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“What life?” the third man, Viktor, scoffs. “You were jobless, broke, and on the verge of being homeless, what exactly are you in such a rush to get back to?”
Inhaling sharply, I internally deflect his barb, then level my gaze on him. “I’m not going to ask how you know all that stuff about me, because as far as I’m concerned none of this is happening right now. But I promise, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m a survivor, I always have been, and as soon as I get home, I’ll get things back on track. This week will just be a blip in my rearview mirror.”
“This is your home now, Alabama,” Dimitri says, sounding out my name precisely.
Shaking my head, I deny his words.
Turning, Dimitri looks to Lev, who stands and walks to a sideboard. Grabbing a leather folder, he crosses the room and sits back down on the couch, placing the folder on the table between us.
My eyes track his movements as he unzips the folder and opens it, pulling out a sheet of paper and pushing it across the table toward me.
“What is that?” I ask, not reaching out to take it.
“That is a DNA test confirming that your father is Grigoriy Polakoff,” Lev says.
Now that my eyes are clearer, I can tell that his hair isn’t as dark as the other’s. Actually, it’s more of a dirty dark blond, rather than a brown. Where Dimitri’s features are refined, Lev’s are rougher, harsher. His nose is broader, his cheeks thicker and fuller. His mouth is wider and his lips are full and plump. Everything about him feels softer, even though his body is clearly bigger and more muscular.
Pursing my lips, I shake my head. “It must be a fake.”
“It’s not,” Lev assures me, taking a second piece of paper out and laying it next to the first sheet on the table. “This is the original DNA test that was done when you were born, which also confirms that Grigoriy was your father.”
Closing my eyes, I allow my body to sink back against the couch. Lifting my hands, I rub at my aching temples.
“Are you in pain? Would you like a drink or some Tylenol?” Lev asks, concern furrowing his brow.
“The last thing I remember is going to look at an apartment in Columbus Georgia and, apparently, I’m now in a completely different country, on the other side of the world. If you were me, would you accept drinks or drugs from you?” I snap.
A part of me knows I shouldn’t be talking to them like this, but I’m too numb to be able to find the appropriate level of fear right now. Once they realize I’m really not who they think I am, they’re more than likely going to kill me, and if that’s the case, I don’t want my last words to be begging and pleading. I’d rather go out mouthing off at my psycho kidnappers, than being a pathetic scared mess.
“Perhaps some rest would improve your headache,” Dimitri says, standing and offering me a hand. “Let me show you to your room.”
“I can sleep on the plane. I don’t know exactly how long of a flight it is, because I flunked out of geography, but I don’t really care. I can sleep anywhere,” I try.
“There will be no flight, this is your home now, do not bring it up again,” Dimitri snaps.
“Dimi,” Lev says lowly.
“I apologize,” Dimitri says again. “I know this must be confusing for you. We should have waited until you were completely recovered from your journey before we told you any of this. Come, I’ll show you to your room and then bring you some food and a drink.”
“I just want to go back to Georgia,” I say, not using the word home in case it triggers him again.
“It’s not safe for you in Georgia, Ali,” Vik says, standing and moving beside Dimitri.
The two men are so similar, but strikingly different at the same time. Dimitri is tall, but he’s all lethal grace. The suit he’s wearing accentuates his toned torso and muscled arms, but he’s lean and not big in a showy way. Viktor is just big everywhere. Taller than Dimitri, his muscles are overt and the definition of thick. His thighs are the size of tree trunks and even though he’s dressed in a suit too, he fills it in a completely different way. Dimitri is wearing his suit, where Viktor is being throttled by his.
The best word I can think of to describe Victor is pretty. His hair is long enough to be tucked behind his ears and I can imagine him pulling it up into a ridiculous man bun. His eyes are a warm brown that sparkle with mischief. His lips are smirking and everything about him screams naughty, which is in complete contrast to his huge body that screams dangerous.
“We brought you here to keep you safe,” Lev tells me, standing too, so all three men are towering over me where I’m still sitting on the couch. Lev is shorter than the other two, and slimmer than Viktor, but still muscular in a way that it’s clear he works out and never misses leg day.
While I’m assessing them, they remain standing over me, staring at me intently. “What are you keeping me safe from?” I ask.
“Your father is a dangerous man,” Lev offers.
“He hasn’t bothered me for over twenty years, assuming he knew about me, like you’re saying he did. Why would he bother with me now?”
“Come. We can talk more once you have rested,” Dimitri orders, offering me his hand to take.
“I’d rather talk now, then I can leave,” I say bluntly.
