Riot

by Tillie Cole

  Fighting the fear threatening to take hold, I made myself face the pain and turn to see who I lay with. I heard deep, steady breathing coming from beside me. But no more fear came. Instead I felt safe.

  Discreetly turning my head, I focused on the male in the bed. My memory returned like a train, slamming image after image into my mind.

  Ilya, Ilya … Ilya …

  My bottom lip trembled as I realized Ilya, my Ilya, lay beside me. His face was peaceful in sleep. I watched him, my heart pounding so fast. Bruises and cuts were everywhere on his skin. But they were fading.

  I tried to think about where he had gotten them. Then I remembered … Master, catching us, me being tied up, Ilya having to fight …

  As if feeling my stare, Ilya’s eyes opened. It took him a second to realize that I was awake. When he did, he sat up, covering my body with his own. “Inessa?” he asked, and searched my eyes.

  Tears fell at the sound of my name on his lips. Then I remembered that we had discovered our names. We had known each other’s names. We would be able to find ourselves in whatever life came next.

  Happiness burst inside of me. “You found me,” I whispered, and lifted my hand to Ilya’s stubbled face.

  Ilya’s blond eyebrows pulled down. “Found you, krasivaya?”

  “By my name,” I explained. “You called my name and found me.”

  It took a moment for Ilya to understand my words. His face then paled and his eyes widened. His head shook. “No, moy prekrasnyy,” he murmured. “We are alive. We made it.”

  I studied Ilya’s eyes, looking for deception. I couldn’t find any. Then I opened my mouth to ask how, when, and why, when a far-off scene played in my head.

  Valentin … 194 … You kept your promise.

  “Valentin,” I whispered aloud. Ilya smiled, such a handsome smile, and nodded. “194?” I questioned. Ilya nodded again.

  “194 was Valentin,” Ilya explained, and a silent sob left my lips. I cried. I cried as more images from my life raced through my brain. They came so fast that I could barely focus.

  Ilya leaned over and stroked his hand down my face. “What’s wrong, Inessa?”

  “My head,” I explained. “I can remember. How can I remember?”

  “You have been asleep for four days.” I gasped at this information. Ilya took my hand in his, instantly calming me down. “You have been cleared of the drugs.” Ilya held up my wrist. It was free of the bracelet. There was an angry red scar, evidence the drugs had been taken away.

  My eyes searched the room. “Where are we?”

  Ilya sat on the side of the bed, his torso twisted to face me. I noticed he had cuts and bruises everywhere. “Inessa, we are in Valentin’s house in Brooklyn, New York. He brought us back here. He and his new family helped free us all from the Blood Pit.”

  I froze. “Master?”

  “Dead,” he said flatly, but his tone was ice-cold.

  “You?”

  Ilya paused, then nodded. Leaning forward, I lay my forehead on his shoulder. Ilya’s hand threaded through my hair. It smelled sweet and clean.

  At that thought, I quickly sat up, wincing when the pain surged from my back. “Maya?” I questioned in panic.

  Ilya’s eyes softened. “She is here. She is safe.”

  Relief took my fear away. I stared at Ilya. He was watching me strangely. His chest was bare, but he wore pants. My heart thudded as I stared at his handsome face. I was so attuned to him that my heart raced whenever he was near. He made me feel alive.

  But right now I couldn’t read the look on his face. Reaching up my hand to run through his clean blond hair, I asked, “Moy voin, what is it?” Ilya’s eyes momentarily closed at that endearment.

  He didn’t speak, so I pushed, “What?”

  When his blue gaze fixed on mine, he inhaled and asked cautiously, “You still want me?”

  I was so taken aback by his question that I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

  Ilya swallowed and shifted until he fully faced me. When I glanced down, I was wearing a black nightdress. When I looked up, Ilya was staring at me desperately. It made my heart crack. “The drugs,” he finally said. “Now that you are completely free of the drugs, I didn’t know if you would want me.”

  Sorrow took me in its hold, and I replied, “You thought I wanted you in the pit because of the drugs?”

  Ilya dropped his head. “I didn’t know. For four days I have never left your side. I have barely slept, fearing that you would wake and not want me. That your heart would no longer beat for me.”

