by Abbi Cook
"I just need you to listen, okay? I don't want to upset you. That's the last thing I want to do, but I need someone to talk to because my life is a mess."
"What do you mean?"
"Adam found out I've been going to see the therapist. I kept it from him because I knew he wouldn't approve, and yesterday he found out."
Claire clutches my hand and I see the real fear in her eyes. That's the same fear I used to have in my own eyes every time I looked in the mirror and worried about my husband finding out.
"Oh, Natalie. What happened? He must have been furious. I know how he thinks about things like that. Just like Mom does. How upset was he?"
I untie the blue scarf around my neck and let the ends hang as I tilt my head back for her to see the marks from where Adam's hand choked me. "That upset."
Claire's eyes fix on my throat, staring in shock as they grow bigger and bigger. "He did that to you? I can't believe it. Adam has never done anything like that to you before, has he?"
I lower my head in shame and close my eyes to stop the tears the embarrassment brings along with it. "No."
My sister gives my hand a gentle squeeze to tell me she's there for me, and it's all I need to look her in the eye once again. I don't know which is worse—having my husband in a rage try to choke the life out of me or seeing the look of pity in my sister's eyes at this moment.
"Are you okay? Do you need anything? I have some painkillers, if you need them."
Shaking my head, I struggle to keep the tears at bay. "No, I'm fine now. I just need to talk about the things that have been going on because if I don't tell someone, I worry I might go crazy."
"You can tell me anything. I won't tell anyone, not even Albert, if you don't want me to," Claire pledges, adding another squeeze of my hand to punctuate her promise.
I take another deep breath and let it out before diving into what's been going on. "I know I told you I've been having nightmares, but there have been other things too. Visions. Well, not visions. They're technically called hallucinations, even though Dr. Trevino likes to say they're waking dreams. I think he's trying to be nice by calling them that. The truth is that I'm seeing things that aren't there, entire scenes my mind has constructed with people in my life. I thought I was losing my mind, Claire, but the therapist says I'm not crazy."
Although I know I probably don't have to, I add that last sentence for my sister and for myself because if I don't remind myself at least a few dozen times a day that I'm not crazy, I begin to wonder.
Claire tears up and lowers her head when I stop talking. "You don't have to tell me you're not crazy. I know you're not."
"Well, then that was for me since I need to keep telling myself I'm not," I say with a chuckle, loving how my sister knows exactly what to say to make me smile.
"Does the doctor know why you're having these hallucinations? Is it because of your head injury?"
"He doesn't know. At first, I was thinking they were flashbacks, but for them to be that, the events in them had to happen, but I don't think they did. It's all pretty confusing, but the therapist is helping me. Was helping me. When Adam found out, he made me tell him the doctor's name, so by now, he's probably gone to him and demanded he never see me for another appointment. I can't go back there now. I'd be humiliated."
Merely hearing those words out loud makes me want to break down and cry. I had such high hopes for success with Dr. Trevino, but now all that's gone.
"What are they about? Are they scary, like nightmares?"
"No. They're more like watching a scene from a play. In one from the other day, Adam was sitting in a chair reading some papers and Mom came into the room to talk to him. He was angry at her about something in the papers, I think, and they were fighting about it. Then he walked out on her. I don't know why my mind would think that's something I should see, especially since it never happened."
Claire leans forward, as if she wants to whisper something, and asks, "Are you sure they never happened? I'm sure Adam and Mom have talked about something in the past and disagreed about it."
"I don't remember this ever happening. In the hallucination, I was sitting in a chair against the wall watching all of this, but they never acknowledged me. When would that have ever happened, and why wouldn't I remember it happening?"
"I don't know. I just figured I'd ask. I wish I knew what was going on with you, Natalie."
"Me too."
Sitting back, she asks the question that I've asked myself at least a dozen times today. "What are you going to do?"
I shrug like it's nothing I've really considered, but it's all I can think of. "I don't know. I don't know what to do or what I should do. I have no money of my own. The house is in Adam's name. So is the car. Everything is in his name. All I own is my body and my crazy mind."
My sister scowls at my mention of me being crazy, so I quickly move to make her smile by holding up my new prepaid cell phone from my purse. "And this. I own this too. I'm officially one of the burner phone crowd now."
She giggles and shakes her head at my silly comment. "You sound like one of those people on CSI. A burner phone. Only you would call it that."
"Me and criminals. Don't forget the criminals."
After a few moments of laughter, she grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. "You're not a criminal. I hope you know that. Whatever's going on, you're still the wonderful person you've always been. Remember that."
I see in her eyes real concern. I don't know what about, though. There are so many things going on with me. She has her pick of problems to worry about.
"So is what Adam did related to why you got a secret phone?"
"Secret phone," I repeat with a chuckle. The way she calls it that sounds funny. Like I'm some secret agent. "No. I got the phone because Adam took mine to get us new phones, but I only found the box for his this morning. I don't think he got me one."
Claire's eyes open wide again. "That's not right. What's gotten into him? Why is he acting like this?"
