Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
KIRILL
I wake up before she does, my arm trapped beneath her while her head rests against my bicep. Her lips are parted, face at ease, and I just watch her. I almost don’t want to wake her.
Carefully, I try to slide out from under her, but she lets out a small groan and burrows closer instead, pressing into my chest.
A smile appears on my face, followed by the type of peace I have never known except right here in her arms.
Blyat. There’s no saving me now.
I kiss the top of her head and pull her tighter, my arm settling around her waist again as I let myself accept the truth of it: this is exactly where she belongs. I’ll have her things moved into my bedroom today.
My gaze drifts over her face again and I try to push the other thoughts away, the ones that have been clawing at the back of my mind since yesterday. The lies she’s still telling. The man she met behind my back.
I force myself to focus on what I do know. She cares for me. She cares for Lev. That much I’m certain of, and that should matter more than anything else.
But the jealousy still coils in my chest, sharp and possessive, demanding answers.
Whoever that bastard is…I will find out.
No matter what it takes.
SLOANE
When I get up, he's already gone, the warmth he left behind replaced by a cold shadow. I reach over to my phone, checking for any missed calls, but only see one message from Mandy, asking if Kirill and I have banged yet. With a laugh, I quickly reply.
Sloane
In fact, we have. Last night. And it was everything.
Mandy
YES!!!!! My girl got the D! Finally.
Sloane
Shut up.
Mandy
I can’t help it. It’s like I’ve been waiting forever for this moment. You can’t see me, but I’m totally tearing up with pride right now.
Sloane
OMG you’re such an idiot LOL.
Mandy
LOL. In all seriousness, you deserve to be happy, and I hope he gives you that.
Sloane
Me too…
I stare at the screen, wanting to tell her everything.
Well…not everything.
But at least the truth about my sister. About Milo. About why my life has always been so much messier than I let people believe.
Would she be angry that I kept all of that from her? Maybe. I don’t know. But right now, the need to tell someone is bigger than the fear of how she’ll take it.
Sloane
Can I tell you something? But promise not to get upset with me. Please…
Mandy
What could you possibly say that would make me upset? I mean, I would kill you if you fucked Jace, but other than that, we’re good. LOL.
Sloane
Well…there’s stuff about me and my past that I never told you. I haven’t told anyone, but I just, I don’t know…need to get it out.
Mandy
You can always tell me anything. Hell, I’d bail you out if you offed someone.
Even so, I’m definitely not telling her about Mom, especially over text. I’m not that stupid.
Sloane
I’ve been homeless for a few weeks now. My sister kicked me out after we had a fight.
The three dots pop up, disappear, then come back again, dragging my nerves tighter with every second.
Mandy
I know…
My whole body goes still.
What?
My heart kicks harder as a hundred questions hit me all at once.
Sloane
What do you mean? How?
Mandy
Well, I didn’t know the details, but I saw you sleeping in your car once. I didn’t want to say anything and make you feel worse. That’s why I kept inviting you over. I just didn’t want you out there alone. I was scared for you, Sloane, but I didn’t want to push too hard and make you shut me out.
Tears slip down my cheeks, and I wipe at them quickly, my vision clouding.
Mandy
But what would make her kick you out? She has no right to do that!
Sloane
I had a drinking problem when I was a teenager, and during one blackout, I did something bad. Something I don’t want to talk about. She’s held it over my head ever since, and when she thought I was drinking again, even though I wasn’t, she threw me out.
Mandy
That bitch!
Sloane
That’s not all…
I pause before typing anything else, knowing that once I say it, she’ll see a part of me no one here knows. I just hope she doesn’t start looking at me differently after this—or worse, think I never trusted her at all.
Sloane
When I was seventeen, I had a baby. His name is Milo and she has him. She says I can’t get him back until I have my own place, and clearly, I don’t.
A response doesn’t come, and I think that’s it, she hates me.
Until my phone dings again.
Mandy
She took him from you? Oh, hell no. We’re going to get him back.
I blink back the tears, a smile etching. I never should’ve doubted her.
