I couldn’t even assure her, or myself, that I was.
And I doubted, if I asked her now what she thought of Nikolai, she’d say the same thing she had when she first met him. I think she knew what was becoming clear to me. I was in over my head with him. But isn’t that how it happens? By the time you realize how deep you’ve gone, it’s too late to turn around and go back. You’re already drowning.
I felt like a little girl playing at being grown up.
I thought I could do it. I thought it was only about the sex. Exploring the darker side of desire. Letting him teach me things about my own body, and show me how freeing it could be to give up control to someone else.
What I hadn’t counted on was the intimacy of it all. I wasn’t just giving him my body. I was opening myself up to him in ways I hadn’t with anyone else. Ever. When he had me beneath him, I was flayed wide open. There was darkness there. Part of me that was so angry, so hurt and lost. The piece of me that had been whispering fuck it all, for so long. That voice that told me not to care, that life would always be like this. Hard. Ugly. Full of pain and confusion, so why try to make it anything else? People weren’t worth the effort of caring. We were all fucked up and just looking for whatever helped us cope with the world we lived in.
But underneath all that, was a girl who desperately wanted someone to prove the voice wrong. Prove me wrong. I wanted someone to make me care again.
I didn’t know that’s what I’d been waiting for until he did it.
And he didn’t do it with the sex.
It was everything else.
I don’t know why they call it falling. Falling implies that it’s sudden and fast. Hurtling a hundred miles an hour toward impact. This wasn’t that. Or maybe it was, but I was fighting the fall. Still hanging onto the ledge by my fingers, feeling gravity pulling me down, toward something terrifying. The pull got stronger and stronger every day and I grew weaker.
The secret smiles when he came into the shop. The occasional, flirty, and unexpected text message that let me know he was thinking about me.
My fingers slipped a little more.
The ice cream—my favorite flavor, loaded with chewy brownie bites, caramel gobs, and crunchie fudge clusters—he’d show up with the rare nights he came over when Eli was staying with Spence and Nora. Sneaking up the stairs with spoons, trying not to wake Grandmama, and lay in my bed and eat the entire pint. He said it was because I needed the fuel. He wasn’t wrong.
My grip weakened further.
The way he rushed over the morning I walked out of my house to find the tires on my new car slashed. He calmed me, and once again took me to the police station to file a report, even though there wasn’t much they could do for me.
It didn’t stop there. Two nights later, I came out of work to find my window smashed and the words “WHORE” and “BITCH” carved into my paint job. I drove straight to his house, too upset to go anywhere else or call anyone else. He came running outside when I called him from in front of his house because I didn’t know if Eli might be awake and if I could go in. Eli was in bed, so he brought me inside, made me coffee with whiskey, and sat with me until I could breathe without feeling like my chest was constricted. Then he took me upstairs and made me forget until morning.
The two-year anniversaries of the first girls Aaron had taken had passed. Their faces were all over the papers and in the news again, and it seemed someone was harassing me, possibly the same person who’d cut my brake hose. I was a mess, but when Nikolai promised me it would be okay, and we’d figure out who was doing it and make them stop, I believed him. He made me feel safe and protected.
I slipped a little more until I was dangling by just the tips of my fingers.
Then there were the fleeting moments when we were both spent and flooded with the after effects of orgasms—usually multiple for me—and our guards were down a bit, and we’d talk.
I think I talked more than he did. But he listened.
I even opened up about Will, or Aaron, I guess even though in my head he was still Will. Yeah, I’d even found myself able to refer to him by name without disgust, nausea and crippling shame overtaking me. Nikolai’s arms were the first safe place I’d found, where I felt like, maybe, just maybe, I would be okay. I could tell him that my don’t-give-a-shit attitude was a front, and that when I told people, my friends even, that I was fine and moving on, it was a big lie.
I even admitted to him that I was hurt and a tiny bit resentful of my parents for packing up and moving cross country at a time when I was going through the hardest shit I’d ever dealt with. I was maybe even angry with them, even though they’d asked me to come and find a fresh start in Florida. It was me who insisted I didn’t need too. I’d wished they could have understood that a big change was the last thing I could handle. I just wanted to find normal again. Get back to my life, the way it had been. I didn’t want to have to move and start over, because somehow that felt like letting Will take even more from me. But how could they understand that when Nikolai was the first person I’d ever told it to?
Every once in a while, he’d share something too. Something more than just about work, or his day. He’d tell me a story from his childhood that would make me laugh, because Nikolai as a child was everything I would have expected. Precocious, curious, and rebellious.
He told me a little bit about his mom, who’d raised him as a single parent until she’d passed away his senior year of high school. I suspected losing her had a lot to do with his decision to join the military. He’d been looking for something. A purpose. A place to belong. People to belong to. He didn’t talk much about his time in the Army. Just a few stories of his and Spencer’s antics, and enough to know that there was a reason he didn’t like to talk about the rest. He had scars. Physical and non. It was the ones under the surface, the ones I couldn’t see on his skin, that were the worst. That much wasn’t hard to figure out.
