Elena. Roman held her image in his mind as he showered. The heat of the water was soothing against his skin as he considered her.
Had he already gotten too close? Initially, he’d just wanted to keep an eye on her. But the more time they spent together, the more Roman found himself growing to like her. Now that they’d shared an intimate night together, there was no going back. Her pain and vulnerability tugged at Roman’s heart in a way he’d never experienced before.
He would drive her to see her mother and keep an eye on her as best he could. Even though he trusted her now, Roman still feared the potential for his feelings for Elena interfering with his ability to perform his duties for Viktor.
Only time would tell, he decided as he stepped out of the shower. For now, he would tend to her. And if a problem arose, he would take care of it, just as he always had.
12
Elena
Anticipation twisted in Elena’s gut as they pulled up to Croft Estates. From the outside, the assisted living facility looked almost lavish. A large ornate water fountain splashed in oscillating patterns just beyond the front gate, and the building itself reminded Elena of a large white manor house. Perhaps her mother had been living in comfort despite the unfortunate circumstances, Elena thought to herself as Roman parked.
“You’re sure you’re going to be okay?” He looked over at her.
Elena paused for a moment to find words. What could she say? No, she wasn’t sure she was going to be okay, because even though this place looked promising, she didn’t know how things were going to go. Excitement and dread both danced in her stomach and made her palms sweat.
“I’ll be fine,” she said at last, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you again for driving me, and thank you again for letting me do this on my own terms.”
“You’re welcome. Just… just know that you aren’t alone, okay? Whatever happens, I’m here for you.”
“Thank you, Roman.” She gave him a peck on the cheek, then exited the car.
The walk from the parking lot to the front door made her feel like she’d come to the end of a marathon. Elena’s legs were trembling, her knees wobbly, and she clutched her purse to her chest almost protectively. While her body might not have been moving all that quickly, her mind raced, questioning what she would say, how she would react, what she might ask... Half of her expected to find a scene of horror, with her mother sitting neglected in a dark, suffocating space, while the other half of her foresaw a clean, pleasant facility where her mother was well cared for and truly happy.
Did her father visit? Elena wondered if he had simply dumped her mother here to rot alone, or if he slipped in from time to time and checked up on her. She sincerely hoped her dad had visited, just so that her mom wouldn’t have been forgotten completely, but her gut told her otherwise.
Her father was a man of utility, rooted in ‘the real world’ and usefulness. Once something was no longer of use to him, he discarded it without mercy. Elena recalled him chastising her for wasting her time reading Goosebumps books as a child instead of ‘learning something useful.’
Her mother had struggled with MS for as long as Elena could remember. Right around the time she had ‘died,’ Elena recalled her mother being unable to get out of bed without help, and unable to walk without a walker. Her father’s attitude about usefulness must have extended to her mother, much to Elena’s chagrin, and she wasn’t holding out hope that her father had done more than push her aside, now that she knew her mother was alive.
It was too easy to fall into ruminating on her dad, on blaming him, and let the hurt fester, so Elena forced her thoughts back to the present. She was here for a reason, and she would see it through.
The staff buzzed her into the front doors. She signed in at the front desk and asked about her mother.
“Raisa Popov? Yes, she’s here. To be honest, I’m a little surprised to see someone visiting her.”
Elena’s heart sank, despite her mental preparations.
“She doesn’t have many guests?” Elena asked even though she already knew the answer.
“Not a single one who’s come here just to see her. We get the charities, the churches, and even the occasional school field trip down to put on shows or do something to brighten the day for our residents, of course, but you’re the first one who’s signed in for Raisa.”
Elena forced down a lungful of stale air and willed herself not to let dread show on her face. No matter what the circumstances, she had to stay strong. Her mother deserved that much from her after such a long time spent apart.
“Well, I’m here now,” she said with a laugh she hoped didn’t come across as uneasy. “Do I need to wait for someone to, um, escort me, or can I just… go find her myself?”
“Someone will escort you,” the receptionist said. “The staff has already been notified. Someone will be here briefly.”
“Thanks.”
Elena cast a glance across the lobby and through the windows of the reinforced doors leading into the building’s interior. There was no question that the facility was well-maintained and high class, but there was still a sterile, uncomfortable feeling to it.
It’s a prison, she thought to herself, crossing one arm over her chest nervously. It’s done up prettily and maintained, and the staff is soft-spoken and always smiling, but it’s still a prison. And my father put my mother here for life…
A pang of regret and frustration clenched in Elena’s chest. She understood that her father was the kind of man who got shit done when it needed to be done, and who didn’t tolerate anything less than excellence, but to do this? To the woman he’d supposedly loved?
She wondered what he would have done to her if she’d proved less than useful… or what he’d think if he discovered that she’d fallen into bed with the Sokolov driver. Roman was far from being the powerful, dominant leader that her father had always told her she’d end up marrying—in station if not in personality. She had a feeling that, if her father found out, there would be consequences.
How had she never seen that side of him before?
