Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
ANTON
I held her until dawn, barely sleeping in case she woke upset. But she stayed tucked against me, trusting my arms to keep the worst of it away. That still feels strange, knowing I can give her comfort instead of fear.
Morning has replaced the night, and she’s buckling herself into the passenger seat, preparing to see the place where she once lived while my phone keeps ringing.
Third time this morning. Konstantin again.
Nu blyat. Chto on hochit? Fuck. What does he want?
“Is that your brother?” Thora asks. “My sister keeps calling me too, but I’m not telling them shit.”
A snicker rises in my throat. “Unfortunately, I do not have that luxury. If I don’t answer, they will think I’m dead.”
“Fine, you win. Answer it. I won’t say a word.”
I put the call on speaker as I pull out of the parking lot. “Da.”
“Privet. I’ve been calling you since yesterday. Where are you?”
“I’m on vacation.”
My eyes cut toward Thora, and when she catches me looking, the edge of my mouth lifts.
Silence answers me from the other end of the line, stretching just long enough to become suspicious.
“What do you mean you’re on vacation?”
“I think the word is self-explanatory, no?”
“You never take vacations.”
“Well, I decided to set a new precedent.”
Konstantin chuckles dryly, probably trying to figure out where I am and what I’m actually doing.
“Maybe we should all do the same more often,” he says.
“What’s stopping you, brother?”
“Obligations.” His tone turns rougher. “Just like you have.”
Thora presses her lips together.
“Have you taken care of what you needed to take care of yet?”
Blood rushes into my ears as I pray he doesn’t say Thora’s name or anything else that will make her question this.
“I said I will.” My voice stays even as I glance at her. “Is there anything else you need from me? I have a mai tai waiting.”
Thora’s eyes flash before she covers her mouth to keep from laughing.
“Since when do you drink mai tais?”
“Since I started taking vacations.”
She tries to hold back another laugh, and seeing her this happy makes me smile.
“All right,” Konstantin says. “Well, enjoy yourself. How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. A few days.”
“Let me know when you return. And why didn’t you take the jet?”
“In case you needed it for an emergency. Flying commercial wasn’t so bad. I flew first class, so it wasn’t as terrible as it could have been.”
Konstantin pauses again, and this time I can feel the question coming before he asks it. “Where did you go, exactly?”
“Oh, you know.” I reach over and take Thora’s hand, squeezing it once. “Here and there. I’ll send pictures.”
Another stretch of silence passes before Konstantin repeats, “Enjoy yourself.”
My thumb moves over Thora’s knuckles. “Yeah. I will.”
I end the call before he can ask anything else, then Thora lets out a laugh.
“A mai tai? Really? Even I wouldn’t believe that. You don’t even look like you know what’s in one.”
“I don’t.”
That makes her laugh harder, and I’ll never get sick of it. If lying to Konstantin about tropical drinks is what gets her laughing like that, I’ll tell him I’m drinking out of a coconut next time.
THORA
My hands won’t stop shaking, no matter how tightly I clasp them in my lap.
We’re actually here. After driving for almost three hours, we’ve arrived at what’s supposed to be my family home. The place where my parents were…murdered.
Nausea swirls in my gut. I’m so going to need therapy after this.
Anton didn’t say much on the drive, which was better.
Sometimes saying nothing and holding someone’s hand is the best thing you can give them.
He’ll never be a hearts-and-flowers kind of man.
He isn’t even in the same zip code. But showing up, staying beside me, and bringing me here is how Anton proves he cares, and that will always be enough.
I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t answered my call or was already back in New Jersey, leaving me to face all of this alone.
I haven’t called Blair yet. Eventually, I’ll have to tell her everything, but I’m not ready just yet.
Anton’s fingers press more firmly around mine as I take in the small, neglected house, its paint peeling and weeds crowding the fence.
I wait for some sort of memory to hit, but nothing happens. There are no images of a woman’s laugh or a nursery with yellow walls. No strange pull in my chest telling me I’ve been here before, that some buried part of me recognizes the place where I was once called Penny.
“Are you ready?”
A humorless laugh catches in my chest. “Not even close. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, but I have to do this.”
