29. Lila
Lila
It’s been three days since Haylie called Cinder from a gas station payphone in Tucson to say she was fine and headed home to her mom in Arizona.
I’m glad she’s okay. I’m glad she got out. I know Maksim is both happy and disappointed. He’s worried she might fall into old habits in an unsafe environment.
Ava is stretched out on the other end of the sectional, with her legs tucked under her and a medical textbook the size of a cinder block balanced on her knees.
She’s been here almost every day this week, under the premise of cramming for a microbiology exam.
I don’t know if Maksim asked her to come, or if she just started showing up on her own.
Either way, I’m not complaining. Having her here makes me feel like I have a friend.
I haven’t left the house since the night at the club.
I don’t want to stress Maksim out. He’s trying to take care of me.
I still get an itchy feeling when I accept his rules.
My inner rebel screams at me, but I understand safety.
I just have to remind myself of the mall.
Or what happened to my mother. Or the time I was almost snatched off the street.
I renew my silent vow to stop fighting him as much as my pride allows.
She marks her page with her finger and looks at me over the top of the book. “You’ve been in a weird mood all morning. What is it?”
“I’m not in a weird mood.”
“Lila.”
I sigh. “I’m fine. I’m good, and I think that’s what’s weird. I feel almost normal, and I don’t know what to do with that.”
She tilts her head. “Normal is bad?”
“Normal is suspicious,” I say. “In my experience, normal is just the quiet before something explodes. And in my life, there’s always an explosion. Nothing stays good for long.”
Ava sets the book down. “Or normal is just normal. Maybe things are okay. You’ve made it through the storm, and now you get to enjoy the sunshine.”
“He’s been different the past few days,” I say. “He came home for dinner twice.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Yes, but it makes me nervous.”
“I understand that. It took me a long time to get my nervous system to relax after living on the streets and going through what I did in the system. I was in survival mode. I still get anxious, but I’m learning to settle. Give yourself some time. Don’t push it.”
That makes a lot of sense. “How long do you think it took you?” I ask.
“A year, maybe more. You deserve this. You have to tell yourself that a lot before you’ll believe it.”
“I want to believe it’s over, but I don’t think it is. Not with these guys still threatening me and going after Maksim’s businesses. You guys. I guess I feel like the storm hasn’t even started yet.”
“Trust Maksim,” she says. “Seriously. He’s powerful. And he’s crazy about you. Trust that.”
“I’m trying.”
“Good. Give yourself time.”
She picks up her book again. I know I have a lot to get through. I hope I can be normal one day, whatever that might look like.
“Can I ask you something?” I say.
“Always.”
“Do you like it? School, I mean.”
She smiles. “Yes. I really do.” She taps the cover of the textbook. “This stuff is hard, and there are days I want to throw this book into the ocean. But yeah. I like it.” She pauses. “What about you? Did you graduate high school?”
“Barely.”
“Have you thought about college?”
“It wasn’t in the conversation when I was growing up.”
“Why not?”
“My mom didn’t care if I even went to high school.
She said it didn’t matter. My diploma isn’t even in my real name.
I had to work and didn’t get the best grades.
That wasn’t a priority. It was more surviving today and worrying about tomorrow when it came.
” I look at my hands. “School was a thing I only did because I had to, until I didn’t have to anymore. After that, the horses were enough.”
“I think you’re really smart.”
I laugh. “Not really.”
“I’m just saying.” She sets the book aside again. “You pick things up fast. You’re observant. You read people well.” She gives me a look. “You figured out Cinder in about forty-eight hours.”
“That wasn’t hard.”
“It took me six months,” she says. “And I lived with her.”
I almost smile. “She’s obvious.”
“Have you ever thought about what you’d want to do? If things were different. If you had the option.”
“Not really.”
“Ah, but something.”
I have thought about it. Not with any hope that it would happen.
“Horses,” I say. “Something with horses.”
“Like what? Training? Breeding?”
“Veterinary.” The word comes out quieter than I intend. “Large animal. I always wanted to know more about what was happening with them. When one of Mr. Hadley’s mares got sick one summer, the vet came out, and I followed him around and asked a million questions. I’d love to know more.”
“Do it. Tell Maksim. He’s all about education. He would absolutely pay to send you. He paid for me until I started making real money and insisted on paying my way.”
“I can’t ask him to do that.”
“Girl, he’s your husband. You can and should.”
I consider that. I am his wife, and I can’t just laze around for the rest of my days.
