AVA
“Your canvas is blank”
Cara says, peeking over my shoulder, her eyes narrowed as she stares at the wide expanse of white space, untouched by the dripping paintbrush in my hands.
I let out a sigh, a long shallow breath breaking past my lips. At the beginning of class, Mr Bennett, our painting instructor, scribbled down a prompt for all of us in class to follow and explained that he expected us to let out our creativity following what was written.
I, of course, couldn’t have been more thrilled. The past few days had been hectic, and I’d longed for an outlet, and this was the perfect opportunity.
Or so I thought.
It’s been almost an hour since class started and while everyone seems to be enthralled in their work, I’ve spent my time glancing between my canvas and the prompt.
Serenity and Calmness.
I almost laughed when I first saw it.
Nothing about my life in the last two weeks has been either calm or serene so how the hell am I supposed to craft a masterpiece out of something I’m not even sure I recognise anymore?
I peek at Cara’s canvas, my eyebrows lifting in surprise as I take in her painting. Swirls of deep blues and soft greys blend together seamlessly in broad, flowing strokes. Hints of white dust over the colours, sparkling like foam and bringing the piece together.
Almost.
An unfinished, hazy figure stares into the horizon, the face blurred, but you can almost make out the slight calm in their expression.
Cara tilts her head slightly to the side and I watch as strands of red hair fall from her bun. A smudge of blue paint streaks above her upper lip and I wonder how long it’ll take for her to notice it.
“So are you going to tell me?”
I blink at her, pulling my gaze away from the blue streak above her lip to her eyes. She had said something and I hadn’t paid attention.
“Sorry, What?” I ask dumbly and Cara shakes her head, a slight crease forming on her forehead.
“I asked if you were going to tell me what’s up with you today. You haven’t said a word since you came in and now you’ve been staring at your canvas for the last forty minutes as if it’s had you gobsmacked. Is everything alright?”
I clear my throat, gripping my paint brush tighter between my fingertips. The truth is, as much as I wanted to create something I just couldn’t. My mind won’t let me. Because each time I lifted my brush to my canvas all I saw was him.
His face.
His tattoos.
His fucking scars
Everything about Nikolai Volkov has haunted me like a shadow that never quite fades. He’s always there. In my mind, lurking like some sort of ghost that refuses to leave.
And the worst part? I can’t control it because Nikolai Volko, the head of the Russian Mafia, father to the most adorable little girl I’ve ever seen and my husband, has been missing for an entire week.
Okay, well, technically, he isn’t missing, but he is gone and has been for days.
You would think that with him gone, my life would be nothing but serene and calm, and I would have no problem using the prompt in front of me to create a masterpiece.
But it’s not.
I am neither one of the two and instead, all I feel is confusion with a little bit of anger.
Why? I’m yet to figure that out myself.
“I’m just tired,” I reply, then lift my brush to the canvas once more. The bristled edge hovers over the blank surface for what feels like forever before I shake my head and drop my hand, the weight of my indecision pressing down heavily against my shoulders.
Why is this so difficult?
Cara watches me, her gaze steady and her expression unconvinced with my answer, “Right,” she says pursing her lips, “Now tell me what’s really going on with you.”
I let out a breath and swallow. After what happened between Nikolai and me in the kitchen a week ago, I’d be lying if I said that a part of me hadn’t gone soft on seeing his scars.
When he allowed me to touch them, to drift my fingers along his skin without any indignation, a part of me crumbled and marvelled at how vulnerable he’d been with me.
He’d let me see him. A part of him that no one else had seen before and I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel anything for him when it happened.
I thought that maybe I was beginning to understand him and that maybe just maybe he was a lesser asshole than I thought he was. But then morning came and Kat informed me that he was gone.
Just like that.
He just left.
Apparently, Nikolai and Ivan had somewhere to be, and it was imperative they left first thing that morning. When I asked Kat when they’d be back she shrugged and told me three days.
It’s been seven. And while Kat had gotten numerous phone calls from her husband, mine had gone radio silent.
Not a single peep from his end, and If I wasn’t living in his house and passing by his office every day, I would’ve thought that Nikolai Volkov was a figment of my imagination.
“Are you worried about Nikolai?”
Cara asks, catching me off guard.
Worry isn’t exactly the word I’d used to describe how I was currently feeling. Angry? Sure. Concern? Maybe?
I drop my brush on my canvas and turn to her, placing my hands in my lap.
“He’s been gone for a week, Cara. It’s like he doesn’t even exist anymore and I’m supposed to be okay with it?”
Cara’s brow shoots up, and she leans in slightly, her voice dropping, “Wait a minute, You can’t paint because you’re worried about your husband?”
I wince at the tone in which she uses the word husband and I bite my lip.
“It’s not like I’m worried about him.” I start, the words spilling out of me in a rushed whisper which earns me a side eye from the girl in front of me, “Just concerned.”
Cara crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing in a way that tells me she’s not buying it. “Ava babes, concern is literally another word for worry.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat avoiding her gaze and accidentally meeting the eyes of the boy behind her. He waves at me, but I don’t wave back and instead focus my attention on my best friend, who pins me with a look.
“You know you’re allowed to be worried about him, Ava,” she says and I arch a brow,
“Did you forget the part where I told you that he forced me to marry him?”
She shrugs her shoulders, ” So what, my grandparents were in an arranged marriage, look how happy they turned out.”
