Chapter 10 Trick
Chapter ten
Trick
Maxim caught her just before Kira’s head hit the ground.
She was a rag doll in his arms, unmoving, so light she almost felt like air.
He kneeled on the floor and stared at her, waiting for her to bounce up.
“Is this a trick of yours, Morozov?” He slapped her cheek gently, thoroughly confused about what she was doing.
She was pale, like all the blood had drained from her face.
“Don’t play around like this.” Fingers went to her throat to search for a pulse.
It was light against his fingers and so ridiculously fast.
“Lydia!” He called through the house, standing.
Kira weighed no more than paper, and for the first time, he realized how skinny she was.
He could feel the bones in her ribs and back.
When Lydia darted into the room, he snapped, “Get Rutner.” Maxim climbed the stairs two at a time and went into Kira’s room, where he lay her down on her bed.
She still hadn’t woken, and he didn’t know if he should take her to a hospital or not. What could cause her to pass out?
Maxim paced in front of her bed, watching her. Kira never appeared so small before. Nor so weak. He thought he despised how big and bold she was, but now, without those traits, he couldn’t stand it. He wanted her to fight him. He wanted her to wake up and tell him he was a piece of shit.
One of the servants was a physician, and Rutner popped into the room with his medical bag and got to work.
Maxim watched over his shoulder as Rutner set up an IV and took her blood pressure, but the bruise on her upper arm caught his attention, and he stopped Rutner to get a better look.
It was clearly a handprint despite its fading and it could belong to no one else, but him.
Lydia and Rutner both looked away, and he grit his teeth in shame.
He backed up, letting Rutner take over. The doctor poked her finger to put her blood on a little disc that he plugged into a small handheld device. “What happened?”
“We were arguing and she just passed out.” Maxim didn’t stop moving.
He was trying to outpace the blame. Part of him pushed it on her.
If she only told the truth, they wouldn’t be fighting.
They wouldn’t be enemies. He didn’t mind her as much as she thought he did.
The first day he met her at that chaperone dinner months ago had always stayed on his mind.
She had been funny, nervous, and full of positive energy.
Marrying her wasn’t as daunting as he believed it was.
But Trina changed his perception. She reminded him how easy women can lie. That’s when he started having Kira followed, to check her history and find out what kind of woman she really was.
“Do you want me to wake her?” Rutner asked.
“She’s just sleeping?”
“I believe so. I won’t know what’s wrong till the blood work is ready.” Rutner felt along her wrists and moved to her feet, feeling along her legs.
“What are you doing?” It sounded possessive, and he chastised himself for it. Rutner was fifty years old, gay, and had been with his family for the last fifteen years. He cared for victims, keeping them alive longer if only so Lazar could get more information out of them.
“I’m worried about her weight.”
“Why? What does it mean?”
“A number of things. She can have a disease, cancer, or something like an eating disorder. Does she eat well?”
Maxim almost shrugged, but then he remembered this morning, and all she had was an egg. And he thought about dinner and how he had remarked how she hadn’t eaten a thing. He thought she was just being stubborn. “No. She doesn’t.”
“Has she been sick?”
He didn’t know the answer. He paid little attention to her, and it now hit him how much he had ignored her. Maxim just assumed she was fine because she always appeared fine. He was so sure she didn’t need him, but when had he ever given her the chance to? He pushed her away on day one.
“No,” Lydia answered. “She works very hard on the garden. Maybe she just got overheated. It is particularly hot for Russia this time of year.”
The machine beeped, and Rutner sped over to the readout. He chewed his lip as he stared at it.
“What?”
“I can’t make assumptions. I’ll need to talk to her.”
“What are you assuming?”
“Multiple things–”
Maxim almost punched him. “Rutner, give me something.”
“It’s not cancer. Her white blood count is good. It could still be some autoimmune disease. Or,” he sighed. “Does she ever throw up? Does she ever leave the table after dinner and go to the bathroom?”
Maxim tossed a hand to Lydia, and she answered, “No. But we have been concerned about how little she eats.”
Maxim grit his teeth. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I found little snacks in the bottom of her drawer and figured that was what she was doing.”
Rutner winced. “She hides food?”
Maxim twisted around. “Why? What does that mean?”
“Unless I can talk to her, I don’t want to say anything.”
Maxim grabbed the man by the shirt and pushed him up against the wall. “I am the one paying you. Tell me what is wrong with my wife!”
“It could be anorexia. All the signs are there. But it could also be an illness. Accusing someone of a disorder is not something I’d advise.
They can get very defensive. Especially if it’s something they’ve been hiding for a long time.
But I don’t know her history. This could also be because she moved into a new house, and she’s depressed. That’s why I need to talk to her.”
Maxim shoved himself away and paced the floor. He panted, more enraged that he didn’t have answers. “Wake her up.”
Rutner fixed his shirt, flexing his shoulders. “Sir, I think it would be best if I did it alone.”
“Wake her up,” Maxim repeated, stopping at the end of the bed and folding his arms across his chest. The doctor got out a small tube and opened it under her nose.
Maxim tried to clear the anger from his face.
He didn’t want her afraid, but rage was the only thing keeping him together.
He didn’t worry about people. There was no one in his life that he cared about aside from Lazar and, at one time, Trina.
He hated feeling helpless. It always brought back memories of when his parents were killed, and Lazar sat in front of him, crying his eyes out.
Kira’s nose scrunched up in disgust, and she twisted away, slapping at the foul-smelling salts. Her eyes opened next, squinting as she held her head and groaned. “What happened?” she questioned in a weak whisper.
“Mrs. Morozov, I’m Doctor Rutner. You passed out because you are severely anemic and dehydrated.”
