Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“And now?” I asked, meeting her gaze. “How much fun are you having now, living on the street and doing who knows what to feed yourself?”
“I’m sorry, okay? I screwed up, but you owe me.”
There it was.
The guilt.
The reminder of what she’d done for me.
I rubbed my hands down over my face.
“Listen to me.” I sat across from her on the couch. “I’ll never forget what you did, but I paid you back for that by getting you out of there and giving you the life that we had started to build here. You chose to walk away. You chose another man. You can’t blame me for moving on.”
“They’ll kill me if I go back,” she whispered.
“Then go somewhere else. You have family in Tashkent, yes? I’ll give you money to get started over there. An apartment. A job. Whatever you need to get settled.”
“But they barely know me,” she whispered, tears puddling in her eyes. “And I don’t know them. I haven’t seen them since I was a child.”
“You can’t legally stay or work in the US and you can’t go back to Russia. Uzbekistan is an easy, safe choice for you. Reach out to your family. Your aunt always loved you. I’m sure that hasn’t changed.”
She didn’t say anything for a long time, angrily swiping at her eyes before looking at me again.
“The American girl—does she know who you are? And what you’re capable of? That your fists were literally declared lethal weapons by the police in Siberia?”
I sighed. “That was a long time ago. It’s not who I am anymore.”
“Leopards do not change their spots. Someday, she’ll see the beast beneath the calm exterior and won’t know how to deal with you. And she’ll leave you too. What then?”
“What I do and who I do it with is none of your business now.” I slowly got to my feet. “So go get your shit. You’re going to a hotel.”
She scowled. “I don’t want to go to a hotel.”
“Well, you can go to a hotel that I pay for, or you can sleep on the street, but you’re not staying here. You choose.”
She huffed out a breath. “Listen, I didn’t want things to go this way. I got pregnant but had a miscarriage. Keegan was furious and accused me of having an abortion. That’s why he kicked me out. But I didn’t. Why would I? Giving birth to a baby here in America was one way I could potentially stay. He didn’t believe me. So when he threw me out, he kept almost all my things. I barely have any clothes, Konstantin. I have nothing. Can you call him to try to get some of my things back?”
“I’ll give you money,” I said quietly. There was zero chance I was going to talk to Keegan fucking Miller about anything. “I have an extra suitcase in the guest room you can take with you, and I’ll pay for your hotel room until I get back from my trip. I’m going to tell the doorman you’re not welcome here and I’m having the locks changed, so don’t even think about coming back. Do you understand me?”
“Fine.” She slowly got to her feet. “You’re making a mistake, though. That pretty American is never going to understand you or know how to handle you when you lose control. And don’t kid yourself, Konstantin. We both know, eventually, you’re going to lose control.”
It was a relief to finally drop Svetlana off at one of those extended-stay motels. I paid for two weeks in advance after stopping at Walmart and letting her buy some groceries, toiletries, and clothes. It was late by the time I got back to my apartment, but I reached out to Lucy right away anyway.
Kon: Hi, it’s me again. Svetlana is gone. Please talk to me, Lucy. I miss you and would like to explain everything.
There was no response, and I drifted off to sleep with my phone on my chest, my dreams haunted by memories of the past. Fighting for my life, both literally and figuratively. Living in the slums of Siberia. Trying to balance hockey with staying alive. Using my fists so my grandmother and I didn’t starve.
I woke with a start when my alarm went off, my neck stiff from tossing and turning all night. I didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself, though. I had to pack and meet the team at the airport in three hours. Normally I packed the night before, but I’d obviously had to deal with Svetlana. Now I was running behind and still no word from Lucy, which was starting to piss me off.
None of what was going on had been my fault. I’d been there for her since she’d gotten to St. Louis, supporting both the situation with Sawyer and whatever was going on with her ex, which she still hadn’t explained. I’d tried to be there for her in every way I could, never pushing her or asking for anything in return. Yet, the first time I could have used some emotional support, she wouldn’t even let me explain what was going on.