Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
She wants sex from me? She can have it. As much as she needs for as long as she needs. I will make it my life’s mission to ensure she gets exactly the kind of sex she needs to recover from her trauma.
But I can’t pretend that knowing her story didn’t change me. It did.
“You staying?” Lake asks me when I don’t pack up.
“Yeah. Oh, hang on, Story. I need you to use your keycard in the elevator, so I can pick Nadia up.” I unplug my guitar and shove it in its case.
“You’re picking Nadia up?”
Damn. Ty, Lake, Story, and Oleg all stare at me now, wanting the full scoop.
I shrug, forcing myself to look casual, which is usually my only way of being. “Yeah, she wants to see the burlesque show at Rue’s.”
“She does?” Story’s brow wrinkles and I suddenly realize that she might know Nadia’s story. Damn her for not telling me although I guess it’s not her story to tell. No pun intended.
“Yeah. She might make their costumes. And she wants to style us if we do another video.”
“What?” Lake asks. “What does that mean?”
“She’s a fashion designer. That’s what she did in Russia. She has ideas for the band.” I don’t know why, but it seems desperately important that I help define Nadia as something other than a victim to everyone around her.
“That’s cool,” Ty says.
“Wow, I didn’t know that,” Story says, getting in the elevator with Oleg. I follow them on. Ty and Lake wait for one going down.
When the doors shut, Oleg inserts his key card and presses the button for Nadia’s floor. When the elevator starts, Oleg signs something to me.
I look to Story for interpretation, but she makes an impatient sound. “You won’t learn if you don’t try, Flynn,” she says. Oleg, her giant bratva fiance, had his tongue cut out by his old boss. Story has insisted that we all–Oleg included–learn American Sign Language, so we can communicate with him.
I’m not around him enough to have picked much up yet.
“Okay, try it again,” I say, watching intently.
The elevator stops on Nadia’s floor. Oleg blocks my path and repeats the sign.
The only thing I recognize is the sign for sorry.
“He says, sorry, but he has to accompany you until he knows you’re authorized to be there since it was his keycard.”
“Huh,” I mutter. The three of us walk down the hall together. “Let me ask you this, Oleg. If Adrian tries to beat my ass for taking Nadia out again, whose side are you on?”
Oleg’s face remains impassive, which is normal for him. I know it drives Story crazy because it’s part of his non-communicative thing. When he catches Story looking at him expectantly, he signs something.
“He says he won’t let Adrian hurt you.”
“Okay, I wasn’t asking for a bodyguard. I was just wondering if I had to worry about two of you now.”
“Oleg wouldn’t hurt you,” Story says immediately.
I’m sure she believes that. I know Oleg would never hurt her, and that sentiment may extend to me as her brother, but I also suspect bratva loyalties run deep.
I knock on Nadia’s door, and Adrian answers it with a glower. “I brought Oleg to kick your ass if you punch me again,” I say.
Adrian’s gaze jerks to Oleg’s.
“Just kidding. He’s here because I’m not allowed to roam free in the Kremlin.”
Adrian lifts his chin at Oleg, which I interpret to mean that he’s taking over the watch now. It’s funny how just because Oleg doesn’t speak, people don’t speak much to him, either. I think it drives Story crazy. That’s why she pushes us all to learn sign language.
“Did you punch Flynn?” Story asks, sounding shocked. She searches my face, her gaze locating the yellowing bruise on my jaw.
“Uh uh,” I cut off her questioning. “I don’t need you to stick up for me.” I lean over and kiss the top of her head because my big sister is much shorter than I am. “You guys can go now–bye,” I say pointedly.
Adrian steps into the hallway and shuts the door like I’m not allowed in their apartment.
Aw, fuck. Is he going to try to keep me from seeing her altogether?
“I’m not going to apologize for hitting you,” he growls, which actually relaxes me. It means he at least knows he should apologize.
“Nah, you do you, bro. I understand. Nadia told me what happened.”
This changes him. I suddenly see the full weight of the horrors she endured in the lines of his face, the weight on his beefy shoulders. Just like I’d carried the weight of her pain all week–willingly. This guy’s been living with it 24/7 for so much longer than I have. Who can blame him for lashing out and trying to erase any additional stressors that come her way?
“So you see why this can’t happen–especially not with you.” He points back and forth between me and the door.