Page 33 of Deadly Knight
Diana told them they’d likely get the asking price and nothing more.
Papa shrugs. “Buyer was eager and flexible. Told Diana we can set the official close date. That they’re not in a rush to move in.” His gaze travels to me. “So it’s up to you, Katya. We can move as soon as we’re able to and get settled quicker, or wait until later in the summer.”
I glance out at the window across from the stairs, towards the spot where a certain black car was parked post–hospital stay. Where a driver camped out there for days, waiting for me to welcome him inside.
Where the same driver went after I shattered everything good in my life.
Where I chosemeoverusand made the most selfish decision I ever would.
“I think we’ve gotten all Russia has to offer.”
Two weeks later,the movers load up the remaining boxes for the shipping company to send internationally while I watch from my seated position on the front lawn. It’s a lot of stuff—expected when we’ve packed up our entire lives. Mama sold most of the furniture, deciding it’d be easier to buy new in Canada.
She comes up beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Still ready to do this?”
Before replying, I suck in a large lungful of air, taking in what will be the final day of breathing in my home country. “I’m excited for Toronto. It’ll be an experience.”
“It will.” She squeezes my shoulder. “I’m going to go find your papa.”
With her gone and the truck loaded, the moving company begins locking it up to go. I watch as it rolls down the driveway and onto the skinny road, bumping along as it hits the curb before picking up speed and taking off.
For the millionth time this week, I stare at the spot directly across the street where Dimitri last parked, and my chest pangs with the shadowed ache. My hand, by instinct, strokes where my green ribbon had been tied for so long, feeling nothing more than the ghostly sensation of it. I’ve been doing that often since he took it.
Before feelings burrow deeper in my chest and I argue with myself over reaching out to him—just one final time—I go inside to say a final goodbye to the only home I’ve ever known.
As I step inside the house, a shiver tickles my spine. When glancing over my shoulder, I find the street as empty as it was minutes ago.
Nevertheless, I enter the house, feelinghiseyes on me.
Feeling protected.
The same afternoonthe moving company packs up Katya’s home, the three of them load up in the taxi, since her parents sold their car. Her father helps the driver pack their few suitcases in the trunk while her mother slips into the backseat.
Katya pauses on her side of the car, glancing at the house she’s spent her entire life in. I wonder what she’s thinking about; which memories plague her the strongest?
For me, it’s that fucking porch. It represents the beginning, middle, and end of us.
After driving her home from the party the first official night we met, I walked her up to it, ensuring she got inside safely. She admitted then it was something her ex never did, and I regretted taking so long to introduce myself to her.
I’d seen her around school and was enthralled from the first instance. On my first day of school when the bell rang, she was sucked into a crowd fearing being late to class, but our eyes met and I was utterly addicted. She was dating someone, though, so I watched from afar—until the party when I got to meet her.Something changed on the little stone steps of her home that night. The ties between us began weaving, fusing us together.
So many times over the course of our relationship, I met her at this door. When her parents were gone, it was those steps I stood on during the agonizing minute-long wait for Katya to open the door and pull me inside, where I spent every free moment worshipping her body.
And then the end. When she endedus…broke us.
The car’s trunk slams shut when the driver and her father finish loading their luggage, and it seems to shake her from her thoughts. Katya turns away from the house and goes to slide into the backseat beside her mother.
But then she looks up, straight at me, like she knows. She can’t possibly see me from where I’m hidden amongst the shadows. If she does actually spot me, her expression doesn’t waver as I blatantly already break the deals I’ve made to leave her alone.
Katya blinks and climbs into the car, shutting the door on me and her old life—her world—before she takes off on the road to her new one.
Once the driver gets behind the wheel, the car starts out the driveway, turning right on the road. In the backseat, I see Katya as the car passes by. Her head’s down, her hair covering much of her face—robbing me of my final look.
As the car picks up speed, I step out from the shadows, and by the time it reaches the corner, I’m at the curb. Like a pathetic fucking love song, with the lovesick fool staring after the girl he loves, his only thoughts whether or not to chase her.
The car pauses at the stop sign, and the left turning light blinks. That direction will eventually take them to the airport, where she’ll be gone for good.
One phone call, and I can have that airport burned to the ground—and boy, it’s fucking tempting.
