18. Tatiana
Chapter eighteen
Tatiana
The first few fat flakes of snow start the minute Lev returns from town.
Roman can’t really do much to help. I think Mikhail is hiding from me in his bedroom, and I don’t blame him.
I still don’t know what to think about his tattoos.
In fact, there’s a red flag waving in the back of my brain, but if I’m good at anything, it’s ignoring the signs.
Lev’s scrolling through the TV, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
But they’re calling for up to three feet. And we’re in the mountains, surrounded by woods.
“Lev, can you turn that off? We need to prepare,” I say, realizing that I’m not used to being in charge. But thankfully, he doesn’t argue.
I look down at my phone. “It says we need to bring bottles of water inside and fill up a bathtub for flushing water? That we need to fill the generator and test it before we need it. We need to find a place for it where it can vent exhaust fumes but not in the house....”
For once in his life, Lev doesn’t clap back sarcastically, but nods. “I’ll work on the generator. Lemme get Mik for the rest.”
Good. At least he’s on board.
I look past the living room out onto the slope that glides gently down to the mountain lake.
The snow is sticking and accumulating quickly.
A sense of urgency I’ve never felt before grips my lungs.
We could lose power. The SUV has four-wheel drive, but we’re totally unprepared.
We’ve never had a snowstorm like this in the city, and if we do get snow, it’s only a matter of days before the city has the roads plowed.
But there’s always Google.
When Mik comes back out, still avoiding eye contact, with a sweet blush on his cheeks, but his body covered again in the loose clothing he always wears, I push any hard conversations aside.
“Okay, I think we should move the mattress into the living room and close off the rest of the house, so we only have to heat one room...” Mik takes this as his cue, while Lev goes outside to work on the generator.
“What can I do?” Roman asks, standing painfully from the couch.
I bite my lower lip. I really don’t want him doing anything, but I know him. He’s not going to sit idly by. It would be incredibly emasculating for him.
“Would you plug and fill the bathtubs, please? And I think I saw some mason jars and pitchers in the kitchen we could fill for drinking water?”
The corner of his lips tips up, and he throws me a mock salute. It feels good to be helpful, to be in charge.
I open every closet and linen closet and drag every available pillow and blanket and towel into the living room. The towels we’ll use to block any warm air from escaping around the door jambs. The lighter sheets we can cover the windows with, and we can use the comforters for ourselves.
I hear the roar of the generator, and a moment later it kicks off again. A few minutes after that, Lev returns, brushing flakes off his hair and arms.
“We’ve already got about six inches.”
Shit. That was fast.
“What’s next, boss?” he asks.
“Can you find all the matches and flashlights and batteries, and, if there are any, like... camping lanterns in the garage? Anything we need for light.”
He nods again and turns on his heel, doing just that.
“Next?” Roman asks.
I look to see Mik struggling to get an unruly mattress between the door frame, but I don’t want Roman hurting himself with that.
“Can you start the fire, please? Better now than later.”
The outside world is quiet... almost too quiet. Any wind or birds or insects that would have sounded have been quieted under the weight of the storm. It’s increasing my anxiety and anticipation of something bad happening.
Lev returns, looking at me for my next instruction. I really don’t know what I’m doing, and I’m terrified I’m missing something obvious, but I read down the checklist.
“Um... I guess we should all shower now and charge our phones in case we lose power.”
He holds out his hand for my phone, and I’m almost uncomfortable with how amenable he’s being, but I don’t have time to dissect it. “You got first,” he says, so instead of arguing, I hand over my phone and head toward the bathroom.
There’s one on either wing of the cabin. The wing to the left of the entrance is for the master, but that’s where we have Roman’s bed set up and an attached bath. On the other wing are three guest bedrooms that share a bathroom at the very end.
I rush through a shower, afraid that if I leave myself too much time to think, I’ll over-analyze everything that’s happened in the last few days. And I can’t afford that. Roman’s hurt; we have a storm coming. I’ve been pulled out of class - I’m assuming - and Romeo’s fine in his stable.
I rush through my skincare routine, braid my hair into a French braid that will stay clean if we’re without power for a few days, and forgo my makeup. Even just hanging out in the apartment, I always put on some makeup.
