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With a loud exhale he replied, “No, Lucca is. Then Arlo, Viktor, and I.” Ilias’s eyes searched mine. “How about you? Any siblings?”
I'd opened up the door for questions, and now I had no idea how to shut it.
“So, I tell you something about myself but you won’t reply to the same question?” he asked humorlessly.
“I’m an only child.” I replied quietly.
“That sounds lonely.” The simple tone of his voice touched a nerve.
“I don’t know the difference, so I wouldn’t know. Plus, not everyone is lucky enough to have a full family.”
He chuckled darkly. “Of that, I can agree.” A gasp slipped through my lips when knocks on my window caught me by surprise. “It’s just Dima,” Ilias assured me even when my eyes took in Dima’s stance. But I couldn’t shudder the feeling of shock.
The kulebyaka was already cut in smaller portions to share between us, and I dived into the warm outer breading. The inside was mixed with many flavors from the white rice, meat, and fresh spices and melting cheese.
“What do you think?” Ilias asked before he took another bite with one hand on the wheel as we headed toward the grocery store.
“It reminds of a Hot Pocket, but homemade and real food, so this one is delicious.”
The upcoming intersection light turned red, and Ilias cut off the music and turned to face me.
The car grew quiet.
“Did you just compare a kulebyaka to a frozen and cheap Hot Pocket? This is a real meat pie, with home-made bread and baked to perfection!” I think I'd hit a nerve. “How dare you, Davina.” I definitely did.
“I said it reminds me of… not that it tasted anything like it.”
Ilias shook his head and remained quiet.
I almost laughed—almost.
Fourteen
Ilias
The longer and farther we were away from the house, the more Davina shed the captivity she’d been forced into for protection. She was comfortable, and a bright light spun around her irises with freedom. It was risky to take her away, but any outcome would have been the same if we went to a convenience store near her place.
As the night continued, I’d learned a bit more about her, and with each bit she shared the more I wanted to know of her. Dima was smitten by her in just a matter of seconds. How couldn’t he be? She was unique and even as she hid behind her clothing, it was hard not to miss her beautiful and striking features. The more I thought about it, the more I knew Dima wasn’t the only one smitten by her. But the word smitten sounded too innocent, and there wasn’t a bone inside me that held such a thing.
She’d knocked me speechless by her insult when she called one of my favorite meals a fucking Hot Pocket. No stuttering or sweet talk could ever take that away, so I turned the music up higher and listened to the lyrics to keep my mind occupied as we neared the grocery store.
During this hour, the store was quiet aside from the humming of the fluorescent lights. Davina didn’t seem to need much and it didn’t take her long to pick a few things. I threw a few snacks inside the metal cart while I watched Davina looking through the aisles deep in thought.
“Why do I get the feeling you didn’t need to come to the store?” I watched her back and kept pushing the buggy.
“I did too,” she fired back.
“Fine, did you get what you needed or are you going to keep strolling through the store?”
Davina let out a snort. “I’m ready to go.”
It didn’t take long to checkout and place the few grocery bags in my trunk. Davina remained quiet, and as we pulled out of the parking building, I finally asked, “What’s troubling you?”
She removed her gaze from the window and glanced my way, but lights in my rearview mirror kept getting closer.
“I might have lied.”
“Might?” I asked, watching the road ahead and flickering my eyes back to the headlights from behind.
