Moscow before I even woke, and the lack of his presence intensified an uneasy feeling in my chest. Had I given him exactly what he wanted, so he now had no reservations about handing me over in return for my papa?
I chewed my lip and walked through the house in a daze, trying to find something to do—anything to distract my mind from its horrid musings. I stopped short at the sight of the quiet serving girl in the laundry room.
“Oh, you’re back.”
With a wild flare of uncertainty in her eyes, she dropped her head and focused on the laundry she was folding, her movements nervous. I noted she looked better than I’d ever seen her. She was usually so pale, so fragile, but today, a healthy glow warmed her skin. Days ago, Ronan told me her disappearance was “none of my business,” and I suddenly knew he was responsible for her change in appearance.
Having nothing better to do, I moved closer, picked up a towel, and began folding it. She tensed, keeping her gaze lowered, but when her shaking hand lifted to her cheek, I realized she was wiping away a tear. The air really needed to be cleared.
“I know you poisoned me,” I said simply and grabbed another towel.
She dropped one of Ronan’s undershirts, her terror-filled eyes shooting to me.
I didn’t know what compelled her to serve me a cup of cyanide, but I did have the gut instinct it was one of those gray moments in life that couldn’t be categorized.
“I forgive you, you know? But please don’t do it again. It really sucked.”
I didn’t know how much English she understood, though I believed she got the gist by the feel of her incredulous gaze on me for a long moment while I worked my way through the bath towels.
“I am sorry,” she finally said softly, tears running down her cheeks. “I promise, I vill not do again.”
Her thick accent was endearing, and a warm smile touched my lips. “Now that’s out of the way, how does Ronan like his underwear folded?”
Glossy eyes slid to the boxer briefs in my hand, and the smallest hint of humor arose, which I imagined she hadn’t felt in a long time. Then she grabbed another pair of underwear and showed me how to correctly fold them. The simple moment filled another hole in my heart I didn’t know was there.
fudgel
(n.) pretending to work while actually doing nothing
Albert held the banker by his collar and punched him in the face. Blood and spittle flew through the air. Leaning back in my desk chair, my eyes caught and narrowed on a blonde hair on my shirt sleeve. My first instinct was to pluck the strand off as if it carried a flesh-eating strain of bacteria. The hair was yellow. And these days, the color made my chest feel ridiculously tight.
The sensation was karma.
I knew it would catch up with me. And here it was, making me feel awkward as fuck with a single strand of Mila’s hair. She clung to me when she wasn’t even present. Her summery smell, the feel of her legs wrapped around me, the sound of her laugh . . . All of it had burrowed beneath my skin deeper than claws.
Albert’s fist flew. The banker’s jawbone cracked, and a tooth skidded across my desk.
Karma could have given me something easier to deal with—like an impending atom bomb or a nuclear disaster. But no, the comeuppance karma had dealt me was feelings. What a cunt.
Albert kicked the prone man in his ribs. He tried to block the blows with his arms. Bad decision. A boot connected with his head, though I vaguely paid attention, my mind still stuck in fluffy, Mila-induced clouds.
I’d been inside her enough times to memorize every inch of her body. My curiosity on that front should be satisfied. Though satisfaction was the feeling of a job well done; not the driving need to do it again and again until I died.
Sergey’s pained groans filled the room as I stared at the strand of hair on my sleeve, relishing the fact it was there and hating it all the same.
I’d like to think my interest in Mila was just about her body, but I’d never talked to a woman as much as I did her without experiencing the pull of suicidal boredom. And yet I was the one striking up conversation even while balls-deep inside of her just to hear what that mouth of hers