Chapter 60 Sima
SIMA
Fuck, yes. It’s open.
I press an ear to the door. When I don’t hear any footsteps, I take off my shoes and slip out as quietly as I can.
My heart pounds as I creep down the hall. It reminds me so much of the first time I’ve run away. I’d snuck into the kitchen to pack some food for the road, and I was terrified of being discovered. Back then, my heart pounded like this, too.
I reach the winding staircase and strain my ears to listen for my father’s men. But for once, luck must be on my side, because I don’t hear anything. They’re probably patrolling outside. More afraid of Petyr than they are of me.
Thanks for underestimating me again, Dad.
I make my way down. Each step makes my heart hammer harder. I keep an ear out for creaks, but my socket feet are soft on the stairs, the wood gentle and giving.
Finally, I reach the foyer.
The front door appears before my eyes.
I don’t even give myself a second to process. I just sprint straight to it, hands outstretched for the knob—
“Not so fucking fast.”
—and then my father’s hand closes around my hair.
I scream.
“Shut the fuck up,” he snarls. He’s never been much of a swearer, but then again, we were kids. He must have been holding something back, if only for appearances’ sake. “You’re coming with me.”
He yanks hard on my hair. My vision goes white with pain. It’s like my scalp is being pulled off, and as much as I want to pull the other way, I’m just not strong enough.
He drags me back upstairs like that. I’m kicking, screaming, my head on fire, but he doesn’t stop.
“You whore.” He spits that word at me like I didn’t learn it at his feet. “Running back to that Gubarev boy like a bitch in heat.”
Don’t say that. It’s the small, pathetic part of me that’s begging in my mind. The stupid little girl I never quite stopped being. The one who needed to be loved and protected by her father. Don’t say that to me.
But my father was never there to love or protect me. To him, I was never more than a tool.
“I should break both your legs for this,” he mutters halfway up. “Make sure you can’t pull this shit again.”
No. Cold dread mixes with the bright hot pain in my scalp.
He’ll do it. I can hear it in his voice—he means it.
And if he does…
Then I’ll never get out of here.
I start thrashing harder. “Let me go!”
I lunge for the railing, even though we’re so high up I’d break my neck, never mind my legs. But any shot is better than no shot.
He doesn’t let me tip over. Just yanks me harder and drags me further up.
“You’re crazy,” he pants. “Just like your bitch of a mother. Took a few beatings for her to learn her place. But in the end, she did.” He grabs my arm, nearly tears it out of its socket.
“You will, too. Once I’m through with you. ”
“I—” I gasp against the effort and the pain. Break past the tears crowding my eyes. “I’m your daughter.”
“You’re nothing.”
He lets me go at the top of the stairs. I fall to my knees. “Dad, please. If you ever loved me…”
I search his face. Try to see a change, any change at all. A small window of humanity left inside the monster.
But there’s nothing.
I never thought I could die while still breathing. But in that moment, a part of me dies. The little girl inside me. Stupid, reckless, naive. And so, so desperate to be loved.
I get to my feet and push.
Nikolai stumbles back against the railing. “What’s this?” he asks, almost amused. “You’re fighting me, girl?”
“Yes,” I cry out.
“Idiot.” He grabs my wrists midair. “Stupid little girl.”
Then blood explodes from his forehead.
It takes a second for me to process what I’m seeing. The hole that opens in his head, red and black at once. The shock that fills his eyes. The empty veil that follows.
His grip on me goes slack, and he falls.