4. Alek #2
I’m worried she’ll get sick, but I have to put that in the back of my mind and figure out a plan. We can’t walk aimlessly in the woods forever.
I can see the headlines now, “The alleged Russian Pakhan and his son’s runaway bride haven’t been seen in days.”
That’ll get the rumor mill going even more.
I know how media and politics work. I’ve been in the game a long time and there are people who will use this moment to their advantage.
I can’t stay missing for long or chaos will unfold.
Enemies will flock to take my territory and dismantle everything I’ve built.
My worthless son won’t know how to handle the situation and will allow the Bykov name to follow.
I won’t allow it.
“What was your plan, Mia?” I ask her over the leaves crunching under my waterlogged shoes. “Did you have a plan?”
She shakes her head at the same time she says, “Yes.”
“That clarifies everything,” I tease, ducking my head under a long slender branch.
We have to get out of these woods soon. Night will fall sooner than we will expect. Bears, coyotes, and mountain lions live here. We’re in their territory now.
“I’ve had an abandoned car by the state line for a while now, hidden under a camouflage tarp a few yards in the woods.
I didn’t know if I’d ever use it. It was there just in case if I ever decided to finally leave.
I wasn’t even thinking of the car when I fled the church.
I saw myself in the mirror, wearing a wedding dress I hated, noticing none of my friends or family would be there, knowing if I married Ivan, I’d be doomed.
I wasn’t thinking at all. I didn’t really have a plan.
I just knew I had to escape. I drove on pure adrenaline and then nearly killed us. ”
A twinge of guilt consumes me knowing the accident is mostly my fault. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I should have spoken up sooner to let you know I was there. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to stop you from leaving. I spoke up at the wrong time.”
“I panicked when I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s okay.” I kiss the top of her head again. “It was an accident. It’s no one’s fault, Mia. Don’t blame yourself.”
She doesn’t say anything. She probably doesn’t believe me. My son has installed fear in her soul, the kind that warps her confidence and shapeshifts any reason for her to be at fault.
“You read my journal,” she says in between the sounds of broken twigs.
“I did.”
“That’s an invasion of privacy. You read words that weren’t ever supposed to be read by another person.”
I don’t feel guilty at all for reading it. I know I should feel bad. Guilty, even. I should apologize, but I have nothing to apologize for. My selflessness only goes so far.
I would’ve never known the truth if it wasn’t for those pages because Mia would have never told me and Ivan would’ve kept that truth buried for as long as possible.
No, an apology won’t ever happen. I’m going to find out more too. I’m going to dry out every single page and hope the ink isn’t ruined so I can learn every heinous thing my son did to Mia.
And then, I’m going to read it again and again.
I’m going to memorize every fucking word, every horrible action, every page will be embedded in my memory.
One day, when my son is bound and tried for his crimes, I’m going to read him every single word. Every action he inflicted on Mia will be inflicted on him.
“You’re not going to apologize, are you?”
I look down at Mia at the same time my foot catches an exposed tree root. Stumbling, I press Mia against my chest, turn my body just in time before my shoulder connects with a tree.
A loud crunch sounds, and I shout in agony, falling to my knees. My right shoulder is limp, and I do my best to hold Mia with one arm but it’s impossible. She’s able to roll onto the ground safely, the tulle hiding most of her body.
“Oh my god, Alek! Are you okay? Tell me what happened. What hurts?” She kneels right in front of me, inching so close to me, I can smell the faint floral scent of her perfume.
“I’m okay. I’m fine. Are you? Did I drop you?”
“Will you stop worrying about me and let me worry about you for once?” She snaps, lifting my chin with two fingers, her usual warm eyes filled with irritation.
Pain burns in my shoulder and I still manage to smirk. I’m happy. Ivan hasn’t completely extinguished her fire. He was nothing but water, drowning her spark so it couldn’t catch aflame.
When what she really needs is a match, someone who will light her spark again when she finds it gone.
“I’m at your mercy, Mia,” I relent.
I know I have a dislocated shoulder. I’ve dislocated the same shoulder a few times over the last decade. I know all I have to do is pop back in place. It hurts like hell, but I’m enjoying Mia fussing over me.
Her hand slips up my chest and I have to hold my breath, knowing I can’t away how good she feels touching me. Now is not the time or place to let her know that her touch has me captivated and devastatingly in love.
Her eyes follow her hand as it moves across my chest, her tongue flicking out to wet her bottom lip. If I wasn’t in so much pain, if she wasn’t on the run, if, if, if…
Our love could make the world spin.
“This shoulder?” She asks, brushing her fingers down the arm I can’t lift.
Sweat stings my eyes as I nod.
“We need to pop it back into place and we need a sling.”
“I can do it. It isn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last,” I explain. “We don’t have a sling.”
She looks around out of habit, trying to prove me wrong when her sights land on the skirt of her dress. “Yes, we do.” She rips the material off in long sheets, still leaving enough for the dress if she finds herself wanting to walk down an aisle.
“So clever,” I praise her, lifting my injured arm. Holding in my shout when agony sears my insides, I tug my wrist as I stretch my injured arm in front of me. A soft pop sounds as the bone slides back into the correct place.
“You shouldn’t know how to do that.” Mia reaches for my arm to start making the sling and I stop her, placing one hand gently on top of hers.
“We can worry about that later. I can’t carry you if my arm is in a sling.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m sore, but I’m alive. Thanks to you. Let me do my part, Alek.”
I pull her to me, until her breath ghosts over my lips, and her eyes fall to my mouth.
Not the time or the place.
“Listen to me,” I demand, holding onto the back of her neck.
“You need medical attention. Walking after CPR is not a good idea, not until you’ve had medical clearance.
You died, Mia. You were dead. You weren’t breathing.
If you could walk, you’d need to do so gradually, slow and steady down a damn hallway, not hiking in some random part of the forest.”
“You can’t carry me, Alek. Your shoulder—”
“—will be fine. I’ve had a lot worse happen to my body. This is nothing.” I study our surroundings, nothing but trees in my view. The sweat stings and blurs my vision.
I pinch my eyes, wiping the sweat away the best I can, and lean against a tree trunk. I need a few seconds. The adrenaline is crashing and the exhaustion and aches from the car accident is hitting me.
I’ve be shot, stabbed, beaten, and tortured, yet I feel more exhausted now than I did then.
“What are we going to do? You don’t have to stay with me. I can figure out how to get to the state line. Don’t be suck here when you have an entire life to get back to.”
An entire life.
I scoff at that.
My entire life is sitting right in front of me in a wedding dress that wasn’t meant for me.
And I mean this with so much disrespect to my son…
I’m not fucking going anywhere.
Ever. Again.