A young man in scrubs arrived in the lobby. He smiled politely at Elena, greeted her quietly, and then led her through the reinforced doors and into the interior of the facility. It looked like an apartment building, Elena thought as they walked. The doors were numbered and cheerful enough. There were seasonal wreaths on some of them, and children’s artwork on others. Grandchildren, she imagined, who had come to visit.
The door they came to a stop in front of was barren, however. Elena’s heart dropped into her stomach. All of the cheer was sucked out of the atmosphere around her, leaving the same sterile, captive feeling she’d experienced back in the lobby.
The young man knocked politely on the door. A few moments later, it opened. A woman in pink scrubs stood in the doorway. She looked at the young man, then glanced at Elena in surprise. “A visitor?”
“For Raisa.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded and stepped back from the door. Elena took it as her cue to enter. She stepped over the threshold, eyeing the nurse. The shock on her face had turned to something much more like anger, and Elena got the feeling that she wasn’t welcome here. It wasn’t enough to deter her from seeing her mother, but it left her uncomfortable. Did her mother feel this way all the time, as she felt now, like a nuisance? Was she suffering here, feeling like she wasn’t wanted?
Elena let out a breath slowly through her nose in an attempt to ground herself, then stepped into the small living room down the entryway hall from the front door. The room was hardly larger than her closet, and there was a musty smell in it, like the windows had never been opened. A small television was on, airing a gameshow episode, and there, seated on the couch in front of it, was a frail woman whom Elena barely recognized. Her skin was wizened and thin, almost transparent. Once thick hair had thinned and whitened over time. Bony hands capped knobby knees, mostly hidden by plain pajama pants. But the arch of her nose? Th
e rigidity in her posture? Elena recognized it. Her mother was still in there somewhere, trapped in the skin of someone who looked thirty years older than she should have appeared.
She didn’t look at Elena as Elena entered the room.
“Mom?” Elena asked, barely finding the courage to speak. “Mom? It’s me.”
No response. Her mother’s gaze remained glued to the screen.
“Mom?” Elena tried again. Her voice cracked. “It’s me… Elena. Your daughter.”
Nothing.
Elena looked over her shoulder at the nurse in the pink scrubs, who stood with her arms crossed just a short distance down the hall. The young man who’d escorted Elena to the room seemed to have gone.
“What’s wrong with her?” Elena asked, her voice wavering. “MS is a physical disease, isn’t it? Why… why does she look so old? Why isn’t she responding?”
“There are several other diseases that Raisa has been diagnosed with since coming to stay here with us,” the nurse replied. “Comorbidity is common in MS. It’s just how it is.”
There was a snide tone in the nurse’s voice that struck Elena’s ears in the wrong way, and Elena clicked on to what was happening at once. She’d told enough lies in her life to recognize when one was being told to her—especially if the liar wasn’t particularly good at it. Elena turned to look at her mother again, who was only now moving her head to look in Elena’s direction. The slow, stiff way she moved was almost corpse-like. Someone was doing this to her. It wasn’t natural—the tailspin was too fast, and her symptoms too extreme.
She’s a living corpse. Father left her here to die, and she’s decaying while she’s still alive…
“Mom?” Elena asked again now that she had her mother’s attention. “Mom, it’s me, Elena.”
“Who?” Her mother’s voice wasn’t the same one she remembered—it was a husk of what it had been, a raspy, withered thing that no longer bore any of its former beauty.
“Your daughter,” Elena stressed. “Do you remember me? Please, you have to remember.”
“Who?” This time, it was spoken with distress. Her mother’s sunken eyes darkened with fear, and she pushed herself into the back corner of the couch as though recoiling. “Who are you?”
“I’m sorry that we left you here all alone for so long,” Elena said, a sob catching in her throat as she tried to speak clearly. Tears slid down her cheeks. “I didn’t know you were here. I didn’t know you were alive. I would have come to see you if I’d known. I swear.”
“Who are you?” The warble in her mother’s voice tore Elena’s heart in two. It spoke of distress, confusion, and terror. Something was wrong here, Elena knew in her heart—the care she was receiving wasn’t right. There was no way she would have decayed like this if she’d been receiving proper treatment. It wasn’t right.
Had her father been paying them to let her die? Elena didn’t want to think it, but the thought wormed its way into her mind and refused to be wrested free.
“You’re going to have to go,” the nurse in the pink scrubs said. She stepped forward, then around Elena, backing her down the hall toward the front door. “You’re upsetting Raisa, and she’s delicate enough as it is. You need to leave.”
“I’m her daughter,” Elena uttered, dumbfounded. “All I want is to see her.”
“And if you’d wanted that, you would have come years ago. Now, get out.” The nurse broadened her stance, blocking off the path to her mother. Elena blinked away the last of her tears, then shook her head and left. If she tried to fight, she’d be detained by security. She couldn’t let that happen.
If she caused a fuss and the staff notified her father that there had been a disturbance in her mother’s room, what would he think? Would he track her down and take her out of the picture, just like he had his wife?
Would she never see her mother again?
