Chapter 22
Sitka
After getting the text from Damien, I let out a relieved breath and look over at my mom. “He’s alive. That’s got to be a good sign, right?”
“A very good sign,” she agrees, turning her head to kiss my temple. She sees my phone’s screen before I can pocket it and asks, “Why does he just use emojis and voice messages?”
I quickly turn my phone over, not sure what to say. I know Damien doesn’t like people to know, but I also know my mom would feel terrible if she ever did anything that ended up embarrassing him. Plus, he’s about to be her son-in-law. It’s not like I’m telling a stranger.
“He’s dyslexic,” I say, deciding to just come out with it. “He didn’t want to tell me. He’s embarrassed by it, but I told him that’s ridiculous.”
“It has nothing to do with intelligence,” my mom says, making me smile.
“That’s what I said.”
“I had no idea.” Her fingers keep brushing through my hair while she says, “He hides it very well.”
“I think he’s been hiding it his whole life,” I say, and I’m hit with a rush of sympathy for him because that must’ve been so hard to do when he was little.
My mom kisses my head again and says, “Well, he doesn’t have to hide it anymore.” Standing up, she holds out her hand to me. “Come on. I’m too antsy to keep sitting here. If Damien is texting, then I bet you anything your dad and brothers are on their way here.”
Taking her hand, I get up and follow her into the kitchen. She disappears into the pantry and comes out with her arms full of supplies that I immediately recognize as a staple from childhood.
“Homemade hot chocolate fixes everything,” she says, repeating the line she’d tell my brothers and me when one or all three of us would be upset about something.
She’d sit us at the counter and make a huge batch of hot chocolate, letting us put in extra marshmallows and chocolate sprinkles until we couldn’t even remember what we were so upset about.
I smile and grab the cutting board and a sharp knife so I can help her dice the chocolate while she heats up the milk.
“We’re definitely going to need extra marshmallows tonight,” I tell her.
“And maybe I’ll add some vodka to your dad’s.”
“Not a bad idea,” I say. “Might want to do the same for Yuri and Misha.”
“Well, let’s hope they’re in a much calmer mood by the time they get here.”
I stop to give her a quick hug. I may not be super affectionate, and I know I don’t tell her how amazing she is often enough, but I know how lucky I am to have her, and when I tell her that, she squeezes me tighter and says, “I’m the lucky one.”
Before either one of us can get too emotional, she kisses my cheek and grabs a hunk of chocolate from the cutting board before popping it into her mouth. It’s not a bad idea, so I do the same before getting back to work.
When it’s ready, we get the marshmallows.
I’m almost done making the chocolate shavings to sprinkle on top when the front door opens.
My mom and I both freeze, our eyes darting to where we can hear the thud of heavy boots on the floor, and as soon as my dad turns the corner, my mom runs up and flings her arms around him.
He immediately lifts her up and holds her tightly, whispering something to her that I can’t hear.
Giving them privacy, I wait until my brothers walk in, my mouth dropping when I see Yuri’s swollen, bloody lip and the shadow of a bruise on Misha’s face.
“Did you hurt him?” I ask, stepping closer, so pissed at them I’m about to add my own marks to their faces.
Misha raises a brow at me while Yuri huffs out a disbelieving laugh and says, “You’re not even going to ask if we’re okay?”
I scowl at him. “You’re obviously fine. I’m looking right at you. Did you hurt Damien?”
“No more than he hurt us,” Misha says, “and not nearly as much as we wanted to.”
“Your fiancé is fine,” Yuri says, barely managing to spit the word out. “Thanks, by the way, for letting us know about it.”
“You kept us all out of it,” my dad says.
When I look over and meet his eyes, I can’t hold the stare. Guilt has me looking down at my feet. “I’m sorry, Dad. I was going to tell you tomorrow morning, and don’t be mad at mom. I put her in a terrible spot and she was just trying to help me.”
“I could never be mad at your mom,” he says while putting my mom back on the ground. He keeps his arm firmly locked around her, though, while he looks at me. “This could’ve gone very differently tonight. You realize that, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” I look at my brothers. “They could’ve gone completely insane and done something really stupid. Oh wait…”
“Don’t be mad at them. They’re doing exactly what I expect of them. Their job is to keep you safe. They had no way of knowing how Damien truly felt about you,” our dad says.
I manage to meet his eyes when I say, “Well, I did tell them. Repeatedly.”