I take a deep breath in and brace myself for the rest of what I have to tell her. “Adam has been seeing another woman.”
Shaking my head, I stop myself. “Wait, that’s not where I should start. Let me start at the beginning. Adam hired someone to kill me. My accident wasn’t an accident at all. That was the first time.”
My sister covers her mouth with her hand, but the look of horror covers her entire face. “The first time? What are you talking about, Natalie?”
“My husband hired someone to kill me, but he didn’t do a good job. Then he hired a second hit man. Alexei.”
“How do you know his name?”
I try to find a gentle way to explain how much my life has spiraled out of control, but there’s no way but the truth. “I’m cheating on Adam with him. He’s the one who told me Adam hired him. I don’t know if Adam knows about the two of us, but I don’t care. If I cared before last night, I don’t care after that son of a bitch tried to choke me to death.”
“You’re sleeping with the man your husband hired to kill you?”
Taking her hand in mine, I hold it, needing something to ground me as I admit the truth about Alexei. “I know it sounds crazy, but he makes me happy, Claire. I’m not a fool, though. I know he’s a criminal. I guess we go together pretty well now since I’ve joined the burner phone clique.”
My attempt at humor falls flat, and Claire simply shakes her head in disbelief. “What if he decides to go through with the job, Natalie? I’m scared for you.”
“I can’t explain how I know he won’t, but he’s not going to hurt me. Alexei had every chance in the world in the past couple weeks to do what my husband hired him to do. He didn’t. I know it’s hard to understand, but he cares about me. I can’t explain it any other way. And I care about him too.”
She remains quiet for a long moment, and finally, she says, "This might sound like a stupid question, but why didn’t Adam just divorce you? You said he has a girlfriend, so why kill you? Why not ju
st leave?"
It’s not a stupid question at all. "I know. He holds all the cards. It's not like I even have the money to afford a divorce lawyer, if it ever came to that. He could leave and not lose one thing he has now in his life. I'm the one who'd be left with nothing, so why not just leave me?"
"Mom wouldn't let that happen. You have all her money behind you. He knows that. Maybe that’s why he didn’t just begin divorce proceedings. If he left you, he knows our mother would find you a lawyer and take him to the cleaners without batting an eyelash."
"Well, I doubt Mom would be happy to help me with divorcing Adam. She thinks the sun rises and sets on him. To hear her talk, he's the perfect husband. I don't think she's going to change her mind on that anytime soon."
Claire points at my bruises and frowns. "One look at what he did and she'll change her mind. I'd bet money on it."
Embarrassment washes over me, and I instinctively cover my neck to hide the evidence of Adam's treatment of me. "She'd probably ask me what I did to make him act like that."
"I don't think so. Our mother is many things, but tolerant of men behaving like bullies isn't one of them."
For a fleeting moment, I imagine my mother supporting me when I tell her about Adam's behavior, unlike how she defended him the last time I complained about him to her. I know my mother better than anyone, though, and a few marks on my neck aren't going to change her mind about my husband, no matter what Claire thinks.
"How did our lives get like this?" my sister asks quietly, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I wish I had the answer.
"I have no idea, especially since I can't remember huge portions of the past."
"It feels like just yesterday we were all girls living at the house with Mom, and now you're dealing with all you're going through, Tess is basically absent by choice from our lives, and I spend my days reading books about other people's lives because I'm too depressed to live my own."
Our missing sister's life remains an unspoken echo in her words, and I can't help want to tell her about Lauren's diary. Taking a moment, I think about how to describe what I've read and then say, "I was at Mom's recently and found Lauren's diary. You should see what she wrote, Claire. She was so unhappy."
"Why? And if she was that unhappy, why didn’t she come to one of us instead of just vanishing?"
"That's what I can’t stop thinking about, but I haven’t given up hope we’ll hear something soon from her."
I know that's a lame answer, but it's the only one I have at the moment and I want my sister to have something to cling to for now. Not that I’m sure we’ll ever hear from her again. I just can’t stop hoping. At least if Claire can think there’s still a chance, she might be able to find some happiness again.
At least that's what I hope.
"I better get going. Promise me you won't tell Albert or Mom about anything I said to you. Don't let them know I have this phone either, okay? But call me if you need anything. I might not be able to answer if anyone's around, but I'll call you back as soon as I can."
Crossing her heart, she smiles up at me. "Not a soul. But Natalie, promise me you’ll be careful. Between Adam and a hit man, I’m worried one of them is going to hurt you. You can always come here to stay. Don’t forget that.”
I lean down to kiss her goodbye. “I’ll be okay. I just need to figure out what to do next.”
Right before I reach the door, I hear her say, "Natalie, remember what I said about Mom. If things get too much, go to her. I think she'll surprise you."
When I look back at her, she smiles in that way that lights up her face. "I will, but I think she might like him better than she likes me," I answer, making it sound like a joke.
The problem is it isn't.