Elena had never hurt like this before. All her life, she’d lived defensively, certain that only the members of her family could be trusted. As much as she despised her father for what he’d done, it looked like he was right about one thing, at least.
Without the walls around her heart, she was weak. If she wanted to stay at the Sokolov mansion, see her mission through, and stick around long enough to find a way to save her mother, she’d have to close herself off again. Falling for Roman had torn her open. She couldn’t afford the vulnerability that feelings for him forced upon her.
Right now, she had to be stronger than ever… even if that meant closing herself off to Roman for good.
Elena brushed tears away from her cheeks as she headed down the hall in the direction of the reinforced doors. Unlike the men and women in this facility, she still had her freedom… at least for now. She needed to make sure she kept it.
13
Roman
Elena swept out the front doors and crossed the walkway so briskly that Roman knew something was wrong. He’d watched her body language on the way into the building in much the same way he so often watched Viktor’s—posture and gait revealed more than words often could, and reading body language had saved Roman’s life not just since he’d been working for the Sokolovs, but during his military days, as well. Right now, Elena’s body language told him that whatever she’d seen had jarred her, and the tension running through her body indicated she was barely keeping herself together.
He popped the locks before she arrived at the vehicle, and she opened the door herself and sank down onto the seat. When the door was closed, he activated the locks and remained where they were parked. “What happened?”
“Can you please just drive?” she asked. “I just… I don’t want to be here right now.”
“Were you able to see your mother?” he pressed.
“Are you wearing earplugs?” Elena demanded.
Roman barely held back a retort of his own. Her walls were back up, he realized belatedly, and lashing out was how she protected herself. Now that he’d seen into who she was behind her defenses, he knew better than to be insulted by her tone of voice. This was her armor—he had to be skilled enough to strip it from her piece by piece.
She growled, “We. Need. To. Go.”
He leaned toward her, asking next, “Did someone in there hurt you?”
“God.” She scrubbed at her eyes. “No one hurt me, okay? It was a happy, fun time full of rainbows and sunshine, and the staff all burst into an Oscar-nominated musical number about the joys of family reunions. Now, can you please just drive? You’re my chaufferone, not my therapist.”
The term of endearment meant little when it came fired with such hostility. Roman held steady, though, not letting her get under his skin. He’d just have to give her time. “I’ll drive,” he relented, “but I want to help you get over whatever it is you’re feeling. You don’t have to hurt alone.”
“You are so… ugh!” Elena let her head hit the headrest. She dropped her hands from her face, and Roman saw that her eyes were red and puffy from crying. “Roman?”
“Yes?”
“Listen. Maybe the last little while has given you the wrong impression about me.” She lifted her head and looked at him directly through the rearview mirror. He watched her, silent. Even when she cried, she was beautiful… if only she’d let go of the bitterness in her heart, she would be radiant. “We’ve had some fun together, but only because you’ve been sticking your nose in my business every other second. When you won’t leave me alone, it’s kind of hard to have nothing to do with you, you know?”
Roman said nothing. Silence, he felt, was more valuable than words.
“You,” Elena said, the venom in her words growing more potent, “are an underling. A driver. You’re not even a Sokolov. You’re a stray dog that Viktor took in because you had nowhere else to go. You have no worth. You have no value. If it came down to it, Viktor would let you go in a heartbeat. He had no real use for you. All he does is pity you.”
“You’re upset,” Roman said, doing his best to keep his voice strip
ped of emotion. “Something happened in there, and you’re lashing out. It’s okay to be upset—what isn’t okay is to lash out at those trying to help you.”
Elena glared at him. He watched through the rearview mirror as her bottom lip trembled. Then, out of nowhere, she burst into tears. Warbling sobs rolled in her throat and broke through her lips. Her defenses were done—now it was up to him to make sure she understood that he would act as her shield.
“You’re so stupid!” she sobbed through her tears. “I-I can’t believe you’re this dumb. Can you please just drive, Roman? Please? I don’t want to be here anymore!”
Roman shifted out of park and into drive, and rolled away from the walkway. They progressed back down the long driveway toward the street.
“I’m here for you, Elena,” he told her as he drove. “I don’t know what happened, and it’s your prerogative to keep whatever happened to yourself, but I want you to know that, if you want to talk, I’m here to listen. You aren’t alone.”
Elena sobbed harder than before. She covered her face with her hands and curled up, resting her elbows on her knees while she remained seated. Every time she sobbed, her body trembled. The pain she was suffering from was real, so strong it was physical, and, for a moment, he wondered if she’d gone into the nursing home to find she was too late, and that her mother had already passed.
“H-how am I not alone?” she managed to demand through her sobbing. “I went in there a-and… and you don’t know what I saw!”
“I would if you’d tell me,” he answered too quickly.
“You jerk!” She sat up straight again, tears rushing down her face. “You’re so insensitive. Even my father has more sense than you, and you know what? Today, I found out he’s a monster!”
Falling for the Mob Soldier: Sokolov Brothers Book Two Page 7