Cara’s grandparents’ marriage was arranged by their parents and it was something neither of them had a say in. The difference between their circumstance and mine is that the two of them were already in love when they met so I have no idea whether to be comforted or frustrated by her words.
“Look, all I’m saying is that maybe you’re starting to realize that he isn’t all that bad and maybe that’s making you go a little soft on him. Plus, he’s hot, and the way he carried you on his shoulder the last time I saw him had to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I roll my eyes, “Whatever.”
The bell goes off, signalling the end of class, and I watch as everyone around me starts to dip their brushes into the water and clean their pallets.
Class is over and my canvas is still empty.
Fuck my life.
Mr Bennett stands in front of the class, his hands tucked into the front of his apron, his expression unreadable but carved by the slight wrinkles sitting on the curve of each brow.
“Alright, everyone,” he says, his voice cutting through the soft murmurs that previously filled the class. “I expect your final pieces by next week. And don’t forget, the inner turmoil project I assigned is due by the end of the semester and the top ten pieces will be included in the Resonance exhibition being held right here on school grounds the next day.”
A chorus of responses fills the air, and I absentmindedly gather my things in my bag. Cara does the same beside me and when she’s finished she looks at me,
“So see you tomorrow?” She asks and I nod
“Definitely”
She leaves for her next class while I head in the opposite direction until I’m outside the school building.
The cool afternoon breeze brushes my face as I make my way to the parking lot. The sky is blue and soft clouds drift lazily across it. The noise of the school fades behind me, replaced by the quiet hum of cars and the faint rustle of leaves in the air.
I move through the partially filled lot, my gaze searching for Benjamin.
Benjamin was the guard Nikolai arranged to drop me off and pick me up from school each morning. I recognised him almost instantly as the guard who came into Nikolai’s office the day I got my phone.
I’ve grown accustomed to him waiting for me after class in his usual parking spot under the shade of a large oak tree.
I tried telling him before that he didn’t need to wait for me until I finished classes but he insisted that for him to do his job properly he needed to be at my service at all times even during the times I thought I didn’t need protection and even I have to admit that the kid is dedicated.
I spot Benjamin in his usual position, leaning against the sleek black Jeep we used to come in this morning. He notices me almost immediately and pushes off the vehicle, his expression shifting into a smile as I approach.
“Long day?” he asks taking my bag from me and I force a smile and nod,
“You have no idea”
I pull open the door and just as I’m about to get in, I see that someone is already occupying the seat.
“How have you been Solnyshko?”
My heart stills and I feel a familiar sense of warmth spread across my chest.
Nikolai is here. He’s back.
His presence is an all-consuming shadow that swallows me whole, devouring me until I feel the rush of relief coursing through me at the sight of him.
I scan him from head to toe, my eyes lingering on his lips before I drag them down his chest, his stomach, his…
I lift my gaze back to his face.
He looks … fine.
The white shirt he’s wearing is stretched taut over his broad shoulders, and as usual, two of his buttons are undone. A gold chain hangs loosely on his neck, the pendant is a cross and I realise that I haven’t seen it before. I wonder where he got it from.
My eyes drift over his neck, tracing the outline of his tattoos with my eyes. My pinky twitches by my side. I want to touch them again.
“You’re back” The words leave me in a puff of air, and all too soon, I immediately feel the burning sensation of rage building in my chest.
I feel the lid on my emotions tighten, then snap, sending everything spilling over.
“Did you miss me?” His voice is low, rough, almost teasing as he leans back in the seat, one hand resting casually on the armrest while the other moves to undo the cufflinks on his shirt.
I twist my thumb, “Hardly.” I reply dryly.
He glances in my direction, and the curve at the corner of his lips drops as he looks at me.
“Get in Solnyshko,” He says, his tone no longer teasing.
“You’re so unbelievable,” I hiss, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. “You disappear for a week without any explanation, and then you come back and expect me to just follow your orders like some obedient little wife?”
I turn to Benjamin, my eyes blazing, “Please take him home first. You can come back for me later or send another car. I don’t care. All I know is that I’m not getting into the same car as this lunatic.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Benjamin says, shifting one foot In front of the other.
I lift a brow, “And why the hell not”
“Because Solnyshko”, Nikolai interjects from the back seat, his eyes locked on me, “He works for me, not you and I suggest you don’t piss me off any further and get in while I’m still being nice.”
The fuck?
Piss him off?
Oh, he hasn’t even begun to see what pissing off looks like.
“Fine, then I guess I’ll be going home myself.”
I spin on my heels, but just as I’m about to start walking, he speaks again.
“I swear to God, Solnyshko, if you don’t get into this car in the next five seconds, I’m going to throw you over my lap and spank your ass so raw you won’t be able to sit for days without thinking about me.”
I gasp, my eyes widening in horror. I glance at Benjamin who looks away, a faint pink hue staining his cheeks.
Oh God.
“One”
Is he counting
“Two”
Fuck, I think he’s serious.
“Three,”
I bite the inside of my cheek, weighing in my mind how fast I need to run if I am going to be able to get away from him.
“Four”
Not fast enough, my brain determines and I look at him exhaling sharply,
“Fine”
I exclaim and get into the car, slamming the door behind me so hard, the windows rattle. Nikolai doesn’t even flinch, his gaze remains trained on me as he watches me settle into the seat beside him. I look up at him to find a smug grin on his lips and I glare at him.
“Happy?” I ask, staring daggers at him.
“Ecstatic.”