“Nikolai will take you home.” He touches my elbow then pulls his hand back like he’s afraid to touch me.
It feels wrong even though it’s what I just asked for.
“Thank you,” I whisper. The two words encompass so much-gratitude for what we shared and goodbye.
He shakes his head like he’s not accepting it, but Nikolai pulls up the ramp like he knew the plan, and Dima walks to the passenger side and opens the door for me.
I get in without a word.
Leaving the cabin felt like a test, but this time, it’s really over.
Dima
After lying on my bed staring at the ceiling all night, I stay in my bedroom instead of going to the kitchen in search of breakfast.
I can’t be around anyone. I want to throat-punch Ravil and Maxim for coming up with any plan that involved putting Natasha in danger.
Bozhe moi, I will never get the image of that gun at her head out of my brain.
And knowing it was my fault?
Ruins me.
She didn’t want to go, and I made her. And look how it turned out.
I sink onto my bed and stare into the darkness.
The worst of it? Natasha thinks I used her. That literally makes me want to shoot my nuts off. She compared me to Pamela Harrison.
Nothing could be farther from the truth.
She was never my fall-back girlfriend. It wasn’t a love-the-one-you’re-with situation. Not even close. She rocked my world the moment I first met her.
Maybe that’s what scared me so badly.
I didn’t want her to mean more to me than Alyona had because that, even more than the promise I’d made to her, made me feel unfaithful.
And now I can’t even tell Natasha any of those things because she asked me to respect her wishes and stay away.
I couldn’t have fucked things up more with her.
The irony isn’t lost on me that I wasn’t ready to open my heart until the day she closed hers.
I’m not giving up, but I don’t have a fucking clue where to start.
I can’t hack back into her heart. I can’t solve this one behind my computer.
I’m not lame enough to try to text her how I feel. I need to show her somehow. But what would prove I’m not using her? That I’ve changed and I’m ready to go all in?
I have absolutely no fucking clue.
It’s possible I need help. Honestly, I’d rather throw myself down the elevator shaft than go bare my soul to my roommates, but maybe one of the women can tell me what to do.
That’s it, I just need someone to tell me what to do.
I head into the main living area of the penthouse, which seems like a foreign place after spending the week with Natasha. It’s familiar, but wrong.
All wrong.
“You look like shit,” Maxim observes. He and Sasha are in the kitchen in their running clothes with their hands all over each other. “Seriously. You look as bad as Nikolai.”
“Thanks.” I drift toward the breakfast bar, inviting more abuse.
“So what’s the story with Natasha?” Sasha demands. She’s not the type to ever stay out of anyone’s business, but for once, I’m almost grateful for the intrusion.
Still, I have no answer. I shrug, weakly.
“She said you preferred a ghost over a living, breathing woman. What gives?”
I shake my head then nod. That assessment kills me, but to Natasha, probably seems accurate. No wonder she feels like the fall-back friend.
“I said goodbye to my ghost,” I tell Sasha, my voice cracking. I plunk down on the barstool in front of her. “But I think it was too late. Now she won’t talk to me.”
Story and Oleg emerge from their bedroom and gather behind me, both of them projecting kindness and sympathy. At the same time, Lucy emerges from Ravil’s bedroom in a short robe, baby Benjamin cooing on her hip.
I realize with a pang that nearly takes my breath away, how much I want what Ravil has-the woman he loves and a baby they adore. The whole package. A sweet little nuclear family. Something none of us ever thought we’d have. The women that have come into the lives of my brothers here have brought enough sweetness to counteract some of the stain of the bratva from our souls. I want Natasha’s sweetness. I want the whole package with her.
“When Natasha was new to America, she had a neighbor who was only friends with her when they were at home. At school, she was too Russian to associate with.”
Sasha pulls a horrified face, always the thespian.
“She compared me to that friend.”
Lucy sits the baby on the edge of the breakfast bar, and Sasha instantly reaches for him. “So you need to prove to her that she’s not a friend of convenience,” she sums up.
I turn to her, grateful for her logic. “Yes. But she won’t talk to me.”
“So you’ll have to show her.”
“It should be public,” Sasha weighs in. “Something big.” Of course, Sasha’s flare for the dramatic always comes into play.
But everyone else seems to agree.
“Yes. Public and big,” Maxim repeats.
“A billboard,” Story suggests.
Oleg signs something, and I watch. It’s a little fast for me to pick up. “Something she can see?” I try to interpret.
“Something she can see from her window!” Story fills me in. “Yes! A giant banner hung on the building across the way. How would you go about that?”
I frown. Fuck if I know. If it can’t be accessed with technology, I’m at a total loss.
“I can try to find the building owner,” Maxim offers.
“What about one of those airplanes that flies with the banner behind it?” Sasha suggests.
“Yes,” I agree. It feels right. “All of that.” I spread my hands. It’s not like me to ask for help. I’m usually the one offering it, but I’m way out of my depth here. “Can you help me?”
“Of course.” Lucy smiles. “We can figure this all out.”