Chapter 9
Zoya~
I wasn’t sure what time Kasimir had gotten back from meeting with this family, but it’d been late, that much I’d been sure of. Even with the nap that I’d taken, I had eaten dinner alone, then had gone back to bed, falling asleep almost immediately, not stirring until Kasimir had joined me in bed.
However, when I’d woken this morning, it’d been to an empty bed, and it was beginning to make me wonder if Kasimir ever slept through the night.
Though he did his best to spend as much time with me as possible, he came and went sporadically, but since he didn’t exactly have a regular nine-to-five, I guess that was to be expected.
At any rate, sifting through my clothes, I couldn’t help but think about yesterday and how it was clear that Kasimir Korolev was literally unstable, and that it hadn’t been just exaggerated rumors about his reputation.
Whatever had happened yesterday, Kasimir couldn’t be controlled, though Viktor had managed-barely.
There was something fundamentally wrong with Kasimir, and when he had insisted that I tell him all about my life, that had just been more proof of his issues.
He had held me for hours, listening as I’d told him everything that I could remember about my life, and he hadn’t even flinched when I’d spoken about past boyfriends.
Instead, he had listened, absorbing every word, and I’d never had someone so interested in me like that before.
Granted, Kasimir kept insisting that he wasn’t merely interested in me but obsessed, and maybe he really was.
I tossed my clothes for the day on the bed, then walked into the bathroom, needing a hot shower.
With my superficial wounds pretty much healed, the only concerns were the gunshot wound, ribs, fingers, and I knew that Kasimir had a personal doctor scheduled to visit me soon, only I wasn’t sure when.
Truth be told, it’d be nice to have my fingers re-bandaged, the original gauze fraying already.
As for the gunshot wound, Kasimir kept changing that bandage, making sure to keep it nice and dry, and even though it hurt like a bitch whenever he did, it was better than letting it get infected.
It’d be like a Greek tragedy to have survived all that I’d had just to die of a damn infection.
It was also obvious that the wound was going to scar, and talk about not being able to outrun your demons. Every time that I took my shirt off, I was going to be reminded of that night, and the very thought felt depressing as hell. In fact, it made everything feel hopeless.
Looking in the mirror, while the bruises were fading, I still looked gaunt and unwell, and I wasn’t sure why when Kasimir was constantly making sure that I ate well.
Nevertheless, I looked like hell, and I wondered if it was from all the guilt that I couldn’t seem to shake, and not guilt over Marcelle.
Whether he’d meant to or not, when Kasimir had raged about none of this happening if I’d told him about Marcelle to begin with, that had hit me hard.
Though Viktor had been kind enough not to lay blame at my feet, I couldn’t shake how Kasimir had made a very significant point.
Had I told him about Marcelle, had I shared my day with him, he would have moved me into his house immediately, possibly leaving a guard with my mother if I had asked him to.
My mind went back to how I could have done so many things differently, making me feel like I hadn’t made any progress with my grief.
I also had no one to talk to about it. I had no friends, no real family, and the last thing that I was going to do was heap my emotional guilt onto my grandparents when they were already going through so much themselves.
They’d lost both their children, and I just couldn’t imagine that kind of devastation.
As for Kasimir, I knew enough to know that he didn’t process death like most people.
I was sure that none of the Korolevs did.
They lived a different kind of life than the rest of us, and so there was no way that Kasimir could understand what I was feeling, with or without the guilt.
I wasn’t like them, and that was another thing that was keeping me up at night.
What in the hell did Kasimir Korolev see in me?
I turned away from the mirror with that question rattling around in my head, no answer in sight.
Whatever it was that he saw in me, it wasn’t really there.
I wasn’t this tough, unapologetic killer.
I wasn’t a person comfortable with obscene wealth.
I wasn’t a sex siren or anything like that.
When Kasimir had begun paying attention to me, I’d been a poor girl who worked in a diner because her uncle had made some poor choices.
I’d been nothing compared to his family, and I still wasn’t.
Shaking my head, I turned on the water, making sure that the water was scalding hot.
My entire body felt tense and stiff, and I just wished that I could turn my mind off for a moment.