I step out into the hot midday sun and look down the street for any sign of Alexei. Never before have I wished he’d be nearby like at this moment.
Taking out my new phone, I press in the numbers from his business card and wait as his phone rings, holding my breath and hoping he’ll answer even though he doesn’t know this number.
“Hello?”
“Alexei, it’s Natalie.”
“Why aren’t you calling me from your phone, little bird?” he asks, his voice full of concern.
“It’s a long story. I need to see you. Can you come to the apartment now?” I ask as I walk toward my car.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Wait for me.”
A feeling of relief washes over me. I need to see him to know there’s someone who can keep me safe.
How bizarre is that?
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Alexei
She sits on the couch looking more beautiful than ever before, but it only takes one glance to see something’s wrong. Her soft blue eyes look up at me, full of fear.
What’s happened?
I never get the chance to speak my question before she slides the blue scarf from around her neck, all the while her gaze never wavering from mine in a glare full of accusation. My eyes focus on the marks on her neck, bruises made out of anger.
“You were wrong. He’s more than capable of killing me.”
My hands curl into tight fists at my sides, and I don’t know where my rage with Anchoff ends and my frustration with her begins. Why didn’t she come to stay with me every time I offered?
“Your husband doesn’t know how to take care of things he should cherish,” I bite out before I avert my gaze from her neck.
I feel the pain in her stare before she even speaks a word. It practically scorches the side of my head.
“Is that all you have to say?”
When I turn to face her, the hurt is written all over her face. “What do you want me to say, Natalie? I told you to come stay with me that day at your house. You refused. I offered to keep you safe at my house yesterday, and you said you weren’t ready yet. You won’t help me help you, so what else would you like me to say?”
She stands up and pushes past me, spinning around to answer my question. “You say you love me, Alexei. This is how you treat someone you love? You blame them for what happens to them? That’s not love. At least it’s not the kind of love I want. I already have something like that, so you’re no improvement, I guess. My mistake.”
That she doesn’t believe I love her makes something inside me snap, and I grab her by the arms, pushing her back against the wall a few feet away. She wants to see what my love is like? Then that’s what she’ll get.
“Your mistake, little bird, is refusing to see just how much I love you. I would give my life to protect you, but you won’t even leave your husband to protect yourself,” I whisper against her lips. “Maybe you’re just not used to having someone who would sacrifice everything for you. Maybe you want that tepid excuse for a marriage. Is that it, Natalie?”
She struggles against my hold, but she’ll stay pinned to this wall until she answers me.
“You’re hurting me. You’re just like him,” she sobs, but there are no tears for me this afternoon.
“No, I’m not.” I wrap my hand around her throat and tenderly stroke the soft skin on the front of her neck with my thumbs. “When I put my hands on you, it’s to give you pleasure. It’s to show you how fucking much I crave you beside me. When he touches you, it’s either to hurt out of anger or take out of greed with no thought for you. So no, I’m not just like him, and don’t forget that.”
Her eyes slowly close as I caress her bruised skin, but with each word, she frowns just a little bit more, marring her beautiful face with sadness. I’d give anything to make her happy, but she has to want it as much as I do.
Is today the day she realizes that?
Leaning forward, I brush the shell of her ear with my mouth and whisper, “Why did he do this?”
Natalie’s hands search for me, burrowing under my shirt to touch my skin. “He accused me of cheating, but he didn’t mention your name. I’m not sure if he knows for sure or not.”
“Of course he knows. A
man always knows when a woman he thinks is his isn’t anymore. He may not know it’s me, but he knows, little bird. Trust me.”
She looks up at me and sighs. “Trust. You have no idea how much I want that. How can I, though? I don’t even know what your life is like, other than the only thing I know about you that I wish I didn’t.”
“What do you want to know? Ask. I have no secrets from you, Natalie.”
“Why do you do what you do?” she asks in a tiny voice as she stares at a button on my shirt.
“Because that’s what my father did and his father before him. I’m the firstborn son, so my destiny was set in stone.”
Tilting her head back, she stares up at me like my explanation upsets her. “Did you want to be a hit man?”
“What I wanted or didn’t want was never a consideration. I’m a Volkov, so I had no choice.”
“Volkov? You told me your name was Wolfe. That’s the name on your business card,” she says, understandably confused.
“Volkov is my family’s true name. My grandfather changed it to Wolfe when he came to this country, so I use that, but I’m a Volkov.”
“Oh. Do you have a middle name?”
Her question makes me smile at its innocence after the first one. “Yes. Grigory, named after my great-grandfather.”
She looks surprised. “Alexei Grigory Volkov? That’s your full name?”
“Actually, it’s Alexei Grigory Valentin Volkov. Russians like to load up on names.”
“What’s the Valentin for?” she asks wide-eyed.
“My grandfather on my father’s side.”
“Oh. I don’t have a middle name.”
I press a tiny kiss onto her forehead and smile. “You can have one of mine, if you’d like. I’ve got extra to spare.”
“You already knew I didn’t have a middle name, didn’t you?”