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I start to step away without waiting for a response, but before I can take a single step, he hooks that claw around my hip and reels me into him. I smell the smoke again, the mint, and it’s nauseating, it’s fucking disgusting, actually, I want him to stop touching me, tostop fucking touching me,but he’s just in my face, still smiling that same dead smile, and I open my mouth to scream, but before I get it out—
“Get your hands off of her.”
An unfamiliar voice cracks through the air like thunder against a cloudless sky. I feel myself pale instantly, but my reaction is paltry compared to Adrian’s second cousin.
“K-Kolya,” the man stammers.
The owner of the booming voice steps between us as the cousin’s hand falls lifelessly from my waist. The first thing I notice is the black suit he’s wearing. I’d say he looks like a model, which is true in the sense that his cheekbones are high, his gaze searing, his hair perfectly imperfect.
But the real truth is that he doesn’t look like a model at all, because there’s nothing remotely posed or curated about him. He looks like he’s thrown on the suit without a second thought. He looks like the kind of man who doesn’t think about what he wears or how he looks—because he knows that he’ll get anything he wants regardless.
His dark blue eyes are stormy and fixed unblinkingly on Adrian’s cousin. “I’d remove that hand if I were you, Salazar,” he says, deadpan. “Unless you want it broken.”
Salazar.It suits him. Slimy and repulsive.
Salazar tucks his hands behind his back like hiding them will save him. He’s not looking at me anymore. Not so much as a glance. It’s as if I’ve gone invisible all of a sudden.
I’m not upset about it.
“Kolya, h-how are you?” he asks, still tripping over his own words.
“You always were one for stupid questions,” Kolya growls, his gaze direct and impatient. “Is there a reason you’re here?”
“I… I wanted to pay my respects.”
“Did he owe you money?”
Salazar’s eyes teeter to me for a moment. His throat bobs sickeningly.
“Look at her again, and you’re risking the loss of an eye to go along with those fingers,” Kolya warns. He delivers the threat so calmly, without even a hint of inflection. He might as well be exchanging small talk about the weather.Nice day we’re having. Beautiful flowers. I’ll fucking kill you.
When Salazar says nothing, Kolya tsks. “Answer me.”
“N-no. Adrian didn’t owe me anything.”
“Then I’d say your respects are paid. Leave. Now.”
I watch in amazement as Salazar turns on the spot and walks away from us at a speed that’s almost comical. It reminds me of those old Scooby Doo cartoons, when Shaggy’s feet are a blur of motion before he zooms off-screen.
I watch him go.
Kolya watches me.
I turn to him, expecting him to drop the stare. He doesn’t do anything of the kind. “You should sit down,” he says.
Without waiting for me to reply, he places his hand on my middle back. Much less intimate than Salazar, but unlike the first man, this gesture isn’t creepy. It’s almost impersonal, if that’s a thing.
He steers me towards an armada of empty chairs in one corner of the room. “Sit.” There’s no concern in his tone, not a trace of warmth. It’s a command, through and through.
Weirdly enough, I find myself obeying.
Honestly, as crazy as it sounds, part of me likes it. It’s nice to be told what to do in this situation. It makes me feel like I’ve been standing around for hours waiting for this particular man to arrive and take over.
Now, if only he could tell me how to react, or even how to feel.
Maybe he could help me cry at last.
“Here,” he says. I look down dumbly at the glass of water that’s materialized in his grasp. When I don’t move, he sighs, pulls my hand from my lap, and wraps my fingers around the water. I accept it silently and take a sip. The sip turns into a gulp, and before I know it, I’ve downed the whole thing.