  It was startling to see such a strong and brutal male being so crushed by fear at the thought of losing my heart. Gritting my teeth from the pain, I moved forward until I could sit in his lap and loop my arms around his neck. Ilya went to protest, but I silenced him by pressing my lips over his. Ilya groaned low as I kissed him softly, showing him with actions rather than words just how much I wanted him.

  He was a part of who I was.

  When I broke from the kiss, flushed and pulse racing, I said, “You are in my heart. You are in my scarred soul. You are my male. My Ilya … I am not free if I don’t have you.” Ducking my head, I added, “Do you still want me?”

  Ilya’s head snapped up, and a fiercely possessive expression set on his stunning face. He cradled me in his strong arms, making me feel so safe. “Inessa,” he said in husky voice, “without you here with me, I’d rather be dead. With you in my heart, and me in yours, I am alive.”

  I smiled. I smiled so wide and true that my cheeks ached. Ilya mirrored my expression, and I laughed. I laughed, feeling true liberation in my soul. Fascinated, Ilya watched me laugh. He pressed his lips to mine when my laughter died down. I moaned against his lips.

  When I pulled back, I asked, “Is Valentin…?”

  Ilya kissed my cheeks, then said, “He is downstairs. They all are.”

  “All?”

  “Our new family,” he explained.

  My stomach flipped at his words. “New family?”

  Ilya nodded, and a small smile pulled on his lips. “Yes. Valentin has found love with Zoya. He is part of a wider family now. They were the ones who helped to free us.”

  “I want to see him,” I said, heart racing. I saw his scarred face and collared neck in my mind and shook my head. “I cannot believe he is 194. He was before me this whole time and I didn’t believe it was him.”

  “It’s okay,” Ilya said, and moved me gently to the bed. “I’ll go and get him.”

  As he reached the door, I said, “No. I’ll walk to see him.”

  Ilya’s face hardened. “But your back—”

  “I won’t be confined anymore. My back is painful, but I can take it.”

  Ilya’s head tipped to the side, and a loving expression set on his face. “I know you can, moy prekrasnyy. You are strong and fierce.”

  Reaching out my hand, I said, “Please help me up.” Ilya came to me and gently pulled me to my feet. I held in my hiss of pain. Ilya took hold of my arms and guided me to the door.

  As we walked out into a hallway, a beautiful light hallway, I felt nerves accost me. With every step we took, I felt my body shaking.

  As we turned a corner to some steps, I heard the low voices from before become clearer.

  “Are you okay?” Ilya asked.

  Taking a deep breath, I nodded my head. “Yes.”

  Ilya smiled at me in pride. The journey down the stairs was slow, but I made it to the bottom. I was breathless and in considerable pain, but I kept my head high. I wanted to see my brother. I wanted to meet the males who had helped him gain our freedom.

  There was a short hallway between us and the voices. Ilya leaned in and kissed my forehead. “You ready?” he asked. I nodded in silent reply.

  Ilya began helping me to walk to the room. When we reached the end, I held my breath as we turned the corner. A large room came into view … a room filled with many people.

  The voices that had been loud grew quiet. Il
ya partially blocked them from my view as he faced me and searched my expression. He raised his eyebrow at me. I knew this was him asking me if he should move. If I was ready.

  I was more than ready.

  Keeping hold of my arms to help me stand, Ilya moved to my side and allowed the people in the room to come into view. My eyes tracked over seven people. Three couples and … “Maya,” I whispered when I saw the young female sitting on the couch. She looked so different. Her long black hair was down her back and she was dressed in such different clothes than in the pit. I liked them.

  “Miss Inessa!” she cried out, and leapt to her feet. Maya ran toward me. She stopped at my feet and I held out a hand. Maya took it in hers. Her hand was shaking. Mine was, too.

  “You look beautiful,” I said proudly.

  Maya dipped her head. “They said they can get me help for my face.” She shook her head. “This world, miss. It is so different.”

  “You are no longer a slave,” I said, and Maya nodded her head. “Then no more ‘Miss.’” Maya laughed even through her tears.

  Someone stood behind Maya across the room.

