Page 28 of Deadly Knight
I make it to the bottom step before she quietly calls after me, my name in the wind, but I respond, eager for every last scrap from her.
Katya followed me, standing on the edge of the top step. Her expression is resolute, unyielding in her decision, but her cheeks are flushed red, eyes streaming with tears.
“Can you promise me one thing?”
“Anything.”
“Don’t look for me, Dimitri. Forget about me.”
Anything…except that.She’s already ripped out my heart; now she’s asking me to destroy my soul as well?
That’s like asking Earth to forget to rotate. To ask thed’yavolto forget about carrying souls toAd.To ask flowers to forget to bloom in spring.
“It’s impossible to forget one’s soulmate, Katya, but I promise to not search for you. You’ll never hear from me again, if that’s what you want. I hope you find everything you want in life,moya dusha,and that you’re safe. Always.”
Her hand drops to her wrist, and she fingers the green ribbon she hasn’t taken off since the day I tied it to her wrist.
The sight of it—or heartbreak, maybe even stupidity—compels me, and I stride back to her, reaching before she can flinch, taking her wrist in my hand. Her skin is unbelievably warm with life, and I’m happy for her because I’m numb with the chill of death. Her warmth brings me back to life for a moment. Long enough to reach for the knot in the ribbon and manage to undo it.
“Since you’re keeping my heart, I’m keeping this. It’s only fair.”
It’s the only part of her I’ll get to keep, after all. Unlike my heart, though, this I’ll never let go.
With the ribbon clenched in my grip, I stride down the path, every step feeling like bricks are strapped to my feet. I’m passing theFor Salesign when the door behind me shuts.
And like that, I’ve lost the only thing I ever truly cared about.
WatchingDimitri walk away hurts more than what those men did to me.
What’s worse is I’m at fault this time. Graduation night was the catalyst, but I’m the one who got tangled in the web, and I believe the only way out is to run. To break through the barriers and pray for a chance of coming out the other side, even if that other side is in a new place. A place where the past can remain in the past.
This time, there’s no one to blame for my actions. Ivan Volkov and his hired pack, perhaps, but if I were a stronger girl, his malice would be nothing worse than an annoying fly on the wall. If I were good enough to stand beside Dimitri, I could be right alongside him when he targets his father.
But I’m not. Instead, I’m running. It’s safer.
I barely remember to shut the door before the emotionless state I’ve been masking myself in shatters and my sobs echo through the house.Ishatter, and between breaths, I end up on the floor, screaming into the entranceway carpet after twenty minutes of appearing empty and resolute. Because if myemotions were witnessed by him, I would have cracked on the front step. I needed to put up a front, which just about killed me. Appearing uncaring… He didn’t deserve it.
My hand instinctively goes for my wrist, bare for the first time in years. From the beginning, the ribbon added very little weight and became unnoticeable after a few days. Now, my limb feels too light—wrong—missing what’s become crucial to me.
Heart, mind, body, and soul, I love Dimitri…but sometimes love isn’t enough. The final thing the therapist recommended before my discharge is to think about whatI, no one else, needs to mend, and remaining in Moscow isn’t it.
If I were better, if I chose to remain by his side, it’d only be a matter of time before Ivan came for me again. The more we resist, the harder his attacks will become, and it’s not only my life I’ve been considering.
My parents, for one, might get dragged into it, used against me—and thus Dimitri.
And what happens when Dimitri is directly caught in the crossfire? When he loses his life trying to save me? I’m not worth that.
What happens when Dimitri isn’t the soldier his family wants him to be? When keeping me by his side means never reaching his full potential for the Bratva. I’m not worth that.
This way, he’s safe. From me, from his father.
This way, I’m safe. From him, from his father.
I’d finally come to the decision over a day ago, but couldn’t see him until I was physically able to leave bed. Every attempt was met with a wave of nausea. The very thought of what I was planning to do made me sick, and now that it’s over and I’ve done it, I feel…broken.
It’s not fair. It’s not how any of this should be.
Mama rushes from the kitchen and lands on her knees beside me, wrapping me into her comforting hold. She rocks me, murmuring calming things I barely hear over my crying.