“I’ll talk to him,” I say.
That evening, I smile when I hear Maksim’s voice.
He’s home. It’s becoming our thing. He comes home to have dinner with me before he heads to the club. I appreciate that he takes the time out of his busy schedule to be with me.
I sit across from him. One of the kitchen staff sets a plate in front of me. I’ve stopped being uncomfortable with that. It’s part of the way things work here. He has staff. I cook sometimes, but I don’t want to take a job from someone else.
“How’s Ember?” he asks.
I can’t stop the smile. “She’s amazing.”
Ember is the foal. The name came to me while I was cleaning out Willow’s stall. It fits, given what happened before her birth.
“Ava was here today,” I say.
“I know.”
Of course, he knows.
I push a piece of roasted potato around my plate and try to figure out how to say what I want to say. I’ve been practicing it in my head since this afternoon, but now I’ve lost my courage.
“I want to do something with horses.” I meet his eyes. “Large animal veterinary. I looked it up this afternoon. There’s a pre-vet program at the University of Miami. I could even take my gen ed classes at a community college to get my GPA up .”
He’s quiet. His expression doesn’t give me much. I’m suddenly not hungry.
“I know it’s a lot,” I say. “I know my high school grades weren’t great, but I’d like to try.” I hear my hesitation. I wanted to sound confident, but I don’t feel it.
He puts down his fork. The silence stretches out long enough that my stomach starts to sink.
“You don’t want me to,” I say.
“That’s not what I said.”
“You haven’t said anything.”
“I’m thinking.”
“Thinking about what? Never mind. Forget I said anything." I push back from the table, self-conscious. "It was a stupid idea."
“Lila,” he says softly. “Stop.”
I won’t cry, but dammit, I want to.
He leans forward and looks me in the eyes. “I think it’s a good idea. A very good idea. You’d be exceptional at it. I’d love to help you achieve that dream.”
“Then why the face?”
He exhales slowly. “Because I want to say yes right now, and I can’t.
Not safely.” He holds my gaze. “The situation with the Albanians isn’t resolved.
It’s quieter than it was, but quiet isn’t over.
Putting you on a college campus with thousands of people I can’t vet, in buildings I can’t secure, is a big risk. ”
I feel the disappointment settle over me. Why am I asking? I’m an adult. I don’t have to ask anyone to do anything. He’s my husband, not my keeper. I should be able to choose my own risks. It’s me who’ll suffer if something happens.
“Lila.”
I don’t bother to hide my irritation. “What?”
“It’s too risky.”
I roll my eyes. “Do you think there will ever not be a risk? It doesn’t have to be the Albanians.
There will always be risks. I could get hit by a car crossing the street.
A meteor could drop out of the sky while I’m in your bed.
I have survived for nineteen years with people trying to kill me.
Horses that are a lot bigger than men have tried to take me out.
Assholes in school. Bitches that didn’t like the way I looked at them. I’m not afraid of risk.”
“I am.”
He says it so softly that it makes me stop. He’s not yelling. I stare into his eyes, and that’s when I see it. He’s the one who’s scared.
“I’m not saying no,” he says. “I’m saying not yet.”
I really want to argue, but I see the logic. I hate that I see it, but he has a point. That pisses me off, too.
“How long?” I ask.
“Let me handle this business first. When I know you’re not a target, I will personally drive you to the admissions office. I’ll carry your backpack if you want. I’ll sit in the parking lot and wait.”
He reaches over and takes my hand.
I look at the black diamond on my finger. My brand. A sign of who I belong to. It doesn’t feel like a shackle or being chained to him.
He’s keeping me alive. He’s only looked out for me. I have to believe him.
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay?”
“I can wait.”
I stand up, lean across the table, and give him a kiss.
“Keep looking into it,” he says. “I promise, as soon as things are cleared up, we’ll enroll you.”
“Okay.”
We finish dinner. I see him check his watch. “I’d like to stay in tonight, but things are tense right now. I need to be close.”
“I understand. I’ll see you when you get home.”
I walk him to the door and give him another kiss.
He catches my jaw before I can pull back, holding me there for an extra second. He brushes his thumb across my cheekbone.
“Don’t wait up,” he says.
“I will anyway.”
“I know, and I love that you do.”
He lets me go. I wave goodbye and head back inside. I reach for the picture in my back pocket. I look at my mom’s face.
I’m going to do it, Mom. I’m going to go to college. I’m going to live.