Page 87 of Nine Months to Love
“I do. Which is why I stopped being scared of you a long time ago.” She meets my eyes, unflinching. “There’s nothing you can do to me that will make me talk against my will.”
I want to prove her wrong. It wouldn’t take long to show her exactly how creative I can be when someone betrays me.
But something stops me. Maybe it’s the fact that Olivia is upstairs somewhere, trusting me to be better than my worst instincts.
Or maybe it’s just that I’m tired.
Violence has a way of hurting both the giver and the taker, and fuck knows I’ve been on both ends of it for so much of my life. Lies are the same, and I’ve had plenty of those, too. I’m so fucking tired of both.
I pull over the single chair in the room and sit down. “Fine. How about an answer for an answer?”
She leans her head to one side and squints, suspicious. “What?”
“You give me the truth, I give you the truth. No games. No lies.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you’ll actually be honest?”
“I promise to give you the truth if you do the same for me.”
She studies me for a long moment. I can see the calculation in her eyes. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I’m sick of not knowing who to trust. And maybe if we’re both honest for once, we can figure out what the fuck is actually going on.”
Another pause. Then she nods slowly. “Fine. I’ll take the first question.”
“Go ahead.”
“Have you found Natalia yet?”
“No,” I admit. “We had a location, but she disappeared before we could get there. We’re still looking.”
She nods, unsurprised. “Your turn.”
“What is your real name?”
“Mila Vladislav.”
So Arkady’s information was accurate. Not that I doubted him, but hearing it confirmed still stings.
“You took your sister’s name,” I say.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“That’s a second question. I’ll answer anyway, though.” She shifts on the cot, almost like she’s enjoying this game. “It was my way of honoring her. I haven’t always done that, even after taking her name. But I intend to now. Somewhere along the way, I lost my way in my mission. But now, I’m re-committing myself to it.”
“You mean you’re re-committing yourself to destroying me.”
“Yes.” The word is simple. Final. No hesitation.
“Why?”
“That’s three in a row, cheater,” she scolds with a giggle. “My turn. Do you love her?”
I don’t need to ask who she means. Olivia. It’s always Olivia.
The answer sits on my tongue, heavy and terrifying. I’ve never said it out loud before. Haven’t even let myself think it fully, not in those exact terms.