My dad sighs and then pats my mom’s butt when she steps around him to grab the hot chocolate so she can pour us each a mug. She’s determined to get us to calm down, and chocolate’s not the worst plan I’ve ever heard for peace.
“Sitka,” our dad says, “you’re eighteen.
It’s not beyond the realm of possibilities that some guy would come here and tell you everything you’ve ever wanted to hear while also only being after one thing.
It happens. A lot. And I don’t blame them for not immediately believing him. I was just as skeptical.”
“And now?” I ask him.
He takes the mug my mom hands him, the corner of his mouth twitching when she grabs a bottle of vodka and gives him a very generous splash of it.
He takes a drink and looks back at me. “I believe him,” he says, making me let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“He wants to marry you, and even though the little fucker didn’t ask me for my blessing,” he says, sounding a tad bitter about that, “I’ve decided to give it anyway. ”
I smile and run over to give him a hug. I hear Yuri mutter from behind me, “He gets a hug. We get a pissed-off look and shitty attitude.”
“I love you, Sitka,” he says, wrapping me in a tight hug. “Don’t ever lie to me again, though. You broke my fucking heart, honey.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.” I don’t even bother to hide my tears while my dad kisses my head and lets me cry all over his shirt.
“Like your mom,” he says, “it’s impossible for me to be mad at you.
I wish you would’ve told us, but I understand why you didn’t.
As much as I hate to admit it, Damien seems like a good kid.
He faced your brothers without shitting his pants, and that has to count for something, right? Not too many people manage it.”
I laugh and take a step back so I can wipe my cheeks clean before I turn to my brothers.
They both eye me warily, probably unsure if I’m going to try and hug them or claw their eyes out.
I stay where I’m at, looking between the two of them.
“I’m not an idiot,” is the first thing I say. “You should’ve trusted me.”
Misha runs a hand through his hair and leans back against the counter. “We know you’re not an idiot, but the last thing Yuri and I were expecting was to see Damien carrying you out of the woods, both of you looking filthy and ridiculously happy about it.”
I ignore the surprised laugh my mom gives from behind me and the deeper one that follows it. Tuning my parents out, I tell my brothers, “I still think you should’ve listened to me instead of going full psycho on us.”
Yuri snorts out a laugh. “Trust me, Sitka, that was not full psycho mode. You have no idea how well we behaved for you.”
Instead of the apology I knew was never going to happen, Misha says, “You’re our little sister. It’s our job to protect you, and that’s what we did tonight, whether you see it that way or not.”
“God, you’re so stubborn,” I tell him before wrapping my arms around him in a big hug.
He hugs me back right before I hear Yuri say, “Well, now I just feel left out.”
Before he joins in, he takes a second to pat my head and mess my hair up.
“I was going to hug you next,” I tell him.
“It still hurts my feelings you didn’t reach for me first, especially when I resisted using my knife tonight,” Yuri says. “If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is.”
“Thanks for not trying to kill the man I love,” I tell them.
“Trying?” Misha asks. “That’s insulting on a deep level, and I’m going to forget you said it so we can still be friends.”
I grin and pull back so I can look at them. “At least he got some good hits in.”
They both give me a look that makes it clear they don’t think I’m funny at all.
“We got some good hits in,” Yuri says.
“And he deserved every one of them,” Misha adds. “He shouldn’t have snuck around with you.”
“Oh, so you would’ve calmly listened to us if we’d told you from the very beginning?” I ask.
They don’t even bother trying to lie. Misha ignores me and looks over at our parents. “Can you pass that bottle of vodka over?”
I eat a handful of marshmallows while we all get our drinks, and with everyone’s tempers back to normal, my dad leans in close and says, “Follow me, derevtse moyo.” He’s close enough for me to hear the soft laugh he gives before he adds, “Maybe I should stop calling you that after tonight.”
I groan and feel my face heat up before following him out onto the veranda. Nyx stays by my side until we get outside and she sees her brothers. Giving me a look, I pet her head and tell her to go have fun. She licks my hand and takes off while I take the seat across from my dad.
He interlaces his fingers behind his head and leans back to look at the sky. “You’re going to miss this when you’re in the city.”
“I will,” I say. Closing my eyes, I listen to the waves crashing below us and take in the salty air that I’ve been breathing since birth. “I’m going to miss so many things.”
He’s quiet for a few minutes, both of us enjoying the calm after the last few tense hours. Finally, he says, “Damien promised you’d be back to visit every month.”