Page 47 of Voracious

She’s personifying a smiley face sticker. A sticker. Not something expensive or coveted — a shitty piece of paper.

“I’ve lost it now, I don’t have it anymore, even when I saved it from Yulia.”

A fucking sticker. Something a kid loses excitement over after three seconds, but she’s kept it for over twenty years despite it being faded to fuck. The silent tears are worse than the sobs. They sink me and for the first time in my life, I know I’m a piece of shit.

I’ll fix this shit, buy her the exact same sticker a thousand times over so it will never be taken away again.

Standing up with Ana still attached to me, I walk us into the bathroom and sit her on the vanity. Her eyes are going to be sore as fuck and I know how badly I’ve fucked up when she takes her contacts out without any hesitation. There’s no acknowledgement as she stares into space, and I run the water, waiting for it to heat. She doesn’t ask what I’m doing or look at me when I run a washcloth under the warm spray. I’ve broken the strongest person to exist, and my apology is in my hands as I gently clean her face.

Her hands are limply clasped together on her thighs, and she looks up at me when I cup her cheeks in both hands. My voice is low, not out of choice but remorse.

“Will you come somewhere with me?”

The air in my lungs freezes, waiting for her reaction. If she says no and tells me to go fuck myself, I’ll know she’s fine. I want her rage, a punch to the face or a physical knife in the gut rather than the one that’s currently slicing me apart.

She slides off the vanity without saying a word and walks ahead. She doesn’t stop at the contacts on the floor to replace the ones she’s taken out and keeps walking until she’s out of the room. I step over the sum of her life. A notebook, a few pairs of clothes, her contacts, and some squishy, rubber thing.She’s already outside, pulling on the car door handle despite it being locked, like a robot. Her body is still, and she holds the handle, just tugging it, waiting for it to open. She doesn’t talk to herself or call me a dumb fuck for not unlocking the doors like she usually would. There are no thoughts behind those beautiful eyes that are seeing daylight for the first time without a film obscuring them.

I unlock the doors before I step foot outside, and she gets in with the same blank expression. Her head doesn’t turn when I get in the car, and she doesn’t put her seatbelt on. I speak to the shell of my hellion as I lean over her and buckle her in.

“Do you want to go to the warehouse?”

She blinks but there’s no other response. Fuck. I’ve broken her. I press my apology to her hair and it’s thicker than it used to be with floral notes clinging to it. “I’m sorry, lisichka.”

We drive in silence other than the sound of her wet lashes when she blinks, even that is infrequent, and I have no fucking idea where I’m going. The craft store Dani used to live in as a kid will have stickers and shit, so I drive in that direction, hoping to fuck they have a sticker that matches what I destroyed. I’ve never given a fuck if someone hurts, Ana is different. My usual closed-off approach is obliterated by the innocent hellion.

Pulling up outside the crafts store she gets out, without any acknowledgement or instruction, and stands at the side of the car. Lost. That is what’s written all over her face and if a piece of sticky paper will bring her back, I’ll make the cunt myself.

I go to her side and stay half a step behind her, my hand automatically going to the middle of her back. The neutral zone, between the shoulder blades is platonic and lower is more. Ana doesn’t react until I guide her to the sticker section, and she freezes. They’re all small as fuck, different colors and hues, so I don’t know if they match what I tore. But she leans into my handand looks up at me with the widest fucking smile, and my eyes sting from the sight of it.

“My sticker.”

Two words in the smallest, most innocent whisper from the lips of the most brutal killer I’ve ever met have my throat burning.

She pulls me with her without even touching me as she snatches up one single packet of smiley face stickers. I recognize the pale pink face, the same color she hides behind her socks. I’m fucked over this woman. She’s so fucking good inside, even with blood staining her hands and all the violent thoughts she has, she’s kept hold of that good and trapped it behind tape. Her nose is nearly touching the plastic and she carefully opens it to take out one sticker and gently holds it without allowing her fingers to touch the face.

Fuck, I’m a grown ass man and I’m sure there’s still blood stuck to my scalp from the fights, but I want to bawl like a baby as I watch her put the plastic packaging down.

My voice is rough around the lump threatening to choke me.

“Take them all, lisichka, not just one.”

Her head snaps up and her splotchy cheeks push against her lashes from how crazed her smile is. She’s so gentle as she wipes her hand on her thigh before picking up the plastic and carefully putting the sticker back inside.

I’m never going to leave her side. The rest of my life is hers and I’m indebted to her, not out of guilt, it’s something deeper. She doesn’t take the stack on the holder, not when she was content with one sticker as the replacement instead of the full packet. I take the rest of the stock so there’s not any left on the holder and guide her to the checkout while she looks at the stickers with awe.

The cunt behind the counter has all emotion leaving me, other than anger. He smirks at the pure joy on Ana’s faceas she protectively holds the packet. It’s not in reverence like she deserves but fucking humor. As though there’s anything laughable about a twenty-six-year-old woman never seeing a fucking smile all her life that she latched onto an animated fucking curve.

He pales at the sight of the ink marking the back of my fingers as I slam my hand on the counter. I don’t temper my voice as I watch the blood drain from his face and order, “Get every single one you have in stock.”

His eyes are fixed on the Bratva ink marking the back of my hands. Little fucking dickhead, I’m the nicer one out of the two people stood across from him. He scurries off like a cowardly little rat and I can focus on my hellion.

Fuck me, she’s beautiful. Without all the bullshit she was hiding behind, the fake eyes and fake hair that didn’t suit her because this is who she’s supposed to be. Her eyes don’t leave the stickers, there are six on the front sheet and I swear she’s introducing herself to them. Dickface comes back, dragging two boxes with him and a lump in his throat. I would have left him a tip, but he had to laugh at my hellion, now he’s paying for it, and I grab the boxes before he can try and demand a total. Weak cunt, they’re not even that heavy.

Ana walks ahead without looking away from her stickers and she doesn’t speak until we get out of the doors.

“I know he was laughing at me, I’m not dumb.”

If there’s one thing she isn’t it’s dumb, she’s intelligent in an unnerving way. Aware of everything around her but it’s not worth her attention so dumb fucks assume that they can get away with shit. She stays in step with me as though she knows I need her presence as I agree.

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