Page 11 of Vasily the Nail

I was mad. I don’t know why. Not at her. At the world? At her brother? Atmybrother? Maybe I just wanted to be the one in control for a little while, and this was how I could make that happen.

I set the items on the counter, and she approaches timidly. She picks up one of the bottles, opens the cap, and smells it. I can tell from the way her nose twitches and her perfectly shaped brows wrinkle that she doesn’t like the scent, but she nods and says, “Thank you.”

“Pizza,” I say. “Toppings.”

“What? Oh, I’m not hungry.”

I know she’s lying. She hasn’t eaten all day. She’s upset, and that might be dulling her appetite, but there’s a petulant undertone to her voice that tells me she’s mostly being obstinate.

Fine. I had to deal with a teenaged sister struggling with all the banal disasters of high school while also grieving her father. I know how to handle this.

“I order two pizzas, eat one, so—”

“You eat an entire pizza?”

I keep my smile as toned down as I can, but I’m glad she’s engaging with me. I realize this is her nightmare, but the sooner she’s comfortable with me, the easier this will be.

“Da.Whole other pizza, but no one eat. Is coupon. You like?”

Her lips swish back and forth in contemplation.

“Fifteen days,ovechka. Must eat.”

On a heavy rise and fall of her chest, she says, “Just cheese,” which she then amends to, “Extra cheese?”

I stare her down silently, leaning against the cabinet casually to keep from intimidating her.

“Umm, olives and mushrooms, too.”

I nod and walk out of the bathroom and close the door behind me, leaving her to her privacy. A second later, I hear the shower begin to run, and then the door opens for her to yell— well,projectbut timidly— “Do you think they have anything sweet? But, umm, but not fruit.”

I grin and, in deference to her heritage, add four cannolis to the order.

Day 2

Vasily

I am nota morning person.

It works well for me most of the time. Organized crime is a 24/7 kind of thing. When I’m woken up at seven a.m. from my phone freaking out, I know it’s going to be a long-ass day.

I scrub my eyes to attempt to wake myself up, but I had to smoke way too much last night to get myself to sleep. The sight of Ana in ladies’ pajamas from my closet, watching me down slice after slice while she nibbled at a single slice of hers and then half a cannoli, was unsettling. Usually, I’ll have an edible to go to sleep, but I smoked a bowl instead. Now, my brain’s fighting to come back online.

I roll to my side and fish around in my night stand until I’ve got my morning coke. I snort it right off the little spoon I keep with it, tuck it back in the drawer, and roll to my other side to pass back out for another five minutes before it kicks in.

Ana is lying there staring at me. I’m not sure if the look is horror or just overload. She’s definitely been awake for a while, though, in that same ball she curled herself into on the ride home. When we went to bed last night, she was under the blankets, but now she’s divided us with them and is using my coat as a blanket again.

She’s shivering.

“Cold,” I point out, irritated that she would be so dramatic after I’ve already done my worst to her and she loved every second of it. How fucking stupid is she that she would think two extremely cozy layers of blankets would keep her off my cock if I demanded she ride it?

Again, not a morning person here. Just doing my best not to say all those words out loud.

“It’s cold in here,” she whispers, and I swear she’s chattering her teeth for effect.

I groan and flop onto my back to contemplate my ceiling for a moment. It’s not that cold in here. It’s just cold outside. Sorry this isn’t her perfect Phoenix. Suck it up, buttercup.

I need coffee immediately.

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