Chapter Seventeen – Rurik
The dimly lit club frequented by the Yelchin bratva pulsed with a low throb of bass that echoed the thumping in my head. Malachi and I sat in a secluded corner, a bottle of vodka between us, the clear liquid a temporary balm.
I raised the glass to my lips, savoring the burn as it slid down my throat. Across from me, his fingers drummed an erratic rhythm on the table.
Heavy footsteps approached, and I glanced up to see Viktor, the pakhan’s imposing figure casting a long shadow. He eased himself into the chair beside us, his weathered face etched with concern.
“You did well today, but this isn’t over.” His gaze flickered between us. “Don’t give Nika too much space. She’ll amplify what happened into something she can’t accept.”
Malachi’s fingers stilled, his knuckles whitening. “We almost lost her.”
A muscle twitched in Viktor’s jaw. “Which is why you need to go to her. Remind her it’s your job to protect her. Be honest about your feelings.”
I leaned back, considering his words. Honesty had never come easily in our world, but perhaps Viktor was right. And weren’t we shocked that Viktor was doling love advice?!
Seconds later, Dmitri slid into the remaining free chair at the small table. A smirk played across his lips as he regarded his father. “Since when did you become a shrink, old man?”
Viktor’s expression softened, a hint of sadness creeping into his eyes. “When you find the one you love, you cling to her.” His voice dropped, weighted with memory. “Your mother knew that better than anyone.”
We were all silent for a moment, the unspoken grief for Eugenia hanging in the air like a specter. I took another swig of vodka, the burn doing little to dull the ache in my chest.
Dmitri’s bravado faltered, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I didn’t mean...”
Viktor waved a dismissive hand. “It’s all right, son.” He turned back to us, his expression hardening once more. “Don’t let Nika slip through your fingers. Go to her, before it’s too late.”
I met Malachi’s gaze, and he nodded, clearly in agreement. With a few words of parting, we rose from our seats, leaving the half-empty bottle behind.
The drive to Nika’s apartment seemed to stretch endlessly, each passing minute increasing the knot of dread coiling in my gut. Malachi’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his jaw set in a tight line as we navigated the familiar streets.
When we finally pulled up to the modest brick building, I took a steadying breath, steeling myself for the confrontation ahead. Malachi cut the engine, and the sudden silence was deafening. We got out and paused for a second, staring at her building. Doubt threatened to keep me immobile, but when he took a step forward, it broke my paralysis.
The climb up the narrow stairwell exacerbated my dread. I wasn’t sure if she’d even talk to us, or if she’d say something that would permanently end all hopes of being with her. Malachi’s broad shoulders brushed against mine in the confined space.
At last, we reached Nika’s door. Malachi raised his fist, hesitating for a fraction of a second before rapping his knuckles against the worn wood.
The muffled sound of footsteps approached from within, and my pulse quickened. The door swung open, and there she stood, her silvery-blonde hair tousled, her eyes red. She’d obviously been crying.
For a long moment, no one spoke. Nika’s gaze flickered between us, a tempest of emotions swirling in those azure depths. Anger, hurt, and confusion all warred for dominance. Finally, she broke the silence, her voice low and guarded. “What do you want?”
Malachi opened his mouth, but I stepped forward, cutting him off as the words virtually exploded from me. “We need to talk.” I kept my tone level, betraying none of the turmoil churning within me. “Please.”
Nika’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, I feared she would turn us away, but then, almost imperceptibly, her shoulders sagged, and she stepped back, leaving the door ajar.
An invitation, however reluctant.
We entered the dimly lit apartment, and I braced myself for a chilly reception. Nika crossed her arms over her chest, regarding us with a wary gaze. “Talk.”
I drew a fortifying breath, searching for the right words. “What happened with Levon...” My voice faltered, and I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms. “We never intended to steal your closure from you.”
Malachi shifted beside me, his presence a solid, reassuring weight. “You have every right to be angry, but you need to understand that we did what we thought was best to protect you.”
Nika’s eyes flashed, and she opened her mouth, no doubt to unleash a torrent of fury, but then, something in her expression shifted, and the fight seemed to drain from her. She sank onto the battered sofa, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders trembled, and the soft sound of a muffled sob broke the silence.
Malachi and I exchanged a helpless glance, our earlier bravado evaporating in the face of Nika’s raw anguish. Slowly, I crossed the room and lowered myself onto the cushion beside her. Tentatively, I reached out, brushing my fingers against the silken strands of her hair. She flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away.
“Nika...” My voice was little more than a ragged whisper. “We never wanted to hurt you.”
She raised her head, and the sight of her tear-stained cheeks lanced straight through my heart. “But you did,” she said, her words laced with a pain that cut deeper than any blade. “You took something from me that I can never get back.”
Malachi moved to kneel before her, his expression etched with regret. “I see now that we shouldn”t have made the decision for you, but please don”t push us away because of this. We”re here for you if you”ll let us be. We’re not going anywhere, so please give us a second chance.”
A tremulous breath escaped her lips, and she lifted her gaze to meet mine, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “How can I trust you again?”
The question hung in the air, heavy and damning. I had no answer or platitudes to offer. All I could do was lay myself bare before her, exposing the raw truth. “I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice rough with emotion, “But we’ll spend every day proving ourselves to you, if that’s what it takes.”
Her lips parted, as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, she reached out, her slender fingers curling around mine in a grip that spoke volumes.
The weight of the world seemed to lift from my shoulders with that simple touch. It wasn’t forgiveness yet, but it was a start.
For now, that was enough.