Page 23 of Voracious

He lifts her off his shoulder, placing her on her feet while she runs before she’s even touched the floor. Viktor waits for her and he takes her hand so she doesn’t fall then guides her into the kitchen while she rattles off random numbers to prove that she’s up for the job.

“Seven, three, nine, hundred!”

My house feelsstrange without Ana in it, the air even feels different. It’s too quiet as though her presence alone infuses the space with sound. Finishing my workout, I slowly walk through the house expecting her to come in. She should be back now. Katya usually spends three hours doing whatever shit she does at the salon, but I pause when I reach the stairs to look through the window beside the door for any headlights.

I’m being a fool and force my steps, taking the stairs two at a time. Fuck, what if she decided to run away again? She has no car or anywhere else to stay but she’s hellbent on being uncomfortable. She doesn’t even sleep on the shitty air mattress, instead choosing to sit by the window all night. I shouldn’t do it. I gave her the rule to stay away from my room and, other than the time she woke me up, it’s been respected.

But I can’t stop myself and press against the door as I pass it. It’s for safety reasons, not hers, my own. If she took off and ran away then I’ll need to change the locks so her crazy ass can’t get back in and kill me in my sleep. Her bag is still in the corner,she wouldn’t leave without it again. I’m not going to invade her privacy any more than peeking through the door and pull it closed. A piece of paper floats out as it gets stuck under the wood. It’s torn around the edges and there’s clear tape covering it. Picking it up to see if it’s significant, there’s nothing on it. She’s weird as fuck and it’s probably a trophy from some prick she killed, or she sees things as well talking to herself. Slipping it back inside, I go and shower. My ears are still waiting for the sound of the door, and I open all the windows and leave my bedroom door open so the sound isn’t muted as I shower.

There’s no sound of a car or anyone entering the house. Ana is stealthy as fuck and nearly scares the shit out of me as I step out of my bathroom once I’m done. She’s stood with dark hair, it’s shorter, sitting below her shoulders. But I can’t process the change when her eyes are a painful bright red. There’s a mark on her temple and my mind can only process one thing as I blurt out, “You wear contacts?”

It comes out as a question, and she freezes.

Then runs the fuck away, locking herself in her room.

One eye is the usual dull brown, fake as fuck and lifeless because it’s plastic. The other a deep blue with swirls of icy blue meeting a brown ring at the center. They’re unique, I’ve never seen someone’s eye hold so much of who they are.

Why the fuck does she hide them? They’re beautiful.

I only got a glimpse and chase after her, wanting more. She’s human, underneath the bullshit she projects there’s a real person with thoughts and feelings. And I’m not fucking crazy. Knocking on the door before I break it down, her sharp inhales come through the wood. This fucking girl has been beaten, again, but she’s hyperventilating over her eye color being known.

There’s no pushback as I press down on the handle, and I take that as it’s okay to enter the room. I pause as soon as I see her. She’s sat under the window, her knees hugged to her chest,while she blankly stares at the wall. Those contradicting eyes don’t land on me as I move closer and squat down, trying to get her attention.

My chest aches at the small childlike whisper. “Evil eyes.”

She’s going to kill me, but I don’t give a fuck and pick her up, cradling her to my chest. Sitting back so I’m against the wall and she’s between my thighs, I stroke her hair to get the psycho back. She doesn’t say anything other than the same sentiment in different ways and her voice is haunting.

“That’s where the evil is.” It sounds as though she’s repeating something rather than having a conversation with herself. “Evil eyes, you have to hide them.”

Someone has broken her. She’s been beaten, again, and it’s fucked with her incredibly delicate mind. I rest my cheek on her hair and hate the floral notes clinging to her as I type with one hand to find out who the fuck hurt her.

Me:

What happened today?

Katya:

Nothing, we were fine then Ana got a message and left

Why???????????????????

She’s just came through the doors all scraped up

I ignore the buzzing as Katya sends through question after question and mute the chat to focus on who broke the unbreakable.

“What happened, lisichka?”1

The endearment feels natural, it matches her personality, and I don’t try to take it back. Ana rests her chin on her knee and looks up at me with that same childlike hurt.

“He always shouted it at me, said no one is allowed to see my hair or my eyes.”

I’ll kill the cunt, chances are she’s already done it, but I’ll find a way to do it a second time.

She protectively holds the strands together at her neck and fills with sadness. “I had to keep lightening it, it’s why I’ve lost it all.”

I join her protection detail and cup the back of her head as I stop myself from complimenting it. Katya always used to go in a foul mood, saying it was for herself and no one else’s opinion, Ana’s would be worse. Keeping my voice low, I stroke her cheek with the back of my fingers and hope she can be honest.

“Who did this, lisichka?”

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