Chapter 41 Fractured Memories
Fractured Memories
Anika
Her body felt wrong.
Her skin was too tight and her bones brittle.
Every muscle she could feel was bruised—torn and tattered.
Her lashes fluttered against her cheek as she futilely tried to open her eyes.
It was as if she was there, but her body couldn’t keep up with brain’s commands.
She was a prisoner in her own skin, the sack of meat preventing her from waking up.
From fighting whatever this feeling was off.
Flashes of light and warmth scattered across her battered skin, and she assumed daylight was streaming in.
Pain radiated in her skull making the flashes of light excruciating even if the warmth was welcomed.
A tentative swallow proved difficult, her tongue dry and her throat sore.
If her muscles could cooperate, a cough would’ve spewed from her lips, but she was too tired.
Oh, so tired…
The steady thrum of a car moving beneath her aching head lulled her back to sleep, distracting her from the haze in her mind and the throbbing in her arm.
* * *
“I HEARD MR. Alek Romanov is interested in our store,” her father, Khalid, informed before planting a soft kiss on her mother’s cheek.
She huffed, her head tilting toward him to receive his affection. “Oh, and what is it he’s interested in?” Excitement lined her words, Anika’s sharp ears picking up on it even as she pretended to be engrossed in her homework. Her parents talked more that way.
“Nothing that I believe in.”
Ira smacked her husband’s arm as he strode past, making his way to Anika. “How pessimistic of you, at least tell me you listened to what he had to say?”
“I would’ve if it had been him who’d come to talk to me,” her father called over his shoulder before mumbling a, “good evening, my dear,” into the hair atop Anika’s head. She smiled up at him in response before turning her attention back to her studies.
“What do you mean?” her mother questioned, hands busy with the last remaining steps of dinner prep.
Setting his items down on the table, he returned to his wife, his tone lowering. “I mean, he’s interested, but not enough to come talk to me in person himself. He sent some”—her father’s hand flourished in the air—“new guy instead.”
“Well, still, that’s not a bad sign, right?”
Anika pressed her lips together. Her mom always had a way of seeing the good in others, even if they were rotten to the core.
It was what made her into the woman she was today, but it also made Anika and her father roll their eyes.
While she was the kind-hearted giver of the family, Anika and her father kept people at arm’s length until they passed a series of…
tests. It wasn’t anything personal, just a logical approach when it came to making acquaintances.
It was what made her father so successful in his business—he only trusted those who’d won it over.
Anika saw the way people respected her father and wanted that for herself.
Besides, there had been many times she’d overheard her parent’s speaking in hushed tones, her mother’s kindness always resulting in her feelings getting hurt.
“I didn’t say it was a bad sign, just that we shouldn’t get our hopes up.”
* * *
THE SECOND TIME she awoke, her head felt slightly better, but ached nonetheless.
She tried to open her eyes again, anxiety rushing through her blood at the idea of her vulnerability, but nothing.
Even though her mind was awake, the rest of her body wasn’t.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move a single extremity.
But she did notice another subtle difference.
This time, there was no car humming beneath her, only a steady warmth surrounding her and a hint of a man’s cologne.
Levi?
Again, Anika tried to remember the last moments of her evening with him, but nothing came to the surface of her mind other than the last drink she’d poured for him. Sleepiness pulled at her restless mind, slowly chipping away at her resolve.
Or maybe it was the pleasant feel of strong arms around her.
She was being carried, a fact that should worry her, but after all this time, it felt good. She’d fought off the scum of the earth for long enough—denied herself happiness.
One little moment wouldn’t hurt…
Even the wounds afflicting her previously were now muffled as if she was wrapped in cotton. Drowsiness took hold of her. It erased the caution usually living within her heart. Now, all she cared about was sleep and how it relentlessly called her name.
Anika, it crooned, give in to me.
So, she succumbed.
* * *
DESPITE HER FATHER’S reservations, Mr. Romanov had been persistent.
Anika had accompanied her father to the store, content to be in his presence while he restocked items during a slow period of the day. All had been quiet, the two of them chattering—Anika perched on empty crates while her father knelt nearby—about nonsense until it was interrupted.
The bell above the door dinged cheerily.
