Kira
Isit up, though it takes some effort. My neck feels like someone crushed it and my entire body is sore from falling so hard. But I manage to crawl down the bed toward Timur and sit on my heels, folding my hands neatly in my lap as I look up at him.
"I'm sorry," I say softly, not sure what he's feeling.
His face has gone through a range of emotions since he first walked in, but all of them are negative.
This whole thing has been a nightmare from the beginning, but as an outsider who knows the truth, I can see how it would be hard for Timur to come to this knowledge.
It's painful. He's professed the man to be his best friend and his right-hand man too.
They're partners and buddies, and Morin has been nothing but a backstabbing monster this whole time, maybe their whole relationship.
I hate that for him, that he's never known true loyalty from the man he called his best friend. It's just not fair.
"Say something," I tell him, but he's stewing, working his jaw in a grinding motion while he stares at my face blankly.
It feels like he's trying to decide whether he can believe my uncle or not. But if Victor says he has proof then he definitely has proof. He wouldn’t tell Timur that and not be able to back it up.
But Timur still doesn't say anything. His hands curl into fists then uncurl in the same manner. His eyes are pinched, and the vein in his forehead bulges angrily at me, pulsing along with the beating of his chest, which is so hard I see his shirt shaking.
It's scary. If he were just a random man I'd met on the street, I'd be frightened of him. But he's not just a random man to me anymore. He's the man I love, and I want to help him with this.
I reach for him, weakly, and hope to rest my hand on his chest, bring him some sort of anchor in the middle of this raging storm he's feeling. But before I can even touch him, his hand snaps up and he grabs my wrist. I startle, sucking in a breath, and his grip hurts at first. Then he relaxes.
"Please, Timur... I didn't mean to upset you by what I've said. I just want you to remember I’m not your enemy at all.
" I know how horrible that sounds because, in fact, I am a member of a family he considers his enemy.
But Victor himself said that the Mirovs aren't competing with the Kuzins. He holds no ill will toward any of them. I don’t want poison between us.
"Don't," he snarls, but I uncurl my fingers, reaching for his face. He lets my arm move upward until my fingers dust over his stubble. His eyes shut at the physical contact but he's still controlling my wrist, limiting how much I can touch him.
"I want my family to be safe, that’s all, Tim. They didn't do the things that Morin—"
"Don't say his fucking name," Timur snarls, and his eyes pop back open.
"Okay," I placate, trembling now. But I won't back down. I need him to hear this. "I'm just saying that my family is innocent, and I am innocent... I was frightened by you so I told you I was someone else, but everything else was real. The rest was the real me."
His eyes search me hesitantly, and his grip loosens more, but the storm still rages in his gaze as I continue.
"And whatever you choose to do to me, to my family, I will submit to it, because I trust your heart.
" Then I lower my hand and press it against his chest. He allows it, and his grip slides to my elbow.
"I love you, Tim—even if you don't believe any of this and you still want to kill everyone in my family. I still love you after all of that."
I want to tell him it's because real love isn't about what you can get, it's about what you give, but he doesn't need to hear that.
I think he knows it deep in his heart, and I think he loves me too.
He's just really hurt right now and he's sorting through so many things.
All I can do is open my heart and leave it open, even when it hurts me.
"I..." he starts, but then he stops. And for a second, I wonder if he will forgive me. If by some miracle, he might break down right now and tell me he wants to go to Victor's house.
But instead of relaxing more, he seems to get angrier. The pinch in his eyes intensifies, brows furrowing harder as his eyes darken. And then his lips tighten into a line and his jaw clenches harder.
He lifts his hand, cupping my cheek, brushing his thumb over my cheekbone tenderly, and leans in. His lips are feather soft when he dusts mine with a kiss, and then his hand slides to the nape of my neck where he fists his hand in my hair, forcing my head back.
I wince as he cranes my neck, exposing my throat to him, and claims my mouth in a kiss so hard it hurts. His teeth rake over my lips, biting and scraping, and it's so consuming I almost can't breathe for a second. And when he pulls back, pressing his forehead to mine, his eyes are shut tight.
"I swear to God, Kira..." He's heaving for air too, angry as sin and serious as the day I was born. "If this is a bunch of lies, you're gonna wish you never met me."
"I'm not lying... Victor isn't lying, T—"
"I swear!" he snarls, shaking my head. I suck in a breath and watch him lift his head and open his eyes.
"If I have to kill you with my own hands, it's going to destroy me.
" His tongue flicks out over his lips, then he bites down hard.
When he speaks again, my blood runs cold.
"Because I am not a killer, but a wound this personal can't be handled by anyone else. Do you understand me?"
I whimper, nodding at him, but he's angry as hell. "Fucking say you understand," he snarls, shaking me again.
"I understand." I swallow hard, trying not to let my natural instinct to be afraid show on my face, and Timur sighs through his nose. What I don't expect is how he uses the handful of my hair he has a hold on to shove me back on the bed where I collapse.
Then he stomps out, slamming the door behind him, and I curl into a ball as tears well up faster than I can blink them back.
I pull the blanket up and over my body and sob, letting my whole body shake with the force of the emotions escaping me.
He's so angry, he probably hates my whole family and wants them to die.
I know that his anger is misplaced, but what if he really does feel that way?
And what if the things he feels for me just aren't strong enough to pull him back from this fog of rage?
I reach for the vodka tucked in the bedside table drawer and pull the cork out. The first swig nearly chokes me but I take several, swallowing the hard liquid down to try to chase away some of my own emotion.
I love him so much, and what I told him was a hundred percent true. I’m going to love him no matter what. But if he hurts my family after learning the truth, I'm not sure how we'd ever repair things between us. I don't know if he even wants to repair things between us.
I just know I'm not sure I want to keep living if he doesn't want to fix this.
And that scares me.