41. Elanee
41
ELANEE
T onight, we’d been careless, and in truth, I only had myself to blame since I was the one who called Dmitri. I’d been scared and fallen into the habit of depending on him. And then I had the audacity to blame them, momentarily wishing I’d never agreed to all of this. That Dmitri hadn’t intercepted me on that flight to Texas. Had I not, I would’ve eventually just faded out, but at least they would be safe.
I listen in on Dmitri’s phone conversation as I hide behind the bedroom door. I’m assuming he’s updating Luca, most likely because this might impact their plan if we’d been spotted together. I realize I’m rubbing my stomach with sickening unease. Dmitri had told me to shower in his ensuite, but I still haven’t been able to leave the edge of the bed where I sit.
Why don’t you just kill yourself?
Tears prick at my eyes as I push the thought away. It’s a massive demon to fight. One that’s become more prominent in recent months. But I can’t give that monster the satisfaction that he broke me to the point where I’d finish myself off for him. It didn’t make me feel any braver.
Dmitri walks in, and his gaze is a wild raging storm. I know he won’t hurt me, but it doesn’t make it any less unsettling.
“I didn’t mean to say you were like your father.” I quietly say as he leans against the wall. For all of his faults and perhaps slight similarity in outbursts, they were not the same person. Dmitri was breaking apart at the seams to protect me. And when we were hurt and felt powerless, we took it out on each other. Tears well in my eyes, and I wish they didn’t. I didn’t want him to see this version of me when I tried so hard to put on a front for them that I was okay.
“That’s the least of my concerns, Cricket,” he says earnestly.
I take a sharp breath at the stupid nickname; the endearment nestles deeply in my heart. “I’m sorry for all of this.” Uncontrollable emotions break free, and I burst into tears. I loathe myself for not being strong enough to fight my battles. To rely on them when it jeopardizes them. To put him in such a situation where he has to kill, yet again, someone for me.
He sits beside me, the bed dipping as he cradles me into his chest. I sob, trying my hardest to push it back down. To keep it together. But it’s bursting at the seams, and I can’t shove it back into the boxes where all of these suppressed emotions belong. He rests his chin atop my head. “You never have to apologize for this. Whatever comes our way, we’ll fight it together.”
My heart fractures at the sentiment. I cry and cry, and he’s with me, holding me, embracing, caring for me silently in the way that Dmitri always has.
“I hate him,” I squeak. So much. He took absolutely everything from me.
“I know,” he grits. And it’s all he can say because I imagine he’s a raging storm inside. I can feel it. A cool, palpable tension that’s one click away from snapping.
And I feel all the more guilty for being part of the reason he’s slowly unraveling, but I’m not strong enough to stand on my own and not cling to him for dear life.