Page 58 of Volatile

Asshole.

Opening my mouth, I ignore my mother’s voice admonishing me for something small from my own head. It’s her voice that has implanted itself as the one who tells me everything is going to fuck, she’s still pointing out my flaws, but I don’t live there anymore so she can’t pull me out of bed and force me to step on the scale. It still sours the taste in my mouth, it’s not fluffy pancakes and sweet compote with cream but everything I’m not supposed to have.

Vitali doesn’t notice and stuffs his face in between trying to force me to eat. I peel his arm off me to escape and my voice doesn’t betray the panic inside of me.

“I need to get my laptop.”

Old habits are hard to break, sweat dots my hairline like the nights I’d sneak food up to my room only to be found out in the morning. I’m an adult for fuck’s sake, I don’t have her close to my life but she’s still in my head. The bitch could die, and she’d always win.

My puppy follows me, holding the plate in one hand and shoveling food into his mouth. He doesn’t pause or ask questions as we sit in the room I’ve designated for my research. I sit cross legged in the middle of the floor while I wait for the screens to come to life, and Tali swaps his now empty plate for me. His hands come under my thighs, and he positions me to sit between his legs with his chin on my shoulder. I can smell sugar on him, it’s what forced me to move and there’s nothing sour about his mouth on mine.

It turns bitter when he breaks the connection to ask, “What did they do to you, Anastasia?”

Why does he have to say my name like that, as though he knows me enough to feel comfortable calling me what no one else does. He gently cups my jaw, his thumb strokes against my cheek and I’m exhausted. I want someone to know me, but I can’t let him see how pathetic it is, that some childish bullshit has followed me into adulthood.

“Tell me who hurt you so I can make sure they never get the chance again,” he says softly, so softly that I can feel him swaying with every brush of his lips against my ear.

I can tell him about one night, he already knows a part of it and my eyes close, hating how fucking weak I am.

“Borya found out his daughter was selling my panties in school, I wasn’t even allowed to explain that it wasn’t me.”

I can still remember the impact of his fist splitting my cheek. It didn’t hurt as much as my mother cheering him on and calling me every derogatory name she could think of. He was upset that something was taken from him, and my mother was upset about her image, no one ever gave a fuck about me.

Vitali takes a deep breath to control his anger, but I’m wrapped in his body, and it comforts me. The same question I ignored earlier comes back with a vengeance.

“Did he touch you?”

Not hit me, beat me, or anything on that spectrum of violence. He says touch in the way society knows means more, a touch can be gentle or rough, but this context is deeper.

My eyes are closed and I’m fourteen again, talking to myself to rationalize my life.

“He tried but I woke up and started screaming.”

Fuck, my heart is beating too fast.

I need that memory rewritten. Waking up to someone I want touching me, knowing they actually give a fuck about me and not lusting after a child. Maybe then I won’t freak out at the thought of someone sleeping beside me. A soft kiss touches my cheek with urgency and Vitali’s warmth is removed from my body as he abruptly stands. There’s the slightest limp in his gait as he storms out of the room and I’m too slow following him.

I fucked it up. Borya was right, he’s a fucking Vor, no one would believe the shit I say when they’d already labelled me a whore. I straighten my shoulders, so I don’t crumble as I stand in the hallway to watch the only person who hasn’t used the rumors against me walk away. I’ll be fine, I still have Vitali’s voice in my head when my mind tries to go to war with me. It’s kept me going this long and I’ll be fucking fine.

But my throat is dry, and swallowing is audible as he comes back out of my room fully dressed and pauses in front of me. His hands are warm as he cups my face with both hands, but his tone is deadly, and it mentally knocks me off balance.

“Did your mother know?”

She called me a whore with every sentence and accused me of trying to steal her husband, so who fucking knows what’s in her head. I’ve already said too much, and if I tell him the full extent of the truth it will just prove what they always said. So, I force myself to remain still.

Vitali hardens and presses his lips to my forehead as he says, “Lock up and wait for me.”

He’s not pushing me away, calling me a liar, this is worse, and I grab his arms because the hierarchy will get him killed.I don’t give a fuck about seeming clingy or needy as I wrap my arms around his middle so he can’t leave. He can’t go to New York without starting a chain of events that will fuck things up on multiple fronts due the Vartanovs’ agreement with the Albanians and then attacking a Vor would get him killed, neither of which am I worth.

He presses his palms to my shoulders to push me away and I lock my fingers together when he tries to get me off him. When pushing against my shoulders doesn’t work, he reaches behind him and tries to pry my arms off him. He can do what he wants, it won’t achieve anything because I’m holding on for a life. Not my own, his.

His hand lands on my nape, squeezing, trying to pull me back and forcing my tongue to move.

“He’s a Vor.”

I look up to meet his eyes, the blue is violent and tumultuous with anger as he leans into me and grits, “And I’m a fucking Vartanov, I’ll take the punishment. You need to let me go, sweetness.”

Emotion chokes me at his conviction, his dad beat the shit out of him and he’s used to violent hands, that doesn’t mean it’s okay, Vitali is the puppy. He’s sunshine and sugar.If that fucker touches him, I’ll end up dying alongside him.

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