Page 68 of Volatile

“One time Anika picked me up from school early, she didn’t get Val for some reason. He probably ignored the bitch, he was good at that. She could be standing right in front of him and he’d just stare through her until she fucked off. But I was a dumb fuck and I’d engage her, thinking she’d be a normal mother. I’m not even sure why I wanted her to be, all I do know is that other kids would get picked up by their parents and we were young enough that we needed our hand held when we crossed the road. Vlad would hold the hood on our coats so we didn’t run off, but…” I trail off, realizing how stupid it is.

My girl softly says, “But you wanted someone to hold your hand.”

I nod and continue, “Yeah, so I went with her.”

Stasi doesn’t blink or breathe, and I quickly set her at ease.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, nothing happened to me. She took me to a movie, and it was the first time I’d ever watched one. I can’t even remember which one it was now. It was some black-and-white shit and I hugged the seat in front of me, waiting for there to be some color.”

Stasi smiles and whispers, “That’s why you like slashers.”

She’s making her own theories like I do. I’m slowly brainwashing her to be mine whether she admits it or not, her own thoughts are changing and soon she won’t be able to go a second without me being the loudest voice in her mind, battling the toxic bitch that gave birth to her.

“We had popcorn,” I say, “and she even held my hand when we crossed the street. But when we left we didn’t go home, and she was so excited, telling me how I’ll be in a movie too. Vlad had spent years drilling into our heads that no one is allowed to touch us. I was young and I can’t really remember that shit fully other than when we’d go to the bathroom he’d point at our underpants and say that it’s a secret place. Sometimes he’d go through the rules while he was getting us dressed and he’d ask us if we were allowed to take off each item of clothing. I remembered his instructions that if anyone tries to take our clothes off we have to hurt them, shout really loud, and then he’ll buy us whatever we want. So, when she went to some weird fucker’s house and…”

I’m sure she’s not breathing, and she doesn’t even blink as I try to remember the details clearly. It was the first instance of me losing time and I can recall all the details of the house we entered but I have no idea how I got home.

“And when we were inside she asked me if I wanted to have a nap, which was weird because that bitch didn’t look after us. I was tired from eating all the popcorn, so I just nodded but then her and the creepy fucker tried to take my clothes off, so I did what Vlad told me to.”

I think I did anyway.

Her smile is full of pride, and she kisses my cheek before asking, “What did he buy you?”

He’ll probably kick my ass if he finds out I’ve told anyone how human he is, but I’m not going to lie to my girl.

“A life. I don’t remember leaving the house or killing the fucker, I just remember everyone screaming and Vlad had his hand wrapped around Anika’s throat while Len threatened him with something. I was in the bath and the water was all red, I thought it was bubbles but it was on my hands too. I started drawing pictures on the tiles because we’d always trace his tattoos when they began arguing. He took us out of school the next day and we were never left home alone again, then we moved and now I’ve got you. So really, it all happened to lead me here.”

I can’t even remember the lie that I told my brother while he quizzed me for months. The asshole would hold my cookies hostage until I repeated it all. Vlad never allowed the topic to drop, and Val would copy him when we were alone. Neither of us understood the deeper meaning behind Vlad’s worry, we just knew it was bad and I think Len said he had me fight someone. But my true life began with me taking someone else’s and I will never feel remorse over that shit. I should have killed Anika, Vlad probably would have given me every penny he’s earned since then in thanks.

My girl is sweet as fuck and hugs me, her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and her lips brush my jaw as she whispers, “You deserve everything, luchik, and I’m glad the bitch is dead.”

She doesn’t let go until her program beeps showing there are no results and sighs deeply as she closes her eyes. I pick her up before she can obsess over it and carry her to bed.

It’s fucking with her head because she doesn’t stop me getting her ready when she hates being cared for. And she doesn’t get pissed at me throwing her cushions on the floor. She grabs my hand and pulls me down to lay beside her as he curls in on herself. I can’t hold her throat with her facing me and compromise by cupping her nape instead as I lay beside her.

She’s exhausted and I shouldn’t be so happy about it but it means she’s too tired to argue with herself as she wraps her arm around me to pull herself closer. I don’t speak as I watch her, waiting for her to fall asleep so I can see what she looks like when she’s peaceful.

Her face twists in pain and a small murmur is trapped in her throat. I don’t know whether it’s a dream or physical pain until she presses her hand flat to her stomach and tucks her knees up.

“Shh, it’s okay, malysh,” I whisper as I kiss her crown and gently move her hand away. She’s not in deep sleep so I relax her and lightly massage her stomach as she turns onto her back.

As soon as her face softens and her breathing shallows, I know she’s knocked out, but I still test it as I whisper, “Hey, Stas, I wiped my ass on one of your cushions.”

There’s no reaction and I wait five minutes to make sure she won’t wake up as I continue massaging her stomach, waiting to tell her everything.

“You said that I scare you, but you scare me too. I’ve never been possessive over anyone. I don’t really give a fuck what they do. Not with you though, I need you to stay with me.”

She sleeps weird as fuck, there’s no sound or movement and I prop my head on my fist as I watch her at peace for the first time since I’ve known her. Beauty isn’t the deciding factor of my obsession with Stasi, it definitely helps because she’s magnificent. We’re also going to have ugly kids if my theory is right, but they can be our little uggos.

Or if my theory is wrong, she can give me a daughter who is exactly like her, and the true Stasi can flourish. We’ll raise her to be the version of her mother who had everything she needed, no negative voices and to be sweet as fuck like my girl is deep down.

TWENTY-FOUR

Anastasia

It’s early, too early for whatever furniture Vitali is deciding to rearrange in my bedroom. I have to blink and pinch myself to make sure I’m not still asleep when my eyes open to see boxes, moving boxes that I do not fucking own, folded, and propped up ready to be packed as he stands folding my clothes.

He’s engrossed in his task, and I throw a cushion at him to get his attention as I slowly sit up. My eyes go wide when I notice my things inside the boxes and I look between them and him as I ask, “What the fuck are you doing?”

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