Chapter 68
2544words
I don't have a home anymore.
That's the only thought running through my head as I stare up at the familiar sight of Asher's mansion. The car rumbles along the driveway. The spiked gates look exactly as I remember. The yards with trimmed grass, the distant rose garden, the extravagant water fountains, and the perfect painted exterior …
Nothing has changed since I was here.
But I have.
Both Yannick and my mother are vying for my attention inside my head. Each of them whispers their own warning in the back of my mind.
He was supposed to keep my boy safe. And instead, he killed him.
Our monsters may wear different faces. But they're the same.
I want to silence the voices in my head, but I can't.
Once we park, Asher clambers out to help me from the car. I ignore him to step out on my own. A wave of déjà vu washes over me. It feels just like the first time I arrived here. I rejected his offer that time as well. The only thing missing is the blindfold he placed over my eyes.
His face betrays no emotions—but I know he's trying to hide his thoughts from me. His boeviki stand at attention, waiting for instruction. Asher glares, releasing his frustration on them instead of me.
'Pay attention. You know your duty."
They dip their heads in acknowledgment before they return to standing as still as statues. I head for the front door, and Asher matches my pace.
'There should be clean clothes in your room," he says when we pass the threshold.
The air inside is chilly, almost as if the heater isn't running full force. I'm grateful that I still have my jacket—thin as it is.
'Layla will have made sure your bed is ready for you," he continues. 'If you like, I can have someone draw you a hot bath; just say the word."
But I'm barely listening. My eyes trace the familiar sight of the main room, trying to force me to feel the sensation of comfort I desperately long for.
But all I feel is hollowness.
The studio burned down. My mother and I were forced to flee my childhood home. Then we found ourselves stolen away from what was supposed to be a safe house in a game played by those who had their own aims. All of that just to be taken and then shuttled from one random house to another by the monster who laid claim to us.
Where do I belong? Am I always supposed to feel lost like this?
Has home become just another word to me now?
'Ptichka."
That word … That single damn word that has bound me to Asher since the moment our eyes locked across the negotiation table brings a torrent of emotions flooding through me. It tumbles softly from Asher's lips, gentle as a caress and filled with promises that I know he cannot fulfill.
But it roots me somehow. It reminds me of where I stand.
Where I belong.
I turn my gaze forward, and Asher stands in front of me. His hands are slack by his sides, and his fingers are twitching. The bandage on his hand catches my attention again. I don't know if he's hurt because of me—whether because he punched something in frustration or was hurt while he searched for me. But I know what his twitching fingers are a sign of: he wants to hold me. He was dying to hold me the entire car ride.
Part of me feels the same ache. But the other part …
Our monsters may wear different faces. But they're the same.
'Sorry," I say after a deep breath. 'What was that about a bath?"
'I can have someone draw you a hot bath," he repeats himself. 'I've also called for a doctor. He'll be here any minute."
'A doctor," I echo.
Asher looks at my belly and instinctively, I rub my hand over it. His fingers move again. Yes, he wants to feel proof that his child is alive and well. No, not his child. Our child. This baby has endured everything I have. A familiar fear clutches around my heart like an icy fist. A baby in the womb can't ask for help.
It could be hurt ... It ...
A rush of emotion slashes at me. I lean sideways, bracing myself against the nearest wall before the strength drains from my legs. Asher starts to reach out, but I shake my head, refusing his offer. I know that if I were to allow him this single gesture, I'd fall back under his spell. I have to keep the walls between us up for as long as possible.
It's easier to block him out than allow him in when I don't know what he's planning for me.
It's the only way I know I can survive.
I'm not ready for any of this, I think in agony. I wanted Asher to save me, but now that he has, I'm back to doing everything I can to keep him away.
All because of Yannick and what he said about Kristina, about Pyotr, and about Asher. I want to say that he's lying, but there was no hiding the hurt in his eyes when he brought up his version of the past.
