Page 62 of Brutal Secrets

“Maybe that’s why I like bears. Because I’m Russian,” Nadia says, and he huffs out a laugh.

I begin the story. “Can’t you sleep, little bear?”

“No, Mama.”

“Well, the darkness is nothing to be scared of. It’s where the woods keep the moon and the stars.” I launch into the well-worn treads of a story I’ve told Nadia a hundred times about a bear who can’t sleep because she’s scared of the dark. I repeat the hypnotic words and familiar lines, ending on the closing stanza. “But the little bear didn’t say anything because she was fast asleep.”

A soft snore, barely loud enough to hear, drifts over from the pile of bedclothes.

“Does she always snore like that?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Baby snuffling snores like a cartoon character? Yep. It’s the cutest thing, isn’t it?”

He eases off the bed, letting her little body slide out of his arms, and comes to sit next to me. He takes my hand in his. This action is more intimate than the sex we had earlier.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” he rumbles, his Russian accent strong as he strokes his fingers across mine.

“Me neither,” I whisper, holding back the questions about Nona, the Night Governor, the men who are chasing us. I drink in these quiet moments. There will be time for all of that later.

“I thought about you a lot over the years.”

I lift my head from his shoulder and try to pick out his features in the darkness, but we’re facing away from the window, so I’m left uncertain about his expression. How he really feels. I wish I wasn’t such an open book for this man.

“Well, I think I revealed my hand with the house, if you hadn’t already guessed from the songs.” I can hear the embarrassment in my voice.

He presses a kiss to my head and then moves lower so our foreheads are pressed together. His breath mingles with mine. I can’t see him look at me, but I feel the weight of his gaze. So close. After all these years, he’s really here.

“Thank you,” he says.

“For what?” My voice is a whisper against the column of his throat. He still smells of salt and pine woods. I remember the silence of the woods. The soft light of the snow. The way he touched me.

“For being a wonderful mother and allowing me a little slice of happiness with you tonight. I will treasure it.” He makes it sound like a goodbye.

Pulling away from him, I lie down on the bed. He stretches out beside me, his head resting on his left arm. The light from the parking lot spears through thin drapes. Stripes of light and darkness paint our bodies and the space between them.

“Does your arm hurt?” I look over at his face, the sharp lines of his cheekbones and the square angles of his jaw. There is so much of him in our daughter. No wonder I couldn’t forget him.

“Not too much. I’ve had worse.”

“Do you need more painkillers? I’ve probably got some in my bag.” I start to rise, but he stretches his wounded arm to push me back to the bed, wincing slightly.

“I’d rather stay sharp. I don’t want to be foggy if something happens.” He sighs, and the exhaustion is clear in every line of his body.

I roll over to face him, feeling the heat of his skin. “Rest. Please. We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“Better to be careful. I thought we’d be okay at your place.”

He turns to me, and I can see his face in the florescent light. Dappled moonlight casts gold and silver patterns across his skin.

“Nadia brought back memories,” he says. I could listen to anything in that accent and it would sound better. “They used to replay these old Soviet-style cartoons when we were little. I sometimes watched them in the orphanage with the younger kids. Reminded me of something happier.”

“I didn’t know you grew up in an orphanage.”

“I didn’t get there till I was ten. That’s where I met Sasha and Polina. Their grandparents were still alive, but they couldn’t handle him. I was a bit softer. Had a more normal life than he did before I got there. I’d never have survived if not for him. He’s a natural gangster, but I was bigger.”

“And Polina?”

He breathes out a long sigh. “She was a sweet kid. We grew up together and I always protected her. Until I couldn’t.”