  Maya saw me looking and stepped aside. I hadn’t thought about how this reunion would go. I hadn’t had the luxury, or the curse, to think of my brother every day. The male who held me close as a little girl, the boy who fought so hard to save my life. The male who endured years of slavery to ensure I kept my life. I knew that he had never ever given up.

  As Valentin stood before me, I could see the fear in his blue eyes. I stared at his ruined face and huge body. He was no longer the young boy from my memories but the male from my shattered adulthood.

  Yet I loved him now as much as I had then. Time hadn’t changed anything. I had my big brother back. My vision blurred as I whispered, “Valentin.”

  Ilya guided me slowly forward, but Valentin rushed to me in an instant and wrapped me in his thick arms. He was careful not to touch my back. But I didn’t care if he did. I had my brother back. I had my savior back. He was my family.

  “Inessa,” he hushed out as he held me to his broad chest. I closed my eyes. An image of him cradling me in his arms as I lay in a cell sprang to mind. Leaning back, I met his blue eyes—replicas of my own—and said, “I remember this.” Valentin watched me carefully. Smiling, I lifted my hand to touch his face. Valentin flinched. I frowned, wondering why.

  Answering my unspoken question, he said, “My face … the scars…” He ducked his head and I heard someone sniffing lightly from the side.

  Studying my brother, broken by his appearance, I reached behind me for Ilya’s hand. It slipped into mine in seconds. Using his strength to hold me up, I turned and displayed my bare back. I heard Valentin hiss.

  When Ilya guided me back to face Valentin, I felt him press a soft kiss to the uppermost scar. It warmed my heart. He wanted me regardless.

  Valentin’s face was red with rage when I met his gaze again. “Do my scars repulse you?” I asked.

  Valentin lost his anger, only to protest, “No. Not at all.”

  I nodded slowly, then placing my hand on his cheek once more, said, “Well, then. Understand that you are my brother, scars or not.” Valentin’s eyes closed for a long second. When they reopened, I said, “Our eyes and hair match. Now so do our scars.”

  Valentin stared at me, then his lips twitched. I wondered what was happening. Suddenly, a wide, joyful smile spread on his always serious face. He nodded again, then repeated, “We match.”

  I laughed aloud. “The proof of our survival.” Ilya’s hand was still in mine and he squeezed it tightly. Pulling on his hand, Ilya stepped beside me. His arm kept me strong. Looking up to the male that had stolen my heart, I then looked to my brother. “Valentin, this is Ilya.” I felt my cheeks blush. “He is in my heart and I am in his.”

  Ilya kissed me on the cheek. Valentin watched but didn’t react. “I know,” he replied, and nodded at Ilya. “He is a great warrior. He fought hard to set you free.”

  My pulse beat faster in response. Valentin then turned to look at someone behind him. A dark-haired, dark-eyed female came forward. She was beautiful. She was dressed in similar clothes to Maya.

  I found myself liking them, too.

  I watched in fascination as Valentin hooked his arm around her shoulders. She was smiling at me. A kind honest smile. “Inessa,” Valentin announced, “this is my Zoya.” He looked back to his love and said, “This is my little sister, Inessa.”

  Zoya held out her hand, and I placed mine in hers. “Nice to meet you, Inessa,” she said, a hint of relief to her voice.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” I replied. Zoya patted Valentin on his chest and said, “You have made your brother the happiest male on the planet. All he wanted was your safe return.”

  As I watched Valentin look to his Zoya with nothing but love and faith, I replied, “I doubt that is true. I think that honor belongs to you.”

  Zoya blushed, then turned to a large male behind her. “Inessa, this is my brother Zaal.”

  And that’s how it went. I met all of the family. My new family. Ilya stayed by my side as I shook hands with each male and female. When all of the introductions had been made, I caught sight of a large set of doors at the rear of the room. The night was dark outside, but … it showed outside.

  Turning to Ilya, I asked, “Have you been outside, moy voin?”

  Ilya shook his head and held me closer. “I was waiting for you. We once dreamed we would walk outside together. Along with many other things. So I have waited.” I stared up at my male and smiled brightly. He laughed and shook his head. “Would you like to go out now?”