His thumb passes over my knuckles before he releases me and climbs out. By the time he reaches my side, I’m still frozen in the seat, my fingers wrapped around the seat belt.
Anton opens my door and holds out his hand. I take it and force myself onto unsteady legs, letting him guide me across the street toward the plain brown door. I have no idea whether the person living here knows anything about my family, but this address is the only lead I have.
The house seems smaller up close and even more weathered, with paint flaking from the porch railing and a flowerpot beside the steps holding a plant someone has fought to keep alive through the heat.
Anton knocks, and my pulse begins pounding against my skull.
A woman, maybe in her sixties, answers a few seconds later, her blonde hair clipped away from her face. A welcoming smile starts to form, but her attention shifts from me to Anton and she hesitates.
“May I help you?”
Every word I practiced during the drive vanishes the instant she faces me.
“Hi. I’m sorry. This is probably going to sound strange.”
Her face softens. “That’s all right.”
“I think…” I stop, swallowing around the dryness in my throat before trying again.
“I think I grew up in this house, or at least lived here when I was little. My parents passed away a long time ago, and I don’t really know much about them or where I came from, so I’m trying to find out who I was, I guess.
” The words tumble out too quickly, chased by a nervous laugh.
“Sorry. I feel like I’m unloading on you, and you don’t even know me. ”
“Oh no, sweetheart.” Her gaze flicks to Anton again, taking in the black clothes, the tattoos… I can just imagine what she’s thinking. “You’re more than welcome to come in, though I’ll warn you, the house is a mess.”
“No, no. We don’t want to bother you. I only wanted to ask if you knew anything about the people who lived here before you, but it would have been over twenty years ago. Their names were Mara and Wesley Hale.”
The woman’s expression turns apologetic almost immediately, and whatever small bit of hope I had been holding on to sinks before she even answers.
“I’m sorry, but those names don’t sound familiar at all. I’ve lived here for about ten years, and before that, I was in Georgia, so I really don’t know anything about the family who owned it that far back.”
“All right. Thank you anyway.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Thank you.”
Anton’s touch returns to my back as we step off the porch, and I make it halfway down the walkway before the house next door catches my attention. I find myself being drawn to it for some strange reason.
“Do you mind if we knock on that one too?”
Anton follows my line of sight before turning back to me. “We can knock on every door on this street if you want. I wasn’t planning to leave yet.”
His words make my chest ache. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
Anton goes completely still. Actually, I think he’s starting to turn pale.
Shit. Why did that come out of my mouth?
“Oh my God.” My eyes enlarge as my face burns. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, you know, thank you. Wow. That came out wrong.”
His eyes darken as his arm circles my waist and draws me flush against him. “Say that again.”
My pulse jumps. “What?”
“Say it again.” There’s no teasing in his tone, only that brooding intensity that makes it impossible to look away.
My hands travel up his chest and into his hair, and I rise onto my toes until my mouth hovers near his, the tension in his body pressing into mine.
“I love you, Anton Marinov.”
His next breath falters, and the look in his eyes reveals the lost little boy still buried inside him, the one who spent his life wanting to be loved without believing he ever could be. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.
His mouth lowers toward mine, raising the hairs along the back of my neck. When I test the waters and brush my lips with his, he pulls my body in even closer.
What is he so afraid of? How does a kiss change anything in his mind?
“Excuse me?”
The voice startles us both, and his arm falls away as I turn toward the older woman standing on the porch of the house I planned to visit next.
One hand remains perched against the open door as she takes us both in, then focuses on me.
Her brows snap with the faintest hint of something—maybe recognition—sending my stomach plummeting.
“Are you looking for the Hales?”
My heart slams against my ribs. “Yes, we are. Did you know them?”
The woman studies me, her silver-white hair pinned loosely at the back of her head. “Sure did. Well, come on over here, sweetheart. No sense hollering across the yard.”
Anton places a palm on the small of my back as we cross the patchy strip of grass between the houses, and the woman’s attention lands on him, lingering on the tattoos at his throat before her smile returns, a little more cautious this time.
“Would you two like to come in for some iced tea? It’s too hot to stand out here.”
