until it’s almost too hot to bear. I like the pain of it. It reminds me that I can’t get too comfortable around this place. At any moment, Matvei could turn on me and Nikolas. He could decide that he’s sick of us and put guns to our heads, too. The smartest thing I can do is stay on my toes and remain wary of him.
Afterwards, I swipe a patch of the fog from the mirror and stare at myself. I can practically see Dad’s features in my own. It’s a reminder of why I’m doing this in the first place. This isn’t for me. This isn’t so I can save myself. It’s because I need to save Dad. Right now, he’s the one thing worth fighting for.
Well, him and Nikolas.
I quickly change and pull my hair into a ponytail, not bothering with makeup aside from some lip gloss and tinted moisturizer. I head down the hall to Nikolas’ room when I hear his small voice throwing a fit.
“No!” he cries. I peer around the corner to find Matvei standing next to the boy. My entire body tenses up at the sight of the man.
“Nikolas, I’m not going to tell you again. Stop asking for the knife.”
“But I want it!” he whines, stomping his feet around his room, ready to go full-on tantrum mode. I’m almost sympathetic for Matvei’s struggles. Whenever Nikolas does this to me, I have the biggest headache. I try to give him leeway because as far as I know, he could be kidnapped just like me and throwing a fit is the only way to express his unhappiness, but it’s also an incredibly stressful event when he flips his lid.
“Nikolas, stop it.” The sternness in Matvei’s whiplash voice startles me just as it does the boy.
Nikolas turns around and looks up at him with innocent eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Matvei sighs. “Your parents would kill me if they knew all this.”
“Daddy never knew when I played with his knife,” Niko says, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. “He never tried to hide it from me.”
“That’s because your father was a fool,” Matvei replies.
I shudder. Something about the way he says that makes my skin crawl. If Matvei is willing to play Russian roulette with my dad just to keep me in line, what might he do to Niko if the little boy doesn’t cooperate?
Before my brain can get carried away imagining more horrible scenarios—Niko’s parents locked up in a basement, hanging upside down from the rafters, et cetera—I quickly step in, squatting down next to Nikolas.
“Run downstairs and sit down at the table,” I tell him. “I’ll be down in a bit.”
He nods, turns on his heels, and races downstairs just as I instructed.
Matvei glares at me, and I fight back the urge to turn away from him and leave. That gaze has become more threatening after everything that happened in the safe room. I’d be a fool to continue pressing my luck when it comes to someone as dangerous as him.
“I had it under control,” he says, straightening his clothes. “I didn’t need your help.”
“I didn’t say you did,” I say quietly. “I just figured I’d step in. It’s my job.”
He looks like he’s waiting for a snappier response, and when I don’t give him one, he says, “It’s fine. I wanted to talk to you anyway.”
I swallow hard. “About?”
“My schedule. I won’t be around much today and it’s going to be a late night. If you could put Nikolas down for bed, I would appreciate that.”
This man gives me freaking whiplash. One second, he’s pressing a gun against my father’s head or a switchblade against my leg. The next second, he’s got this stiff formality and says things like “I would appreciate that,” as if our relationship is fine and dandy. Sometimes, I swear he’s the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde of modern day assholes.
But I don’t let any of that show on my face. In fact, I try not to show him my face as best as possible, choosing instead to stare holes into the carpet between my feet.
“I’ll do that,” I say quietly.
It’s a weird feeling, hearing him tell me his schedule. On one hand, I’m thankful that he’s not just going to disappear if I need him for help with something. On the other, when he disappears for long stretches of time, I get antsy. It would be so easy to take Nikolas and run for the police. I could get