Page 93 of Volatile

“He kept saying that’s why everyone looks after Tali because he’s the baby of the family and they always let him get away with things, and that I’ll understand what he means when I’m older, so Tali had to have done something bad because Vlad won’t even talk to him. I tried to go into the stables, but my dad and Dima said I’m not allowed, they even cancelled my riding lesson, and they never do that.”

I turn and ask, “Why don’t you ask your dad again?”

He stops in the middle of the staircase and looks over the railing before he whispers, “What if he did something really bad and then I can’t talk to him again?”

I dip my head as I whisper back, “You can still talk to him. You know how Dom and Vasy pissed you off, so you slept on Tali’s floor?” He nods. “It’s like that, they’re just pissed at him.”

Viktor smiles in relief and steps down on to the same step as me, his arms wrap around my waist and I automatically kiss the top of his head as I lighten my voice and ask, “He’s your favorite, isn’t he?”

“No,” he lies. “I’ve just got used to him stealing my food.”

“Yeah, right, you make extra just for him. But you should tell him that he’s your favorite, it would make him happy and I think he needs that right now.”

I know for a fact that it would since he has arguments with all his nieces and nephews about who their favorite uncle is and maybe it will stop him hurting.

Inessa comes into view at the bottom of the stairs with her daughter on her hip; there’s no smile or attempt to be warm as she stares at me. She’s assessing me and speaks to me like I’m a child.

“You’re both going to eat.”

They have young kids and their own lives but they can’t stop themselves from interfering with my solitude. Five days of them ‘drying out’ Vitali as though he’s a prune and not once have I managed to make it past the back terrace to see him.

His dumbass voice is in my head, repeating what I ignored when he’d ask me to sit with him in his loneliness as we walk into the kitchen with the drill sergeant behind us as Verena mumbles, “Pretty.”

The kitchen is filled with the smell of Tali’s favorite food and Dani softly asks, “Do you think you can get him to eat?”

I don’t know why but I look at Viktor for any signs he’s refusing his food. Vitali always has an appetite, he pre-games his meals and carries snacks in his pocket like a toddler, but she moves another plate closer to me with my favorite food on it as she whispers, “Tali told me, maybe you can both eat together?”

My hand moves with urgency, picking up his plate and I have more energy as I get to him. He can be angry at me or anyone else, but he doesn’t get to change who is when the world would be less without his presence exactly how he is. The stable isn’t locked and the door swings halfway between closed and open as though it hasn’t fully decided what to do, like the people on either side of the wood.

Pain splinters my chest at Vitali’s prone form laid staring up at the ceiling. His hair is a mess, hay sticks to his clammy skin and his hand limply hangs, only being held with a cuff against the bar. It’s not heavy duty, he could easily break out of it, but he’s trapped mentally unable to do anything physically. Dima and Vanya’s voices are hushed at the other side of the stable and I just stand there unsure of what to do.

The first words he ever spoke to me come back to me, he found me on a physical edge, now he’s on a mental ledge.

Slipping through the door, I hold the plate up and my whisper breaks the silence like a shout. “Want a bite? It might save your life.”

The first sign of life comes as he slowly closes his eyes and turns his head without opening them. Pained blue blinks up at me as he croaks, “I’m sorry, sweetness.”

It’s all strange with no information on how to navigate anything. We should have had a discussion; I’d call him an asshole and he’d jump excitedly around then talk about our options while he pretends not to have an opinion. He’d have the dopiest grin on his face, and he’d try his hardest to hide the fact he already has names picked out while battling his hand going to my stomach. Not this backwards shit of not being allowed to feel anything.

Rather than force words I can’t form, I hold the plate out to him and silently beg for him to make everything normal again. He slowly sits up and drops his head to hang between his shoulder. He widens his thighs and moves away from the wet towel on the floor as he asks low, pained, “Sit with me?”

I move before he’s fully finished speaking. As soon as my ass touches the hay, he wraps his arm around my middle, pulling me so there’s no space between us and he presses his lips to my cheek. The numbness disappears with that one act, and I crumble.

With only one arm he manages to hug me and his voice cracks as tears that aren’t mine drip onto my collar bone.

“I fucked up, I’m so fucking sorry.”

My own fall hearing the self-loathing in a voice it doesn’t belong in. I turn my head to face him and cup his cheek as I try to get him to look at me, there’s nothing but conviction in my voice while he shuts me out.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

It’s a mess, a fucked situation we should never have been in, the bruising on my stomach is slowly fading, proving whatever happened was out of our control.

He blindly cups the back of my head and pulls me closer, so my cheek is on his shoulder. The hate doesn’t leave his voice though, and he tightens his one arm around me.

“I couldn’t fucking stand, I made you walk because I’m a weak cunt and couldn’t fucking help you.”

I set his food down on the side closest to his uncuffed hand then wrap my arms around him like I can protect him from his own thoughts and shake my head, waiting for the words to come together in the right order.

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