Chapter 6 #2
On the way outside, I holler to Ilya and Andrei, letting them know what’s going on.
Ruslan comes running up to us, tail wagging and big paws prancing around because he’s unable to keep still.
Nina pats his head and follows him down the path to the stretch of private beach in front of us.
Ilya, Andrei, and I work to pile logs and create a base for the bonfire.
As soon as we light it up, Svetlana comes running down to join us, carrying a basket filled with god knows what.
She sets it down and walks over to stand near Andrei while the logs catch and the flames start to grow.
When it really starts blazing, I hook an arm around Nina’s waist and gently pull her back a bit.
She stares at the flames, her dark hair whipping around in the strong breeze, looking so damn beautiful that I can’t tear my eyes from her.
I wish she could see what I see. I know she sees herself as weak and broken, but she’s wrong.
There’s nothing weak about her, and she may be broken, but she won’t be for long.
Pulling her closer to me so the others on the other side of the bonfire can’t see us, I hand her one of the pieces of clothing from the bag.
Her fingers automatically clench around the shirt as she looks up at me in confusion.
I look to the fire and then give her a wink.
A small smile pulls at the corner of her mouth before she throws the shirt into the flames.
I watch the light dance across her face as she watches it burn and then reaches for another piece.
One by one, she tosses the clothing into the bonfire until only the black dress remains.
She clutches the soft fabric tightly, her dark eyes filled with a pain so deep it’s painful to witness, but then she lets go, throwing it in and letting the flames engulf it, turning it to nothing but ash.
She doesn’t speak for several minutes, just watches the clothing disappear as the logs crackle and the waves crash violently behind us. When she’s satisfied, she looks up at me and says, “Thank you, Vasily.”
“You’re welcome, zolotse.”
It’s hard to tell by the firelight, but I swear she blushes at the term of endearment.
There’s something so sweet about her, innocent even, and the fact that Ruby wasn’t able to destroy that part of her is a goddamn miracle.
The sound of laughter has me pulling my eyes from hers.
We walk around the fire and when I see a vodka bottle being passed from Svetlana to Andrei, the mystery of what was in that basket she brought down is solved.
Ilya smiles and holds a bottle out to me, but before I can grab it, Nina takes it and brings it to her mouth.
I watch her take a healthy swallow and then hold back a laugh when she starts to cough.
“Easy,” I tell her, grabbing the bottle and patting her back softly. As soon as she’s calmed down, she reaches for the vodka again. When I don’t hand it over, she grabs my arm, not realizing it’s the exact spot where her name is inked onto my skin.
“Please, Vasily. I just want to forget, just for a little bit.”
I hand the bottle back to her, knowing it’s not a wise decision but unable to deny her a few hours of relief.
She winces when the alcohol hits her lip, but keeps going.
She doesn’t cough as much this time, and I recognize the determined look on her face.
She’s going to get shit-faced, and I’m guessing she’ll regret it in the morning.
“Someone’s on a mission,” Ilya says in Russian, coming to stand beside me and eyeing the way Nina is attacking the bottle.
“I guess I know what I’ll be doing tonight.”
He laughs and hands me a package of hotdogs and a couple of roasting sticks. “At least get some food into her. Maybe that’ll help.”
I thank him and start spearing hot dogs.
Nina takes the stick I hand her, but she doesn’t let go of the vodka.
She cradles it against her chest while holding her stick out to the flames.
I stand next to her and do the same. When I look down at her, I notice that her eyes are already looking a little glassy and she’s already swaying a bit.
I’m guessing she rarely drinks, if ever, and this is about to hit her hard.
Grabbing the package of buns from the basket Svetlana brought, I help Nina get hers off the stick so she doesn’t burn herself and then hold them both out to her.
“Eat both of these.”
“Do you have mustard?” she asks and then gives a soft giggle.
I can’t help but smile at the sound of it as I dig around in the basket and then hand her the yellow bottle. She drenches her hot dogs in it and then takes as large of a bite as her split lip will allow.
“That’s really good,” she says around her mouthful.
I smile and tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ear to keep it out of her way as she mauls the hot dog.
I fix my own and make quick work of them.
When she slips a piece of hot dog to Ruslan, I pretend not to notice, even though stealthy is the last word I’d use to describe it, especially with the loud laugh she gives when he licks her fingers.