Just who am I to believe? The monstrous man who fathered me? The one who claims he would never lie to his children?
Or the man who gave me the hope of being a mother again? The one who claims he would never lie to me.
'Ptichka, what's wrong?" he asks urgently.
'Nothing." Lying comes second nature to me these days.
'Don't lie to me, Camila." His eyes darken. 'I know when things are not okay. I know when you're keeping things from me. And right now, I can tell that you're doing both."
I press my lips together, trying to think of how I can respond. He's not wrong, but I don't like being called out. If he suspects that I'm hiding something from him, then he'll keep prying at it until I spill the truth to him. But Asher is a man who's willing to keep secret after secret close to his heart. Aren't I allowed to do the same? Don't I get to have secrets of my own?
A knock on the door distracts me, the door swinging open to allow an older man I recognize to come inside.
'Hello?" Dr. Helsan says. He's not dressed in the long coat of his profession, just plain slacks and a green cardigan. He's carrying a heavy suitcase at his side, and there's an air of confusion on his face.
Whatever Asher said to him, it must've sounded like an emergency.
The moment he sees me, his surprise transforms into a kind smile. 'How are you feeling, Mrs. Volkov?"
My heart skips a beat at that name.
I haven't been called that in a while. The last doctor I spoke to knew me by a fake name, and all I wanted in that moment was for him to call me Mrs. Volkov. But now that I'm hearing it again, it feels … different.
Everything feels different, having been polluted by Yannick's words.
Reaching down, I brush my wedding ring. Throughout this entire ordeal, I never removed it. He's here to check on my baby. Slowly, I allow my shoulders to relax.
'I could be better," I tell Dr. Helsan. 'Things have been hectic."
He smiles politely. 'That's how life goes sometimes. Now, let's make sure your little bundle is growing into a big bundle."
Asher shakes the man's hand before leading the way upstairs. I follow closely, moving carefully on the steps. Each step reminds me of that night when my heel wobbled on the edge.
But which specific night? The one with Simon? Or the one with Asher?
Does it even matter?
In a guest bedroom, Dr. Helsan opens his suitcase. Within minutes, he converts the space into a mini-office. The long table is used to hold a variety of packaged items, and a surgery gown is draped across the bed.
'Go and get changed," Dr. Helsan instructs me.
Asher hovers anxiously in the corner while I change. He keeps his eyes away, not peeking at my brief nudity. We're functioning like strangers instead of worried parents-to-be.
'Please lie down," the doctor says.
I do exactly that, settling on the blanket. I try to relax, but it's impossible. Lying down now, I'm made aware of just how tense I am. My spine is static, and my leg muscles cramp as I shift around. Dr. Helsan approaches with the small, familiar fetal Doppler.
I've done this already, I think, but not with Asher. The thought hits me harder than I expect—I've heard our baby's heartbeat. He hasn't.
Asher looks across at me. There's a wordless question he won't dare speak. Like ice in the glare of a radiant sun, I feel the walls I've put up crumbling away.
'Come here," I say gently and hold out my hand. Slowly, Asher comes to life, and with long strides, he joins my side. Our fingers find each other, and a familiar heat flows from him to me, chasing away the chill that has enveloped me ever since he took me from that playground.
Together, we watch the screen next to the table.
Gently, Dr. Helsan gently runs the Doppler over my belly. The black-and-white scribbles on the screen shift like boiling water. Slowly, a shape forms, and a familiar pulsing echo fills the room. My baby's heartbeat floods me with warmth, and I feel Asher squeezing my fingers when he recognizes the sound.
'There we are," Dr. Helsan says kindly. 'Your baby is doing just fine. Just fine. Happy and healthy as far as I can tell."
'Really?" I ask, staring at the screen. After all I've endured, it's hard to accept some good news.
Air rushes from Asher's lips loudly. He sounds like he's been holding that one breath for hours.
'Our baby," he says in awe.