“What?” Kira twisted her head around, noticing the wires attached to her wrist and the IV hanging from the bedpost. She found Lydia, and then she noticed Maxim at the edge of her bed.
When her eyes connected with his, she only froze for a moment before she tried to sit up to appear stronger.
Rutner put a hand on her shoulder, but she shoved it off, pulling away.
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” She reached for the IV as if to pull it out, and Rutner put his hand to stop her.
“Just for a little bit longer. Can I ask you some questions?”
Kira avoided Maxim’s gaze. She looked everywhere else but at him.
The panic was increasing with every passing second.
She had passed out before, years ago, when she didn’t know such a thing could happen.
It lasted for a couple of seconds, and no one saw.
“Sure.” She didn’t want to answer any freaking questions, but she put on a sweet smile and complied.
“Have you eaten today?”
She giggled. “Well, I was about to, but I got into a little argument. I must have just been upset. But I’m okay. Look, give me something to eat and I’ll eat right in front of you.”
“Do you have any health issues we should know about?”
Kira sighed. “No, of course not. I’m very healthy. I work out every day. This is nothing, and I’m so sorry you all were worried, but I’m fine.”
Maxim was done. “Get out.” He went to the door and held it wide open. Lydia darted through without a fight, but Rutner didn’t move.
“Sir, I advise you–”
“Get out,” he ordered again, and with aggravation, the doctor grabbed his bag and moved to the door.
Rutner leaned in and whispered, “She isn’t a gangster, Max. Interrogation methods aren’t going to work.”
Maxim closed the door, but didn’t move. He stared at the ground if only to push down the venom in his voice. “Why are you still lying?”
Kira scoffed, slapping the blanket. “I’m not.”
His brows knit. Over the past few days, he had gotten used to the sound of her voice.
The diction, the tone, and the volume never changed, even when she was upset.
But this, the sound of it now, was full of desperation, and it was unlike anything he had ever heard.
It could mean she was, in fact, lying. And if this new sound was the sound of a liar, then what had she been doing up till this point?
She couldn’t have possibly told the truth. She’s just panicked. That’s the reason it sounds different.
Kira swallowed harshly. She was nearly panting, sitting here, staring at him, begging him to believe her.
A fast list rotated in her head as she thought of every excuse she’s used over the last ten years.
Maxim was new to this and didn’t know her history; she should be able to say anything and get away with it.
As long as he didn’t talk to anyone in her family and connect the dots, but why would he? He didn’t care.
He won’t find out.
Kira pushed herself into a sitting position, determined to look stronger.
The IV did help, and she felt amazing for the first time in a long time.
She felt well-rested and clear-headed. There was never a time she was able to use IV treatment without someone knowing, but she could get used to this.
All the benefits of not eating without the fallout.
“I apologize,” she began, trying to gain some control over this situation. “I didn’t mean to be an inconvenience.”
He chuckled, more dejected than mirthful. “All you are to me, Morozov, is an inconvenience.”
She sighed. “That’s great to know. I’m fine now. I thought you were leaving.”
Maxim leaned back against the wall. “I am not your father. I am not your siblings. And though I am not even your friend, I am your husband. So are you ready to be honest with me?”
“I have–”
“Are you ready to be honest?”
Kira clenched the blanket and swallowed. She nodded once.
“Do you have an eating disorder?”
The words were ice water poured on her head. “What? No–”
Maxim smashed a fist into the door. “Stop lying!”
She bowed her head and swallowed. “I just have trouble with my weight. It’s not a big deal.”
He stared at her for a long moment, making her fidget under his gaze. “No one knows, do they?”
She cackled, rubbing a stupid tear off her cheek as she looked up. “There’s nothing to know. Please don’t make a big deal about this. It was an accident–”
“Here I am expecting honesty, but how can you be honest with me when you are lying to yourself?”
“I’m not lying!”
Maxim came to the end of her bed and sat with his back to her. He rubbed his palms together, going over the last few times with her, pinpointing all her lies, and trying to sift through to the truth. He shook his head. “Fifty pounds in three months.” He held his head in his hands.
Kira sneered. Why did he even know what?
Was he keeping track of her weight like she was?
Did it matter to him like it mattered to her?
“Can you stop acting like you care? You hate me. You’d rather I die.
So don’t sit here and judge what you don’t understand!
I mean, would you rather I were a fucking blimp?
Because that’s what I was for a long time.
Why do you think no one would marry me?”
Maxim stood and turned to her. Her speech altered. No longer full of pride and pompous diction, it was instead an immaturity he didn’t know she possessed. “Is that how you see yourself?”
She gritted her teeth. “I was nearly a hundred and seventy pounds.”
The number was normal for a woman like her, and yet all she saw was how terribly high it was.
His brows knit as he looked at her. All her lies were to protect herself.
All the changes she’d made over the last three months had been to alter her perception of what she thought he wanted.
It was a secret she kept about herself for years.
Perhaps no one cared enough to look. Everyone was too busy with their own lives to pay attention to the last Morozov daughter.
And to hide this imperfection, she was perfect in everything else. He was more impressed by her than he thought he would be. She was incredibly strong. But she didn’t need to be. Not anymore.
For once, Maxim felt useful to her.
Kira rubbed the wetness from her cheek. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m not a pity case. You don’t want me anyway. You think I’m ugly just like everyone else.”
There was more delusion. How could she have such a warped sense of self?
“Morozov,” he sighed. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. But so were you three months ago.”
“Now who’s lying? Can you go? I don’t want you here.”
“I’ll go.” Maxim headed for the door. “But I’ve canceled my trip. I have things to take care of here.” He shut the door before she could protest.