“Wait here, dear,” her father said with a grunt as he pushed himself back up. He walked toward the front of the store to help whatever customer awaited while Anika stayed put. For now.
Shortly after, she heard his voice drifting through the shelves, but the words were indiscernible from this distance.
It lasted for longer than she expected, the words fast and jovial.
Mostly. Although something about the reserved tone in her dad’s voice had her soundlessly slipping from the crates.
The soles of her shoes were soft rubber which silenced her steps as Anika snuck closer in hopes of catching the conversation taking up more time than a typical transaction.
“—understand your hesitation, but this could benefit the whole community,” an unknown male voice said, his words accented and filled with persuasion. Anika’s brow raised.
“In theory, yes, it’s good for the neighborhood, but I don’t want to sell.” Her dad’s voice was strong, his ever defiant attitude shining through.
“Well, this is the best offer you’ll get I’m afraid.”
“I know, and I’m still turning you down.”
Anika stalked closer, a sliver of her face peeking out around the shelf.
“Please,” the unknown man said, his side profile visible to Anika now, “I want to help you out.”
His pressed suit and glinting gold watch spoke volumes. Anika’s stomach clenched with apprehension. Dark hair was combed back stylishly from his face, the temples peppered with gray. He was mostly likely around her father’s age, but had lived a much different lifestyle. Harsher.
The man’s prominent nose and jaw caught her attention, his features brutal and unforgiving. In that moment, she had a feeling his temperament was as menacing as his face even though his words were coated in sticky honey.
Her dad spoke again, “This store is my livelihood, you can help me, and the community, out by purchasing an item from it.”
The corners of the man’s mouth tipped up, a game of who would give first ensuing. “Of course.” Grabbing the closest item—a magazine with a man’s portrait printed on it—he placed it on the counter for her father to ring up.
Tensions grew thick in the air, and Anika’s heart pounded.
After a couple quiet seconds, the man took his purchase and nodded to her father. “I’ll see you around, sir.”
In response her dad plastered a smile across his face, the gesture genuine to an outsider, but Anika knew. She knew what it felt like to don a mask to keep others outside of her aching heart. She’d learned it from him, of course.
As the bell chimed again, she moved. Her father’s attention snapped to her. His smile faded and his eyes shifted. “Never trust men in suits, Anika.” She nodded. “Especially when they promise you the world.”
Now, in her closeness, the magazine the man had bought was one professing about the man’s business success and real estate endeavors. His dark hair, defined nose, and sharp jaw all fell into place.
Alek Romanov.
The man who’d offered to buy her dad’s store was Alek Romanov, and he hardly ever took no for an answer.
* * *
ANIKA AWOKE, UNSURE of how much time had passed since her last bout of consciousness, but her body felt like it’d been stuffed with lead, weighing down any effort she made to get up.
But she could feel she’d been laid upon something soft, its cushiony shape molding to her body.
And she could feel the brush of a soft blanket.
The promise of her senses coming back excited Anika, and she pushed their limits.
With slow movements—ones exhausting her mind—she sent signals to her fingertips and toes, willing them to move. Even if it was just a fraction.
Nothing.
Nothing but darkness ensconced her, and she let it.
* * *
DROPPING HER BOOK bag onto the floor next to the dining room chair she usually did her homework in, Anika realized the table was set. For four.
“Mom?” she called out, the smell of food cooking on the stove permeating the air, but her mom was nowhere to be found.
“Coming dear,” drifted down the hall followed by her mom’s frame whisking into the kitchen. An apron still adorned her front—if only to protect nicer clothes underneath—her hair pulled back into a tight, low bun.
“What’s going on?” Anika pointed to the table.
“Oh, I meant to mention, your father and I are having a guest over for dinner.”
“We are?” Both Anika and her father spoke at the same time. His face was unreadable as he entered the kitchen, home from work.
Looking back and forth from both her daughter and husband, she nodded. “Yes, a kind gentleman I spoke to over the phone said it’d be better.”
“What gentleman?” Her father’s voice was gentle, but Anika detected the underlying edge beneath it.
“Mr. Romanov.”
Anika’s teeth clenched, but her dad spoke the words she was thinking. “Love, there is no need for that man to come to this house. We already talked at the store, we don’t need his money.”