But if I can’t wash it off later, I don’t want it to clog my pores.
I throw on my warm pajamas and head back to the kitchen to inspect the food that Lev bought for us. Granola bars, meal replacer shakes, dry cereal, trail mix. A little bit of everything. That’s good.
Just then the lights flicker twice before plunging the cabin into darkness. A little squeak escapes my throat as my adrenaline spikes.
Mik’s behind me in an instant, warm, hard chest pressed against my back and an arm wrapped around my waist. My instant comfort.
I breathe deep, soaking in his steadiness.
Okay. This is okay. We prepared for this.
Lev turns on one of the flashlights. “No. Turn it off. We need to save the batteries for emergencies. It’s light enough.”
It’s not, but as my eyes adjust, the moon reflects through the blizzard, and it’s light enough we won’t bump into anything. The fire also illuminates the living room with warmth.
“Okay,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I’m feeling. “What do we do now?”
“Are you hungry?” Lev asks.
“I’m okay for now. I might have a granola bar before we go to bed.”
When none of the boys answer me, I decide on my own. We should stay off of our phones to conserve their batteries. Only eat when we absolutely have to. Drink only a little. Right now we’re safe, warm enough, and prepared enough.
We’re just bored.
I walk into the kitchen and kneel beneath the sink, reaching my hand back into the cabinet where I thought I saw a bottle of vodka earlier. For a brief moment, I fear a furry animal grabbing my hand, but when my fingers touch glass, I’m relieved.
I saunter back into the living room, brandishing my winnings.
“Let’s play truth or dare,” I say a little too brightly. It’s funny how in charge and controlled I am when it’s life or death, but a little silence with the three people I know the best makes me nervous.
Lev groans. Roman’s reply is silent, and I know why: one, I’m sure he’s worried I’m going to bring up the shower from earlier, and two: I know he won’t ever tell me ‘no’.
Mik simply wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to sit on his lap on the couch. Roman’s on the other side and Lev’s in the single recliner closest to the fire, so it’s hard to see his face in the shadows the fire’s light puts out.
I take a swig of vodka before passing it to Mik, who does the same. “I’ll go first,” I tease.
I tap my chin with my finger as if I’m thinking too hard. I never had girlfriends growing up, and never really made friends in college, so I’m new to this, but this feels good - it feels normal. Like I’m just another college kid at a party, and not a Bratva princess at a safe house.
“Lev, truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
Hmmm... what don’t I know about him? I know he’s a pain in my ass more times than not.
But then the confession in the hallway from earlier comes to mind.
I want to know why he cares - how much he cares - if his caring has limits.
But I don’t want to start off too deep, or he’ll shut down on me completely.
“Do you have a pain kink?”
Even in the shadows, the wicked grin that pulls at his lips sends a shiver down my spine.
“I didn’t think so, but it might be something I need to explore...”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Roman’s eyebrow rise as he looks between Lev and me.
I clear my throat. “Your turn.”
Mik passes him the bottle, and I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs on a large swallow.
“Ro, truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“What would you be doing if not this? I guess... what did you want to be when you grew up?” he asks, passing the bottle to him, and damn - that was a good question.
The room is silent for a long time, with only the crackle and pops of the fire as background. It’s quiet long enough that my skin starts to feel itchy and uncomfortable.
Then he turns his head and looks at me. His singular attention carries a new weight to it in the intimacy of the cabin - the warmth of the fire, the raging storm outside. The darkness and quiet feel like a church or a tomb. Something special and sacred. Like we’re in a world where only we exist.
“An architect.”
The answer is so unexpected, but in an instant I can see it; him wearing a sweater or maybe tweed, leaning over a drafting table, designing things with exact precision. He’d boss people around, and he’d be good at it, too. The image makes me smile, before my smile turns sad.
“Why don’t you?” I know I’m breaking the rules of the game, but I like Roman, and I want better for him.
It never occurred to me that he could want something else, but of course he does.
Why would a grown man want to babysit a dumb girl going to college?
That’s not something a boy grows up wanting to be. Disposable.
“Your father saved my life. I owe him.”
My frown deepens. I’ve heard bits and pieces of his story, of course, but it can’t be that simple, can it?