Chapter 61 Sienna
SIENNA
My eyelids weighed a thousand pounds as I squinted into the dark room, trying to figure out what had woken me.
For once, Baby Girl wasn’t kicking my ribs or using my bladder as a trampoline, so I had no idea why my body had so rudely dragged me from sleep.
I rolled over with an irritated huff and closed my eyes, focusing on sinking into the mattress with slow, deep breaths.
I was teetering on the edge of sleep when I heard it—the sound of running water coming from the hall bathroom.
Maybe Dimi was taking a shower…except, it sounded too quiet for the shower. I waited for the water to cut off, but as the minutes ticked past and the sink continued running, my chest grew tight.
My eyes popped open for real this time and I pushed up in bed. I snagged the sweatshirt I’d stolen from Dimi and pulled it on over my tank top before slipping out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom. I gave the door a gentle knock. “Dimi? Are you okay?”
No response. I dragged my hand down my face with a silent groan. Please don’t be on the toilet. Please. I turned the knob and pushed the door open.
Good news—Dimi was not on the toilet. Bad news—he was hunched over the sink, scrubbing his raw, red hands with a kitchen sponge and water so hot steam rose from it. His bare chest heaved with fast, shallow breaths.
“Dimi?” I tried again. This time, he flinched back. Wide, unseeing eyes met mine. “Hey, it’s okay,” I murmured. “It’s just me. Sienna.”
There was no flicker of recognition, nothing to indicate he knew who I was or where he was.
I bit my lip. I was way out of my depth. I tipped my chin at his hands. “Those look sore.”
They were still under the too-hot water, but he was no longer scrubbing them. I tested my luck by taking a small step forward. His body stiffened, but he didn’t move away.
“That running water is going to wake up my bladder.” I sighed.
The urge to pee loomed over me, just out of reach.
“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to go back to bed without peeing now.
” I took another small step forward. “You should really add heated floors in here.” Another step.
“I mean, our bathrooms at home need them first, but then you might as well add them to all your safe houses.” I slowly moved my hand to the tap and turned it off.
The water stopped, and my ears rang in the silence. Dimi flexed his hands, apparently confused why they weren’t boiling anymore.
I turned on the knob for cold water. The second it hit his skin, Dimitri shook his head. “No, I have to wash it off.”
I closed the last bit of space between us and ran my hand down his back. He tipped his head forward with a shudder.
“Wash what off?” I whispered.
“The blood.” His voice was hoarse and broken. “But I can’t. I can’t be clean again.”
A lump rose in my throat. I ran my hand down his arm until I reached his hand. I entwined our fingers and moved our hands under the water. The icy stream was a shock to my skin, but Dimi didn’t even flinch.
“Look at our hands. They’re clean. There’s no blood.”
“You shouldn’t touch me.”
“Why not?”
His shoulders shook with a silent sob. “Because I turned out just like him.”
“Like who?”
“My father.”
My brow furrowed. “What makes you say that?”
“I hurt you. Threatened to take your child away, just like he did to her. To control her.”
I drew in slow breaths through my nose to keep myself from crying. My heart broke for the man in front of me. The flawed, broken man who had never gotten to be a child…who had learned that survival required control and manipulation.
I ran my hands through his hair. “Would you have followed through? Ripped my daughter from my hands?”
His eyes finally snapped to mine. “Never. I would never fucking do that.”
“I know,” I murmured through the pain in my chest. I didn’t know the words were true until I spoke them out loud. “I know you wouldn’t.”
My hand ran a path from his hair, down his neck, and across his back, tracing the jagged scars.
The scars…
My heart rate picked up before my mind made the connection.
Oh god. Nausea rocked through me as my sluggish thoughts pieced together what I should have realized right away.
It was so obvious now that the only excuse I could give was that my brain didn’t want to put the puzzle pieces together.
It was trying to protect me because the truth was worse than anything I could have imagined.
Dimi’s father had sent him to Russia to live at the compound. He’d been kept there for years, rarely allowed to visit home as he was trained to be a soldier.
“Dimi? Where did you get your scars?”
His muscles tensed under my fingers. “I do dangerous work, Sienna.”
His tone was flat and I could feel him building his walls again, but my certainty only grew. The Souleater had tortured boys in a remote area of Russia. Painstakingly documenting the results of his sick training like he was cosplaying a real fucking scientist.
24.5.07: 523mL blood loss. Subject sprinted for 16 minutes before passing out.
2.6.07: Maximum deadlift weight reduced by 7% after 400mL blood loss. 34% reduction after 500mL blood loss. Iron infusion given. Will retest in 3 days.
13.7.07: Two cuts administered to evaluate efficacy of gunpowder cauterization vs. oil cauterization
None of the names in the journals matched Dimitri’s, but tears spilled down my cheeks regardless—for those boys, and for the records of scars that mirrored my husband’s. When I sniffled, Dimi turned to me with an expression of horror.
“No, malyshka. You can’t cry.” His eyes lost that vacant expression and he wrapped his arms around me, holding tight. “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll make it better.”
I hugged him back. “The other night, I didn’t call you because I’d had a nightmare.
I called because I was really upset after I discovered the Souleater’s old journals.
Records of the training he put boy soldiers through.
” I’d meant to send them to Atlas the next day, but in all the chaos, they’d slipped my mind.
His entire body tensed, and when he spoke again, his voice was raw. “He kept journals?”
“Yeah.” My chest tightened. I didn’t want to make this about me, but the sadness was a hurricane I couldn’t outrun. “Is that what happened to you? The Souleater?”
“Shh,” he murmured, brushing away my tears. “It’s okay, malyshka. It’s in the past.”
I shook my head. “It’s not in the past for you.” I shifted back enough to put my hands on each side of his face. “You didn’t deserve any of that. We will end him, I promise you.”
He jerked his head in a nod.
“Let’s go back to sleep,” I said. “Except I wasn’t joking about peeing.”
I nudged him out of the bathroom and half-collapsed onto the toilet, struggling to wrap my mind around all of this.
How could I make sense of something so cruel?
I ran my hands over my belly. I couldn’t wait to meet my daughter, but the idea of her being out in the world, separate from my body, was terrifying.
How could I protect her from everything and everyone?
Dimi waited for me outside the bathroom door. I grabbed his hand and tugged him to my bedroom. This time, I didn’t stop at the door.
We lay down together and suddenly, the world felt a little lighter. Sleeping apart was punishment for both of us, and we had experienced too much pain recently to add more.
We faced each other, my red-rimmed eyes meeting his soft blue ones. He caressed my face, his calloused thumb running across my cheek. “Can I hold you?” he breathed.
I blinked away fresh tears at the tenderness of his question. “Yeah. I’d love that.”
He helped me roll over so I faced away from him before slipping his bicep under my head. His other arm circled my stomach, and his thigh pressed between my legs, alleviating the pressure on my low back.
The last thing I heard before I fell asleep was Dimi’s murmured words.
“Everything is better when I’m with you.”