“No, thank you,” Anton says, his tone rough.
My elbow catches him lightly in the side. “Of course. We would love to come in.”
His eyes cut to mine, and I give him a look right back.
The woman’s smile warms. “I’m June. June Holloway. Come in, come in.”
“Thora,” I say, then hesitate because that’s not really my name. “And this charming guy right here is Anton.”
Anton says nothing, which is probably for the best.
June leads us inside past the framed family photos on the walls. A brown crocheted blanket is thrown over the back of a green suede sofa, and the faint smell of lemon cleaner is in the air.
“Sit wherever you’d like. I’ll grab the tea.”
“Thank you.”
Anton lowers himself beside me on the sofa, one arm resting behind me while his gaze scans the entire place. I swear this man is always combat-ready.
June comes back with a tray a minute later, three glasses of iced tea sweating against floral coasters. Once she sets it down, she sits in the chair across from us with her hands folded in her lap.
“So,” she says, her words carrying a soft little Southern lilt. “Why are you looking for the Hales?”
Picking up a glass, I wrap my fingers around it. “I think I’m their daughter.”
Her expression changes at once, her eyes enlarging before her brows tug in a sad way. “Oh, honey.”
My fingers grow taut around the glass. “I was so little when they died. I don’t remember them. I only learned about them yesterday, so I’m trying to find out anything I can.” My voice wavers, but Anton’s fingers close around mine, his grip steady enough to keep me talking. “Anything at all.”
June shakes her head and leans back, her face distant like she’s remembering. “That was such a terrible thing. We all wondered what happened to you after the police came and told us your parents had been murdered.”
My stomach twists, and Anton’s thumb moves once against the back of my hand.
“So you knew them well?”
“I did, though not as well as I wish I had.” June gives me a small, forlorn smile.
“We weren’t having dinner together every week or anything like that, but they were a nice couple.
Quiet. Kept to themselves, but always polite.
Your mama had the sweetest disposition, and your daddy was the kind of man who would bring my trash cans up if he saw them still sitting by the road. ”
A throb hits my throat. I wish I’d known them.
“And I remember you too.” Her grin widens. “You were a cute little thing, always on your mama’s hip or sitting in the grass with that older girl from next door trying to make you laugh. Big eyes, dark curls, serious little face until someone earned a smile from you.”
Anton’s grip tightens, and I realize I’m holding my breath.
“They loved you,” June says, like she knows that’s what I really need, like she can see the empty place inside me.
“That much I can tell you for certain. Your mama used to sit right there on that porch with you in her lap, singing to you when the weather was nice, and your daddy looked at both of you like he couldn’t believe he got to keep you. ”
My eyes burn so fast, I have to look down. Anton’s hand closes more firmly around mine, and I let myself hold on because I need that reassurance from him.
“They didn’t have any other children?”
“Not that I ever saw.” June purses her lips, thinking it over. “Unless they were hiding someone in that house.” She laughs. “But no, it was just you.”
“Do you know if I had grandparents, aunts, uncles? Anyone?” The questions come faster now, desperation taking hold.
“Well…” June presses her lips together, searching her memory. “Your mama mentioned a sister once, I think. Kentucky, maybe. I wish I could remember a name.”
“Kentucky. Okay, thank you.”
“It might have been Kentucky. I wouldn’t swear to it.” Her face pinches with regret. “I’m sorry I can’t give you more.”
“No, that’s okay.” I force myself to face the disappointment, but it’s more than I had an hour ago. “This helps. It really does.”
“Leave me your number.” June reaches for a notepad on the little table beside her. “If anything else comes back to me, even the smallest thing, I’ll call you.”
I give it to her, watching as she writes my name, and the sight of her spelling Penny instead of Thora makes me feel strange.
“I’m glad you came,” she says. “They would be too.”
The tears rise again, but I swallow them down and nod. “Thank you again for your time.”
When we leave, Anton leads me back to the car and buckles my seat belt while I stare at nothing ahead of me.
“We’ll find your aunt if she exists. I promise.”
A heaviness settles behind my ribs as I look over at him, wanting so badly to believe him.