Page 26 of Unrequited
ZOYA
I glancetoward the place where the body had been. My attacker. The man who tried to hurt me.
I should feel sick. I should feel guilt curling in my belly… but I don’t.
This isn’t the first dead body I’ve seen.
And if I’d had a decent weapon? I would’ve killed him myself. And it wouldn’t have been the first time.
I only remember flashes of the night my parents were murdered. I remember Semyon shoving us into a closet, Rafail yelling for us to stay put, Rodion trying to run—and Semyon threatening to hurt him if he did. I remember reaching for Rodion’s hand. Holding it. Holding my breath as the unmistakable crack of gunfire echoed around us.
That’s all I have. I don’t remember their funeral or the days after.
Just small bits and pieces. Glimpses.
The rest of my life has been one long act of survival, raised by brothers and a sister who love me fiercely. Maybetoofiercely.
“Well then,” I tell Seamus, my voice steadier now. “I’m set?”
“Alright,” he says, reaching down to brush his fingers against mine. A gentle, grounding touch. “Let’s go.”
A few minutes later, I’m tucked into the passenger seat of a sturdy SUV. It smells like him, leather and spice and something clean and wild. Probably a rental. He’s not from here.
He doesn’t turn on any music. Just drives and talks.
He asks me how my night was. Who I was with.
I give vague answers, careful answers. I don’t want to give him too much.
I wonder where his flat is. I wonder what it looks like.
Will it smell like him?
This moment with him, in the confines of his car… it feels stolen. Illicit. And yet I can’t help the way my thoughts spin, racing with questions I shouldn’t be asking.
What would it be like to go home with him…withouthaving to hide?
To justbewith him?
I can’t even imagine. But oh, I want to.
God, I want to.
I’m a virgin.
And now I’m going home with the man I’ve been crushing on hardcore. Of course my mind leaps to sex.
Not that casual sex has ever appealed to me.
But this?
This wouldn’t be casual.
Nothing with Seamus could ever be casual.
He pulls up to a high-rise building tucked into the city and drives all the way to the back entrance. Discreet and private. Makes sense.
“This it?” I ask.
