Page 3 of Vicious Knight
I can’t help it. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to breathe past the taut ropes wrapping around my soul. Everything feels like a bad omen to me.
Me, the girl with the borrowed life.
Tomorrow I’ll be making the journey from L.A. to Raventhorn University in Boston. There I’ll pursue my dreams to study and compose music.
Like most eighteen-year-olds starting their freshman year, I’ve worried about leaving my home, friends, and family. And I’ve obsessed about fitting into the place where I’ll be spending the next four years of my life.
I’m sure anyone would tell me it’s completely normal to feel this way. But what’s not normal is me.
For the last nine years I’ve lived a secret life. One where my mother and I have assumed new identities to keep us safe from the past.
This will be the first time I’ll be on my own and expected to be mindful of all those parts of my life that need to stay secret.
As if sensing the heightened shift in my mood, another flash of lightning crackles across the sky.
With a deep breath I school my thoughts and lean forward, allowing the platinum ends of my ponytail to drift over my shoulder as I play the quick-tempo bridge of my composition.
The sudden sound of footsteps in the corridor makes me lift my head. Moments later my mother and Levgen, my stepfather, appear at the door.
They’d gone out to dinner earlier with their friends. Because it’s my last night at home they wanted me to join them, but I wasn’t in the mood to socialize.
When I get worked up like this the only thing that can calm me is my music.
Mom hits me with one of her I’m-worried-about-you smiles, while Levgen gives me a hope-filled stare.
With his loose wavy hair and neatly-trimmed beard, he’s always reminded me of a blond version of Sirius Black from the Harry Potter movies.
Next to his tall, muscular stature my mother looks like a little fairy.
I look like her. I got everything from her long platinum hair to her silver-gray eyes, and her five-foot-four willowy figure.
The moment people see me they know straight away that I’m Oksana Yegorov’s daughter.
I stop playing to greet my parents and try to look like I’ve controlled my freakout.
“Hey, sweetheart, just checking on you.” Mom’s light Russian accent is a welcome sound.
She walks ahead of Levgen to give me a little hug, then keeps her gaze trained on me as if she’s trying to unlock the worries from my mind.
“You’ve been in here since before we left.” Levgen rests his hands on top of the piano and sighs.
“I’m just trying to get in some quality time. I won’t have my own piano on campus. It’s going to be strange scheduling practice time when I’m used to playing whenever I want.”
“That’s understandable, but you have a long day tomorrow. Flying across the country is exhausting enough, but you’re also going to college.”
“I promise I’ll head up to bed in a little while.”
“Alright.” A warm smile grazes his lips. “I’m going to miss you like crazy, sweet girl. The house won’t be the same without you and your beautiful music.”
I smile back at him, appreciating his love even more than I already do.
“I’ll miss you, too.” I truly mean that. Levgen has been a great stepfather to me.
My father might have taught me how to play the piano, but Levgen nurtured my musical talents. He took me to all my classes, sent me to music camp every summer, and attended every single concert with my mother at his side.
More importantly, it was Levgen who saved Mom and me in Russia when my father went to prison and became a disgraced Knight.
He was Dad’s best friend. So when Dad was found guilty of being an accomplice to a murder plot of a group of political and mafia leaders, Levgen took care of us. He gave us this new life in L.A. where we could be safe and he could provide for us.