Page 81 of Emerald Vices
A second later, the door swings open. Misha’s eyes are red-rimmed and his lower lip has been chewed raw. “You did what to who?”
I sweep past him before he can stop me and join Remi on the bed. With a sigh, Misha snaps the door shut and leans against his bedpost. “Was it the man who abducted you?”
“Yes, but that’s not why I punched him. I punched him because he suggested we leverage you to make a deal with Nikolai.”
Misha blinks, his chin quavering for only a second before he catches himself.
“He thought you were his golden ticket to freedom, but I wasn’t about to stand by and let him use you like a commodity.”
“I’m no commodity.” He drops his eyes to the floor. “I’m worthless.”
My heart cracks, but I hold the pieces together and offer him my hand. “Come sit by me.”
“I shouldn’t be here. I don’t deserve—” He looks around the room as though this level of comfort is too good for him. “—any of this.”
“Did you hear what I said about the brass knuckles? I can knock some sense into you if I need to.”
Finally, a smile pokes through the anxiety. “Did you really do that?”
“Sure did. It felt great, too. I felt powerful—and you know what? I would never have been able to do it if it weren’t for you.”
He frowns.
“I’m serious, Misha. I would do anything for you. It’s the nature of being a mother.”
His bottom lip trembles. “My mother didn’t always jump to defend me,” he admits, sitting down on the very corner of the bed.
“Because she knew that getting involved would only make things worse for you,” I suggest with more conviction than I have any right to feel. I don’t know the woman from Adam, but I feel confident in my assumptions. “But she did protect you, in her own way. She made sure to be on Nikolai’s good side. You were the only boy on the compound with sneakers, remember?” I clutch his forearm. “Your mother was a brave woman, Misha. She did what she could to protect you with the tools at her disposal.”
A tear slips down Misha’s cheek. Then another, and another, until he’s full-on crying and I can’t hold myself back anymore.
I pull him into my arms. His head crashes on my lap and he sobs as Remi licks his hand. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it out. Let it all out.”
With every sob, my heart forms a new crack. But I just hold him tighter, whispering words of comfort into his ear, hoping that my arms will keep him together the same way Andrey’s did for me.
When Misha’s crying finally subsides, his eyes are red and puffy and his cheeks are stained with tears. “I’m sorry.”
I cup his face. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
He bites his lip, though the poor thing is already shredded to ribbons. “Is… is Andrey mad?”
“Of course not!”
He flinches. “But I’m his enemy’s son.”
“You didn’t ask to be.”
“But… I’ve done things, Natalia,” he insists. “I’ve done things I shouldn’t have done because of Nikolai?—”
“It doesn’t matter. You were trying to survive. We all do things we’re not proud of when it comes to life or death. You didn’t have a choice, Misha. Neither did your mother. Andrey knows that.”
He keeps scratching at his own bleeding lip.
“Misha,” I say, drawing his eyes to mine, “what is it?”
“My own father couldn’t care about me,” Misha whispers. “Why would Andrey?”
I have to bite down on my tongue to keep myself from sobbing like a baby. Be strong for him, Natalia. Be strong.