyway:

“Yes,” I say simply.

“How?”

Another rhetorical question. The answer is obvious to us both now. She can’t avoid it, but I say it anyway. Out loud. No confusion left. No passive aggressive, missing-the-point, deflections.

“I knew you wouldn’t leave because you made the mistake of falling in love with me, Katya.”

I leave her alone with that truth, now made explicit, to think about what to do with it.

She knows that my loving her is what killed Dmitry. My loving her, going to check on her that night instead of staying by Dmitry’s side is why he was dead. If I hadn’t taken my eyes off the ball, he’d be here, alive, running a thriving Bratva.

It’s good she reminded me of my duty, once again.

25. Katya

I had gotten Maxim to take me shopping again for everything from curtains and blankets to food and bandages for Yuri.

Nothing can really keep my thoughts from looking back at Yuri, even though I tried as hard as I could.

I wanted nothing more than to continue lying in his arms that afternoon. My body limp, throbbing, satisfied from his rough but incredibly satisfying fuck.

Being with Yuri was like being burned alive. Every touch, every glance, every thought set off an inferno inside me.

It was always that way and I would never get used to it, never take it for granted.

That’s the way it was with him. Never easy, never boring.

He wasn't the quick to laugh type. He was a hard and intense man with the force of personality that has its own gravity, and he sucked me in.

It was the way he wanted me. The way he needed me. The way he hungered for me —that deep and desperate loneliness from which he reached out for me with such a desperate need that everything in me responded to it. I loved to be needed the way— I needed it.

He was an asshole, a grump, and hard to be in the same room with most of the time, but he was right. I did make the mistake of falling in love with him. I loved him and had to accept that.

I had to surrender to that fact.

Maxim was very different from Yuri: quick to laugh, very playful, very flirtatious and mischievous. There was something childlike and innocent in him. He must have frustrated Yuri often, but he trusted Maxim above everybody except Anton. Maxim has all those qualities that Yuri has strangled out of himself.

Anton was more like Yuri—or had become more like Yuri over the past few years. They shared a loneliness and sadness —Anton, from the death of his wife and young daughter—Yuri from … birth? But even Anton could smile and have it reach his eyes. Anton didn't have the weight of the world and the responsibility of the Bratva on his shoulders like Yuri did.

When the shopping was finished and we drove home, I retreated deeper into my head, thinking about Yuri. The closer I got to home, to Yuri, the faster my heart beat and the warmer my skin got.

The sex was always amazing— even the gentle, spooning sex like this afternoon. But even during sex, Yuri was still distant, far away, somewhat restrained. I wish we could work everything out—our hangups, our emotional distance, everything— through sex but that was just dreaming. That was avoiding life and avoiding making a decision.

I was pregnant. Three separate pee tests had confirmed it. I had to decide, end this with Yuri and go away from the Bratva but I couldn’t just yet. In a few days maybe …. I was just making it harder, I knew, but just a few more good days could last me the rest of my life. I hoped so.

We were like one person sometimes during sex but after, it was like Yuri would flip a switch and go away, become quiet again and withdraw into himself. He would look at me with cold eyes, like I was a stranger, like I was intruding, or trespassing in some place he didn’t let anyone in.

I was a million miles away, thinking of Yuri, when suddenly the car stopped, we were in the driveway, home.

Maxim helped me bring the groceries and supplies inside then went up to the garage apartment. Yuri was somewhere but hadn’t shown himself, even while I was putting the groceries away.

Then I felt warm breath against my ear, “Did you have a good time?” Yuri asked in a low, angry voice.

I was sensitive to his anger, his grumpiness, his mercurial moods were something I’d gotten used to. His anger relaxed me, just nice to hear his voice.

“Spending your money is always a good time,” I told him.

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