My eyes find his. Even without speaking, mutual relief and joy pass through us. He smiles, and I feel my own eyes crinkling as the same gesture breaks on my face. My nose stings, and as much as I don't want to cry, I can't hold back the tears.
Dr. Helsan passes me some wipes to clean off the ultrasound gel. After cleaning myself up, I start to rise, but stop when a wave of exhaustion pins me to the bed. Asher gently takes my elbow, and his voice is laced with worry.
'Are you all right?"
'Yes," I say earnestly. 'I just realized how tired I am. Is that hot bath still an option?"
'Of course it is. I can have Ollie draw it for you."
'No need," I tell him. 'I can do it myself."
'Are you sure?"
'Yes."
He looks at me like he wants to argue. But he doesn't. Instead, he helps me to my feet and leaves me to change while he speaks with Dr. Helsan in hushed tones. As I'm fumbling my shirt on, I feel a tiny hard shape in my pocket. The SIM card.
And just like that, the dizzying torrent of everything that happened today slams into me again.
Peering from the room, I check to see where Asher is. He's halfway down the hall, still talking with the doctor. On quick feet, I find my way toward my bedroom without thought. The mansion may not feel like home yet, but I still know it inside and out.
But before I can reach its familiar door, a figure blocks my path.
'Devushka," Layla gasps.
She's dressed in her usual starched uniform, the long skirt dusting her ankles. The last time I saw her, she was helping me escape this place. My shoulders grow slack, and I'm overcome with a sensation of failure, like I've let her down by ending up here again.
'It's good to see you, Layla."
Her nimble fingers play with her skirt before she tucks her arms behind her back. She's struggling to keep her composure. Neither of us knows how to act anymore.
'You look well."
'I …" I start, unsure of what else I can say, so I settle on the simplest answer. 'I am."
I decide not to correct my statement. I'm not well, not really, but she doesn't need that burden on her shoulders.
'How have things been here?" I ask.
'Quiet." She quirks a crooked smile. 'Too quiet. But I suspect that will change now."
My cheeks turn pink, but I smile back, appreciating the barb. It's her way of saying she missed me. 'I was going to my room," I explain. 'The doctor?—"
'Yes. I saw him arrive." Her eyes move to my belly. 'Everything is all right?"
I nod excitedly. My smile is genuine now. Being reminded of my healthy baby has brought me back to life in a way no other news could.
'I guess you'll get to see how it finishes, after all," I say softly.
'I suppose I will." Tilting her head, she stares over my shoulder. I peer backward, but no one is there. When I turn back, she's on me. Her hug is fast and stiff, as if she isn't sure how to perform it. It's over as soon as it starts.
Layla retreats, smoothing her skirt while clearing her throat.
'Come see me later. You need to eat. You look far too tiny for a woman about to have a baby. Understood?"
'Yes, ma'am." My eyes are twinkling. I feel the heat in them inside of me as it moves between us. Layla smiles once more before shuffling away. Talking to her makes me want to find Ollie next.
But first I have something important to do.
Something Layla reminded me of.
Safe in my bedroom, I do a brief scan to make sure I'm alone. The blankets have been switched out for new gold-and-green diamond patterns, and the curtains are black now, but otherwise, the place is as I left it. Heading into the bathroom, I turn the hot water on in the tub. Using the loud noise of the water as cover, I unscrew the knob on the wall cabinet's handle. There's just enough space behind the screw to tuck the SIM card into place. The knob doesn't seal fully when I twist it back, but it isn't noticeable to the eye.
Layla found the rose brooch when I hid it last time. I have to be cleverer this time.
Hopefully she won't run around plucking off every knob and panel in here. Feeling confident in my hiding place, I step back with a loud sigh. Why am I hiding it? Do I actually plan to contact Yannick?
The things he said to me about Asher continue to eat away at me like a million termites attacking a house. Each thought that I brush away is replaced by a new one. His voice and my mother's are warring in my head again. But it's that same damning statement from her that I keep coming back to.
