6. Blair
Blair
M y phone stays dark next to me as I chew on my thumbnail, watching the ticking clock. A baking show is playing on the TV, but I can’t even pretend to pay attention to it.
Daniil always texts me when he’s done with his meetings.
I don’t even know if he realizes it, but it’s the most comforting thing he’s ever done for me. If he texts me, I know that he’s okay. He might be working late, but he’s fine. He’s not in the fray, and he’ll come home in one piece.
Even when he’s with Emiliya, I typically get some indication he’ll be late. Either he’ll say something before he leaves in the morning, or his phone is turned off when I call, or—if we’ve been arguing—he’ll tell me not to wait up.
But I called him an hour ago, and it rang through to voicemail, so I doubt he’s with her. Besides, it wouldn’t be like him to stage a whole production of having Andrei come over under the guise of work so he could meet up with her. If he wanted to, he’d just go to her.
Where the hell is he ?
I’ve only called once, and I resist the urge to call him again.
Maybe he really is just working late, and blowing up his phone will just make things more difficult. Or he’s just with Emiliya, but he forgot to leave me any painful hints.
I settle into the couch, trying to let that thought settle me.
The more time passes, the more I convince myself that, yes, Daniil’s out getting laid, and when he gets home I’ll chew him out, we’ll go to bed angry, and we can go right back to pretending everything’s fine in the morning.
Do I wish he’d found a way to be content in our marriage? Of course.
I constantly wish I was enough for him, but wishes aren’t reality. Instead, marrying me hurt his reputation with the pakhan, and Daniil could never let that lie.
At least he didn’t divorce me and leave me for the wolves. It would’ve been easier for him, but his affair lets him keep his standing while keeping me alive. It’s better this way.
At least I’m alive to resent his choices.
I watch as the clock ticks away another hour before I give up and move my vigil to the front room, sitting on the bottom of the stairs and fidgeting with my ring while I wait for headlights to pull into the driveway.
I check my phone again. Still nothing.
I swear, when Daniil shows up completely fine, I’m going to strangle him. Then I’ll have to figure out how to bring him back to life, because Niko and I need him. Even so, I’m still going to kill him, and it’s going to feel great.
When finally, finally I’m treated to the reflection of lights in the driveway, anger has overtaken my worry. Was it too much effort to send a single text message? Or make a quick call? Hell, smoke signals would’ve worked at this point.
My line of thought stops dead when instead of keys in the door, I hear a knock.
Daniil wouldn’t knock. He wouldn’t want to risk waking up Niko. Daniil knows that getting Niko to sleep when he isn’t here is the hardest thing I do on any given day.
Yet there’s a shadow visible through the curtains, standing just outside the front door. I look back up the stairs, a lump in my throat.
Whoever it is, they’re here for me, right? If someone was trying to get ahold of Daniil, they’d call him. And no one needs to talk to a three-year-old at two in the morning.
I’m the only other person here, and I don’t get visitors.
My mind flashes to Pavel’s cold eyes the last time I had the misfortune of finding myself alone with him, shortly after I moved to Chicago with Daniil. It was the first time Daniil brought me around Maksim, and from the promise of violence when he looked at me, Pavel wasn’t happy to see me again.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe again until Daniil and I got home and the doors were locked behind us.
I’ve only seen Pavel a handful of times since then, but I’ve never been able to shake the fear that paralyzes me when I do.
What are the odds that the person at the door is him? He’s too important to do his own dirty work now, right? He wouldn’t stoop below his rank long enough to put his hands on me again. Right?
If he hadn’t been scared off by some passing bystander the one time he caught me alone, he probably would have killed me. I’m not lucky enough for him to make the same mistake twice. My fear twists in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
The person at the door knocks again, louder this time.
If I let them in, I have no recourse to prevent them from doing whatever they want. I can scream and fight, but it probably won’t stop them. I’ll just wake Niko up and scare him half to death. I can’t let that happen.
I have to do what I can to protect him, even if it kills me.
They aren’t here for Niko. They’re here for me. As long as he stays upstairs, they won’t go after him.
I walk toward the door, fingers fumbling as I try to undo the lock. When it clicks, I take a shaky breath and open the door, half expecting to come face-to-face with a weapon, but I don’t.
It’s just Andrei, though that does little to soothe my anxiety.