I realized the man I’d taken for being cold and callous, wasn’t. You just had to look harder to see it. He was good. Better than most. An asshole at times, yes, but his sense of loyalty and honor ran deep. He’d do the hard things, the ugly things, and had done them, so that others wouldn’t have to. So they could be safe. He poured all of himself into his work because he believed it mattered. Whether it was protecting some spoiled actress, or working to stop human trafficking rings.
And here I was, pouring coffee and serving muffins to folks, feeling purposeless and like my contributions to the world were pretty insignificant.
But being with Nikolai and getting to see the man that he really was, was changing me. Each time he let me in, even though it was just a little bit, it affected me.
I started looking forward to each day instead of dreading the monotony of it. I began thinking about the future with a sense of hope instead of looking at the direction my life was heading through despondent eyes. How could I not want to let go when he made me feel this way?
I found myself wanting things out of life again, instead of settling for the way it was.
One of the things I wanted was a real relationship with Nikolai.
Only, I was pretty sure I couldn’t have it.
Nikolai was the one who made all the rules. This was his game, and he didn’t want the same things I was beginning to. I don’t think he saw the two of us going anywhere beyond whatever we were doing. I didn’t know if he felt anything more for me at all, because even though we did talk, we didn’t talk about us. I was terrified that if I brought it up, he’d figure out I wanted more from him, and then I wouldn’t have any of him at all. I wasn’t ready for this to stop.
I knew eventually it would have to. I couldn’t keep going like this, pretending not to feel what I did, forever. And how much longer until this got old for him? Desire would fade if there wasn’t something more, something real, underneath it all, that held two people together. If I let go, I knew that at the end of the fall, it would be painful. That was the only thing that kept me hanging on.<
br />
It was clear to me that he didn’t want me in his life any more than I was. One of the ways he made that obvious was with Eli. He talked about Eli the most during our times together.
He’d tell me what kind of silly trouble he’d gotten into that day at school, or brag on how he’d done on a math test, or recap the highlights of his latest soccer match now that he was on a team. Hearing the pride in his voice and seeing the love on his face, I think was what got me the most. He loved fiercely and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for that boy. It was enough to make any woman turn into a pile of goo.
Yet, as much as I loved hearing him talk about his son, it also killed me, because hearing about Eli was the only way Nikolai let me into his son’s life. He hadn’t budged on me spending time with Eli. In fact, the more complicated and intense things became between us, the more determined he seemed not to let it, or me, anywhere near Eli. Occasionally, he’d bring him into the shop for a treat, and I’d get to see him for a few minutes, but I missed him. I missed playing board games, and Xbox, and fighting invisible ninjas, and letting him kick the soccer ball at my face twenty times in a row so he could practice shooting goals.
Every time I broached the idea of me spending time with him to Nikolai, he shut me down. I could only have one of the Markov men in my life. And I couldn’t even have him fully, because if he wasn’t willing to share the most important thing in his world with me, it was pretty obvious that he didn’t consider me a part of his world.
I wished I could be okay with that, and I tried to be, because I was happy with what I had with Nikolai. I think I was anyway. I mean, I didn’t want it to stop, but I also wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep being his secret. Not even our friends knew what we were doing. He said that was also better for everyone. Less complicated. Less messy. To me, it just made us feel less . . . real.
Fifteen
Cassie
“Shit.” My keys and coffee cup slipped from my grasp and hit the pavement as I fumbled to retrieve my ringing phone from the bottom of my purse before I missed the call. Coffee splattered my suede boots, but I managed to find my phone and hit answer in time. The number had no name attached to it, so I was going to be pissed if I’d just lost my coffee for a wrong number or a telemarketer.
“Hello.” I bent to pick up my keys and the disposable cup.
“Hello, is this Cassie Rogers?”
“It is,” I said warily.
“This is Ms. Dunn, the vice principal at Columbia Elementary.” Immediately, I was concerned.
“Is this about Eli? Is everything okay?”
“We haven’t been able to reach Mr. Markov or his emergency contacts, Mr. and Mrs. Shaw, but we have you down on our safe pick-up list and were hoping you could come down to the school and get Eli.”
“What’s going on?” I was already climbing into my car.
“Eli got into a fight with another student on the playground today. We’ll give the full report to Mr. Markov once we’re able to get in contact with him, but Eli is being suspended for the remainder of the week.”
“Is he hurt?”
“He’s fine,” she replied curtly. “Will you be able to come down to the school?”
“I’m on my way right now. I should be there in ten minutes.”
“Thank you.”
It didn’t even take seven minutes to get from the coffee shop to the school, but that was probably because I wasn’t obeying the city’s posted speed laws. I was freaking out a little bit. I tried to call Nikolai twice myself on the drive over, but both times it went straight to voicemail. Next, I called Nora at the shop and told her what was going on. She put me on hold, so she could try to reach Spencer, but came back and said she couldn’t get through to him either.
“Okay, I guess I’ll just get him from the school then. If you hear from either of them, you can let them know Eli is with me.”
