Page 179 of Nothing More

An image of him sitting miserable on the end of the bed, shaking his head, insisting Misha wasn’t “like that” filled her mind, and so she hesitated. Only a beat, but long enough that Devin said, “No?”

“No, he is. Yes.”

His brow went up, same as hers did. Another of those bloody in-the-mirror reminders of him she wouldn’t,couldn’tgive up, and nor could her brothers.

“He does,” she insisted. “Things have been…complicated.”

“Complicated can mean a lot of things, love.”

“You know the situation. That’s complicated.”

He held her gaze a moment longer, then nodded. Glanced toward the food. “Shall we call them in to eat?”

She said, “You didn’t ask if I love him.”

A sly grin, as he stole a chunk of leftover bread off the cutting board. “Don’t need to. That doesn’t matter. We weren’t built for love, us Greens. I just need to know he’s stupid over you.”

~*~

“That was Dear Old Dad,” Raven said, hours later, as she sank down onto the side of the bed and toed off her slippers. If she was an hour glass, all the sand had drained out of the top. She could have slept for days after one meal with him.

“Yeah,” Toly said, dryly, where he stood at the dresser, taking out his earrings. “I met him before, remember?”

“You were in the same room with him, at the Ritz. You never had the unique pleasure of being the focus of his attention.”

“I watched his own son punch him. I figured out he was an asshole.” He left the lip ring in place, tousled the product out of his hair, and then lingered a moment, gazing at his own reflection.

“Was it too much?” she asked. “I’d apologize on his behalf, but I claimnoresponsibility for his behavior.”

Dinner had started innocently enough. She and Devin had carried the food into the adjoining dining room, and Reese had seen that everyone had a refill. Raven had even relented and allowed Cassandra a single glass of wine, which she pretended not to make faces over. It was a long table. Devin had taken up residence at the head, which left Raven the foot, and everyone else filled in. Toly sat on her right, Reese on his other side, and Raven had felt he was safely insulated that way.

But there was no such thing as insultation when it came to Devin.

“Not bad,” he’d said, after a few bites of stew. “Who made it?”

“I did,” Raven said. And then, stupidly: “Toly helped.”

“Oh.” The air seemed to go out of the table all at once, something like a collective inhale. Tenny’s mouth twitched; he knew what was coming, and the little wanker was going to enjoy it. “You’re culinarily inclined, then? It’s Toly, isn’t it?”

“You know bloody well it is,” Raven said on a sigh. “I’ve just said it, for one.”

“Short for?”

“Anatoly,” Tenny supplied, and ignored Raven’s murderous glance that told him to stay well out of it.

Devin dragged his spoon lazily through his stew, turning over carrots and parsing through onions. “I always liked Russians.”

“Oh my God,Dad,” Cass muttered.

“They don’t give a damn, you know? Not trying to be anyone’s friend.”

Toly had his head bent over his bowl, stirring, but not eating; listening, intently, by the set of his shoulders, but not speaking.

Devin continued, “And how old are you, Toly? You look younger than my Raven.”

“Oooh,” Miles hissed, under his breath.

Tenny snorted.

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