His hands are tucked into the pockets of the leather jacket he definitely wasn’t wearing when he was here earlier, and he looks more haggard than I’ve ever seen him.
His dark hair is a mess, and his gray eyes that normally pin me in place look almost haunted.
I glance behind him, expecting to see my husband, but instead I just see his empty car parked in the driveway.
“Can I come in?”
“Where’s Daniil?”
He shakes his head, looking absently at a point over my shoulder. “Please let me in, Blair.” My throat squeezes, trapping the air in my lungs. “Please.” His shoulders are set, and I cling to the doorknob for balance, shaking my head.
“Andrei, where’s my husband?”
He opens his mouth and closes it, like he’s trying to figure out what to say. I stumble backward, wrapping my arms around my torso as I try to ward off the chill of dread. He steps closer, catching me when my knees feel like they’re going to buckle.
“Daniil didn’t tell me he was on the way. He always tells me when he’s done with work, he…” I blink. My eyes sting, but they’re dry.
It feels like the room’s spinning around me, and I have to close my eyes for a moment.
Andrei uses his foot to gently kick the door shut, taking a moment to lock it before he guides me back into the living room, urging me to sit on the couch. He sits on the coffee table, taking my face in his hands as I try to gulp in enough air.
“He’s gone, Blair.” His voice is gentle, but it cuts me like a blade to my throat. I’m shocked that I heard him at all over the rushing of my blood and my pounding heart. “Things between him and Semyon got heated, and…” He trails off as I shake my head. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“What do you mean he’s gone? ” I don’t recognize my voice, and Andrei runs his hand down my arm. I don’t know if he’s trying to keep me grounded or make sure I don’t run away, but I’m grateful for the comfort, as paltry as it is.
There’s conflict written all over his face and I can’t stand to watch, so I close my eyes again. It doesn’t help. Even when I can’t see anything, I still feel like the ground is moving under me, carelessly tossing me around.
“He fought so hard to come back to you guys. He fought so fucking hard, Blair.” His voice is full of grief, his typical predatory grace absent as he holds his hands on my knees.
My ears are ringing, and I choke on a silent sob, my chest caving as I fall forward, unable to hold myself up.
He catches me, tucking my head onto his shoulder while I gasp for breath.
I’m going to be sick.
This is a nightmare, and I’m going to wake up any moment.
Daniil can’t be gone.
I need him.
Niko needs him.
“I’m so fucking sorry, zolotse. ”
I claw at his jacket, desperate to find any signs of deception, but there’s nothing. Just sympathy and worry that makes me numb.
I blink, and the tears I didn’t know I was missing spill free.
I’m not aware that he’s picked me up until he sets me down on my bed, prying his jacket free from my grasp. His thumb smooths over the back of my knuckles while I bite my lip to the point of pain, holding back screams that want to claw out of my chest.
“Try to get some sleep. The rest can wait until tomorrow.” His whisper barely penetrates the fog that I’m stuck in, but my body must understand him because soon after I pull Daniil’s pillow to my chest, I fall asleep.
***
As I wake up, it feels like someone has cut me open, hollowed out my insides, and stuffed me full of cotton.
I feel the pounding in my skull, but it’s distant, almost more like a memory than an actual feeling.
It feels like my eyes are glued shut. I burrow my head into the pillow as I take a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to force myself to fall back asleep.
Sleep brought a merciful numbness, but now that it’s gone, the cotton is fading away.
I’m not ready to feel the full force of the hurt again.
I’m not ready to face anything.
Sunlight streams through the window, mocking me, and I squeeze my eyes closed even harder.
The reasonable fragments of my brain tell me that I need to get up. That I need to take care of Nikolai and figure out how to tell him what’s happened. That I need to check in with Mila.
Oh, god. Has anyone told her yet? What if they haven’t?
I can’t do it. She already spends all her time ignoring me, but this? This will break her. As it is, I don’t know how I’m going to help Niko through this. Adding her grief on top of both of ours will destroy me.
Where the hell am I supposed to go from here?
Giggling echoes through the door, and it’s enough to push me into sitting up, grimacing when I realize I’m still dressed in yesterday’s clothes.
At least if Niko’s laughing, he’s probably entertaining himself long enough for me to take a shower and change.
I doubt it’ll make me feel any better, but at least I’ll feel more like an actual human being.