After she’s eaten, she surprises me by grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the ocean. “Come on, Vasily,” she says, taking another swig of vodka. “Let’s get our feet wet.”
When she stops to kick off her shoes, I do the same. She struggles to roll her jeans up, nearly falling over in the process, so I grab onto her to steady her before kneeling down to help her out.
“You’re not at all how I thought you’d be,” she says, and I can tell by the sound of her voice that she’s well past buzzed and creeping into fully intoxicated.
I look up at her, smiling when she puts one hand on my shoulder for support, the other one still tightly clutching her bottle of vodka. “Oh yeah? How did you think I’d be, zolotse?”
She giggles, and it’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. “I like it when you call me that.” Releasing my shoulder, she runs a hand through my hair. She seems as surprised by it as I am and quickly stops. “I didn’t expect you to be so nice.”
I laugh and roll my own jeans up. “Nice isn’t a word that’s usually used to describe me.”
Her dark eyes study me before she weaves her fingers through my hair again. “You have the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you,” I say, trying not to laugh at her drunken show of affection. “Your eyes are beautiful, too.”
Her brow scrunches at my compliment like she doesn’t believe it while she studies me some more. “You’re gorgeous, Vasily,” she says, and her voice sounds so sad all of a sudden. She lets out a deep sigh and then drops her hand and looks out at the ocean. “I want to get closer.”
Standing, I hold her hand and walk with her to the water.
She lets out a squeal when a wave crashes to shore, soaking her feet and calves with cool water.
Digging her toes into the sand, she looks out at the dark ocean, laughing when Ruslan starts running up and down the beach.
It’s too dark to see anything clearly, but the bonfire puts off enough light to hint at the vastness before us.
It’s so peaceful here, such a change from loud, busy, downtown Moscow.
“Can I call you Vasya like your men do?”
She takes another drink and then sways a bit, smiling when I say, “Of course.”
When she tips the bottle up again, I grab onto it and gently pull it away. The angry look she gives me makes me laugh, but I don’t give it back.
“You’re going to regret drinking so much.”
“I don’t think I will.” She juts her chin out stubbornly and sways even more, tilting her head up to look at me. “How tall are you anyway? You’re like a freaking giant.”
“I’m six-four.”
“Damn,” she says, stretching the word out and making me laugh. “I’m only five-two, so that means you’re like,” she stops and holds up one hand, trying desperately to do the math before realizing it’s not going to happen and finally saying, “a lot of inches taller than me.”
Seeing Nina drunk gives me a glimpse of who she is beneath all the pain she’s been through.
I like it, and it gives me hope that one day she’ll be like this again without needing a bottle of vodka to help coax it out.
Watching her, I see the exact moment when she goes from everything feels great to oh my god I’m going to be sick in just a few minutes.
“Come on, zolotse.” I pick her up and she quickly wraps her arms and legs around me, grabbing the bottle as I carry her back to the bonfire. “Give the vodka to Ilya,” I tell her when he walks over to meet us.
He takes it and pats her back. “Too much vodka, Nina? You’re a Medvedev now. You need to work on your tolerance.”
“I don’t think I’m going to drink again for a while,” she moans. “Things are starting to spin, Vasya.”
“Don’t close your eyes,” Ilya warns her. Raising his voice, he laughs and says in Russian, “She’s a lightweight like Andrei. He’s a little bitch when it comes to alcohol.”
Andrei steps away from Svetlana. “I’m a little bitch?”
“You better run,” I tell Ilya, laughing when he drops the bottle and takes off.
Andrei catches up to him and throws him over his shoulder before tossing him into the ocean.
Ilya’s laughing when his head eventually breaks the surface.
Svetlana and Ruslan join them and soon they’re all in the water, splashing around and having fun.
I’m not the only one who’s enjoying our new location.
“Put the fire out when you’re done,” I holler back at them. “I’m taking her inside.”
They wave to let me know they heard, and when I turn back around to carry her to the house, she lets out a pained moan. I pat her back and kiss the side of her head.
“I think I made a big mistake, Vasya,” she whispers.
“It’s a mistake we’ve all made before. It’s okay, zolotse. I’ll take care of you.”