Even in my sleep, I had nightmares about the night that my mother died, and if I wasn’t agonizing over that, then my nightmares were about a blue and white eyed devil, hunting me wherever I went.
I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash over me, and it felt so good until the tears began to fall.
It felt as if I had control over nothing, and I was quickly feeling like a victim of quicksand that I hadn’t even known had been surrounding me.
It felt as if all my choices were being taken away from me at every turn, and sitting in Kasimir Korolev’s shower, I had to wonder if I’d gone crazy somewhere along the way.
Was any of this real? Was I really here, and if I wasn’t, when was I going to finally come to my senses?
When was I going to finally get my sanity back?
I slid down the tile, so damn tired of trying to force answers that just weren’t coming. My brain couldn’t make sense of anything, and my heart was paying the price. I had no idea how I’d ever be whole again, and I wasn’t even sure if I deserved to be.
“Lepestok,” Kasimir whispered achingly before I felt his arms wrap around mine, and when I grabbed onto him pathetically, that’s when I noticed that he was fully clothed, and that just made me cry harder, pain ricocheting all across my chest from my cracked ribs.
As the tears continued, I wondered how broken did a person have to be in order to cling to the one man who was partly responsible for all the pain that they were going through.
This wasn’t supposed to be my life. I wasn’t ever meant to be living in Kasimir Korolev’s home, much less marry the man.
I was supposed to have had a normal life... a quiet life.
“Shh, Zoya,” Kasimir murmured over the spray of water. “You’re going to hurt yourself crying like that, so please stop.”
“I’m...I’m just...so...so sad...” I cried. “...and...and I don’t know how...how to stop feeling this way. I...I don’t know how to...to make it just stop...”
“You’re not supposed to make it stop,” he said softly as his arms held me tightly. “You’re supposed to let it run its course, baby. Feel what you need to feel, then work through what’s left once you no longer feel that way.”
“It just...all of it just hurts so...so much...” I sobbed. “I don’t know what...what I’m supposed to do with...with all this pain...”
“You give it to me, lepestok,” he replied easily. “You give it to me however you need to, and I’ll take care of it.”
That just made me cry harder.
Kasimir made it sound so easy, but it wasn’t.
Taking my anger and pain out on him was not going to bring my mother back.
It wasn’t going to bring my uncle back. Nothing I did was going to turn back the hands of time, and that’s what I needed.
I needed everything to go back to what it’d been like before my uncle had made the fateful decision to betray the Korolevs.
I needed to go back to living a life of ignorant bliss, but that wasn’t going to happen.
“It’s going to be okay,” he lied. “I’ve got you, lepestok.”
I wasn’t sure how long Kasimir sat in the shower with me, but eventually, he got undressed, and then we took a shower together.
Mindful of all my injuries, he bathed me delicately enough to make me cry all over again, but instead of getting frustrated with my chaotic emotions, Kasimir was just fine with me behaving erratically, and I wondered if it had something to do with his own demons.
When we were finally clean, I didn’t utter a word as Kasimir dried me off, then dressed me like a child.
It wasn’t until he sat me on the bed, then dropped on his haunches in front of me that he spoke to me.
“If you keep fighting what you’re feeling, then you’ll never be over it, Zoya.
Only a sociopath doesn’t feel, and you’re far from a sociopath. ”
“Are you?” I asked, the words coming out before I could stop them.
“What? A sociopath?” he chuckled, not at all offended. “Not at all. The opposite, in fact. I feel too much when my emotions get the better of me.”
“I just want it to all go away, Kasimir,” I told him. “It’s too...it’s all just so damn overwhelming.”
“Then let it overwhelm you,” he advised, again, making it all sound so simple. “And if it breaks you, then so be it. I’ll be here to help you put all the pieces back together.”
“I’m tired,” I sighed. “I’m really, really, really tired.”
“Then sleep,” he replied evenly. “Sleep for as long as you need to, lepestok. You don’t need to stay awake to entertain anyone.”
I cleared my throat before asking, “Will you lay down with me?”
“Like this, or do you want me dressed?” he smirked, still wrapped up in a towel only.
“Uhm...I think dressed would be more comfortable,” I stammered, my cheeks red.
Still smirking, he didn’t exactly laugh at me, but he did throw on a pair of sweats like I’d asked.