Sloane
Trust me, I’ve tried. She hates me.
Mandy
Why don’t you ask Kirill for help? I bet he would.
Sloane
I really don't want to get him involved unless I have to. Just promise me you won't say anything.
Mandy
Of course not, but you shouldn't have to do all of this alone, babe. You have people who care about you. Let us help.
I grip the phone against my chest, grateful that I have her.
Sloane
I love you, Mandy. I don’t say that enough, but I do.
Mandy
Shh, stop making me cry ova here. I love you too. You’re like a sister to me.
Sloane
Now I’m the one who’s crying. Sheesh. Okay, let me go down for breakfast before Kirill thinks I’m slipping on my nanny duties.
Mandy
Okay, but look, I would call that bitch and tell her you have a good job and a place to live now, and that you want your son back. Any court would side with you. She has no evidence of you drinking, right?
Sloane
No. She smelled it on me that night we had that work party and she thinks I was the one drinking.
Mandy
Oh my God, I remember that. Well, I’ll be your witness if you ever need me.
Sloane
Thank you. I’ll call you later.
Mandy
All right, tell my brother-in-law I said hi.
It takes me a moment to realize she meant Kirill.
Sloane
We’re not getting married!
Mandy
Not yet, you’re not.
Shaking my head, I slide out of bed, every muscle in my body aching after what Kirill and I did last night. Slipping into a loose T-shirt and lounge pants, I start toward the door when a thought stops me.
Maybe Mandy is right. If I tell my sister that I have a place and a job, I don’t see why she wouldn’t let me take Milo. He’d have his own room. Stability. A backyard. Lev and Kirill. He’d be happy here.
Hope creeps in before I can shut it down.
I grab my phone and call her.
She answers quickly. “What?”
Hello to you too…
“Hey…I wanted to talk to you about Milo.”
She snickers. “Oh, yeah? What about him?”
“So, I…uh…I started a new job as a nanny and I have a place now.” I pace across the bedroom, my heart hammering. “It’s a big house with plenty of space and—”
“Wait, you’re living with some rando? Who is it?”
Shit. “Well, he’s a businessman who works a lot, and he’s a single dad, so he needs help with his—”
She laughs briskly. “I’m not letting you bring my nephew to some stranger’s house. Someone you’re probably screwing for money and lying about it.”
My chest squeezes. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, please.” She lets out a sharp breath. “I know you. I know what kind of person you are. I know the kind of scum you used to hang out with.”
I’m so sick of her shit.
“That was years ago. How many times do I need to tell you I’m not that person anymore?”
“You’re a killer, Sloane. You can dress it up however you want, but it doesn’t change what you did.”
My fingers curl tighter around the phone. “Stop it.”
“Milo would be better off without you,” she cuts in coldly. “And deep down, you know that.”
The words slice clean through me.
“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not that person?” My words crack, despite everything I do to control it. “I’ve changed. I’m trying. He’s my son, God damn it!”
“That’s wonderful for you, but it doesn’t erase what you’re capable of,” she says flatly. “You can’t just decide you’re different now.”
“I would never hurt my baby.”
“You already hurt enough people.”
Silence stretches, heavy and suffocating.
“This isn’t up to you. He’s my kid.”
“So go to court, then,” she huffs. “I’m not letting him go live in some stranger’s house.”
“You don’t know him.”
Desperation clings to me, the need for her to see me for once in my goddamn life.
“I know you,” she fires back. “And that’s enough.”
My throat burns.
“Please,” I try, hating how small I sound. “Just let me take him for a few days. Let me prove to you—”
“No.” The finality in that one word makes the room spin. “And stop calling me about this. I’m done having this conversation.”
“Just—”
The line goes dead before I can finish. I stare at the phone in my hand, my reflection warped in the dark screen, her words splintering in my head.
You’re a killer. Milo would be better off without you.
My knees go weak as I lower the phone, and I have to press a hand to the wall just to stay upright.
Because no matter how many times I tell myself she’s wrong…
A part of me still hears the water and knows she’s right.