He was waiting for me in the school office, sitting in a chair, staring at his lap, and kicking his feet, outside of Ms. Dunn’s office. He looked up when I walked in, and his bored expression became embarrassed and nervous. He was also sporting the beginnings of a bruise on his cheek, his bottom lip was split and swollen, and there was dried blood around it. One knee of his jeans was also ripped and dirty.
This was fine?
I was pretty sure this was not the state in which he’d arrived at school this morning.
“Hey, kiddo,” I said reassuringly. “You okay?”
He nodded, but ducked his eyes.
“Are you Cassie?”
A severe woman in a khaki skirt and school polo appeared in the doorway of the office. Nothing about her seemed warm or kind. I decided right away not to like this woman.
“I am.”
“Thank you for coming down here. We’ll just need you to sign Eli out and then you can take him.”
“Hold on,” I said. “He looks a little less than fine.”
“He was checked out by our school nurse, I assure you he’s okay,” she huffed, as if annoyed that this was taking up more of her precious time.
“And the other student?” I asked.
“Has already been picked up by his parents.”
“Who started the fight? Has the other boy been suspended as well?”
“As you are not Eli’s parent or guardian, I can’t tell you anything else regarding the situation. I’ll be happy to talk further with his father if he’s able to return my call,” she clipped snootily.
I couldn’t help myself and I gave the woman a dirty look before I turned to Eli, “Come on, kiddo.”
He stood up dejectedly, grabbed his backpack from the floor and then shuffled to my side, staring at the ground the entire time. He refused to look up at me, but I could see that his cheeks flamed red. I waited until we were in the car before I turned around in the driver’s seat to talk to him. He was hugging his backpack with his resting on top of it.
“You know I’m not mad at you, right?”
“You’re not?” He finally dared a peek up through his eyelashes, which were damp with tears.
“I’m not. So, you can tell me what happened, and I promise I still won’t be mad at you.”
He didn’t say anything, but at least he was looking at me. He blinked a couple times and I could see he was trying to stop the tears from falling.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
He shook his head.
“Okay, you don’t have to.” I turned back around so he wouldn’t feel pressured. “How about we go back to my house and watch cartoons until we hear from your dad?”
“Okay,” he mumbled, and then sniffled. He was breaking my heart. I didn’t know what had happened, but I had a hard time believing that sweet boy would have started a fight. The thought of someone picking on him or bullying him caused a slow rage to burn in my belly. Kids could be so mean, and I couldn’t stand the thought of them being mean to Eli.
Grandmama was out with the ladies from church when we got to the house. It was a standing, weekly lunch, so Eli and I had the house to ourselves. Even though I didn’t want it to seem like he was being rewarded, he looked so miserable that I wanted to cheer him up. And ice cream was the thing that seemed to do it. We ate our ice cream on the couch while we watched his favorite channel.
Part way through the second episode of a show about two brothers who explore the animal kingdom, he finally opened up, “It was Robbie Thompson.” I almost didn’t hear him he spoke so softly.
“What, bud?”
“Robbie Thompson is the kid I got in a fight with.”
“Is he in your class?”
He nodded.
“Did he start the fight?” I fully expected another nod, but this time Eli shook his head.
“I did. I pushed him first.”
“Why did you push him?”
“He was being mean to my friend Brittany.” His face scrunched up into an angry scowl as he said it.
“Why was he being mean to her?”
“Sometimes the kids make fun of her and tease her. I don’t think her family has very much money. Her clothes aren’t very nice, and some of the other kids call her smelly and dirty, and tell her she’s ugly and poor.”
I felt anger tugging at my own brow. “But she’s your friend?”
He jerked his head in a nod. “She’s nice. She was the first one to be nice to me at this school. I don’t care that she is dirty sometimes. I still like her. Most of the time, she doesn’t have lunch at school, so I share my lunch with her. I ask Dad and Nanny Marissa to put extra snacks in my lunches when they pack them, but I don’t tell them why. Dad says I must be growing.”
This kid was killing me. I could feel my eyes getting a little misty. “So, you pushed Robbie because he was being mean to Brittany? That’s what started to fight?”
His head bobbed again. “I didn’t like him saying those things to her, so I pushed him and told him to leave her alone. He fell down and that made him really mad. He got back up and said I loved her and that I was a dirty lover and that made me dirty and gross too. I told him she wasn’t gross, and then I hit him. He hit me back, and kept calling me names, so I kicked him. Then he shoved me and I fell. That’s how my pants ripped.” His fingers pulled at the frayed pieces of thread around his knee. “When I got up, we kept hitting each other until Mrs. Parker saw us and made us stop. Robbie and all the kids told her I started it.”
“Did you tell her or Ms. Dunn what happened?”
He shook his head. “They said I was in trouble and that they were calling Dad. Is he going to be real mad?” More tears pooled in his eyes.
I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I don’t think he will. Fighting isn’t the way you should solve problems, but you did the right thing standing up to him to defend your friend.”
“I know I shouldn’t have pushed him or hit him, but I was just so mad he was saying those things to Brittany and making her cry.”
“It sounds like Robbie Thompson is a bully, and sometimes the only way bullies stop picking on people is if someone makes them.”
Blackest Night (Shades of Death Book 3) Page 19