  I nodded in excitement. When I looked around the room, I saw the other people watching us. I caught Maya smile. “You will love it … Inessa,” she said timidly. “It is like nothing else. The fresh air…”

  I inhaled, steeling my nerves. Ilya led me forward. Valentin moved aside as I approached a door. Ilya opened the handle and pulled it open. Fresh air immediately dusted the hair from my face. I closed my eyes as the cool breeze washed over me, chasing my nerves away.

  I felt Ilya tense beside me and knew he was feeling it also. He stepped forward, leading me off a step and down onto a patch of grass. As my bare feet sank into the soft ground, I closed my eyes. It was only for a moment as I told myself it wasn’t a dream. I opened them quickly. I didn’t want to miss a thing.

  Ilya looked around us. Trees and fences surrounded us. But best was the coolness of the air in my lungs. The pit was dank. This evening air was a balm to all the pain I had endured. It helped me to forget.

  Ilya gasped. When I turned to face him, he was looking at the sky. I followed his mesmerized gaze, and as I did, I lost my breath.

  “Stars,” Ilya whispered as we stared at the tiny glittering lights.

  Tears filled my eyes and I squeezed his hand tightly. “Ilya,” I murmured, in awe of this new life aboveground.

  “I know,” he replied, and lifted his arm to thread over my shoulders. “I know,” he whispered again.

  Inhaling deeply, my body infused with this heady feeling. Releasing this breath, I asked, “Ilya, can you feel it?”

  “What?” he questioned, the warmth of peace radiating from his worn body.

  “Freedom,” I hushed out. “Our freedom … our freedom … at long last.”

  Epilogue

  ILYA

  Three years later …

  “Rodian!” Kisa called to her son as he ran over to his little cousin and pushed her to the ground.

  Larisa, Talia and Zaal’s daughter, began to scream. Zaal, who was talking to Luka near the barbeque, turned his head and rushed to his daughter’s aid. He scooped her up and brought her to his chest. His little girl wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his long hair.

  “Shh,” Zaal soothed, rubbing the little girl’s back. “It’s okay.”

  Talia approached her husband and daughter, and rolled her eyes. “She’s fine, Zaal!” She shook her head. “I swe
ar, that daughter of ours has you wrapped around her little finger.”

  Ivan and Vera Tolstoi, Talia and Luka’s parents, walked to Zaal. Ivan folded his arms across his chest. “I remember someone else wrapping her papa around her finger, too.” Talia glared at her papa. Then, bursting into a smile, she threw her arms around his waist and squeezed tight.

  “I still do,” she quipped. Ivan and Vera both nodded their heads.

  Luka walked toward Zaal, his son in his arms. Rodian was scowling at Larisa. Larisa scowled back. As Luka stopped beside Zaal, he looked down to his son. “Rodian, what do you say?”

  Rodian glared at his papa and crossed his arms. But Luka’s stare was stronger. Kisa joined her husband, hand on her swollen belly. She too waited for their son to apologize to his cousin.

  Kirill, the Pakhan, walked over and asked, “What happened?”

  Luka pointed at his son. “He pushed Larisa to the floor. He’s refusing to apologize.” Kirill’s hard eyes turned to Rodian, and with the same level of success his glare pulled out of everyone, Rodian turned to his cousin and muttered, “I’m sorry, Larisa.”

  Larisa hiccupped pathetically and said in the sweetest voice, “It’s okay, Rodian. I forgive you.” I saw Zaal almost melt on the spot when his daughter kissed his cheek, then she politely asked to be put down. Rodian immediately took her hand and they ran off to play.

  A hand lay over mine, and when I looked to the side, Inessa was smiling at me watching them. “Are you envious, moy voin?”

  Seeing Zoya and Valentin across the yard, rocking their newborn son, Alexei, in their arms, I felt a pang of jealousy. “No,” I said, but Inessa leaned forward and raised an eyebrow at my lie. “Okay, yes,” I admitted. I shrugged. “But I can wait. I have you. That’s all I need for now.”

  I had married Inessa only four months after we arrived from the pit. We were both it for each other, we knew it. We had both struggled to adjust to this new life. Had no idea how to assimilate into the world aboveground. But we stumbled through, and all the time held each other up.