CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
VIC POPPED INTO Whiskey Sharp to get a quick trim and shave before he went over to Rachel’s. It’d give him a chance to check in with Maybe to see if she’d heard any news about the art project yet.
He preferred Maybe’s shaves to Alexsei’s. His cousin could be dictatorial and Maybe smelled a lot better and did what he told her to do.
She gave him a bright smile when he came in, adding a kiss to his cheek when he put a cup of coffee down for her.
“Good day to you, Vicktor. Thank you for the caffeine.”
He sat in her chair and waited for her to put the drape over his clothes before asking, “Any news?”
“She didn’t text you?” Maybe asked, clearly surprised.
“We did have plans to hang out tonight so perhaps she was going to tell me then. Since you obviously know, tell me.”
“It was a quick text hours ago. Just that we were definitely going to celebrate tonight. She was running off to the shop to meet a client and would tell me more when she saw me. She’s probably been slammed all day since.”
He met Maybe’s eyes in the mirror as she used the clippers, happiness and relief settling into his system. This was an amazing opportunity for her. A blooming of her life.
“I love how happy you look right now.” Maybe brushed the loose hairs from the nape of his neck with a brush before moving on to using the scissors.
“It’s not hard to be happy when a beautiful woman is cutting my hair and we’re discussing her gorgeous sister with the wary eyes and exceptional artistic talent,” he said before sobering a little. “Those pages were freaking incredible. This will help her believe in herself.”
Maybe finished with his hair and then moved to the shave. He let himself relax as he thought about ways to celebrate once they were alone.
“She needed this I think,” Maybe continued. “My dad is always looking for ways to chip at this new life she’s making. Undermining her, making her feel like all she could excel at is law enforcement.”
He frowned. “I am not a fan of that guy.”
She snorted. “Join the club and get in line.”
Vic withheld—barely—a snarl of annoyance. “He can’t have her life. He has one of his own.”
“No kidding. I’ve got no argument with you on that. He’s going to see you as a threat. It’s why he came to the bakery.”
“I am a threat. He’d be wise to understand that. I’ll do everything I can to stop him from messing with Rachel and her future. One she deserves.”
“Sometimes she might see you as a threat too,” Maybe said, voice a lot quieter. “She’s one of those people who puts others ahead of herself so often she doesn’t even see it. And here you are telling her she deserves to make her own choices for herself.”
Oh he knew that.
“I got it.”
“He’s going to make it hard on you if he can,” she said.
The thing was, people like Richie Dolan had no real idea what “making it hard on you” really meant. They’d never endured truly harrowing times so they thought they understood how to fuck with others. But he’d been in some really dark places and survived. Dolan had nothing to hurt him with other than Rachel. And he’d protect Rachel with all his might.
When Maybe had finished, he was cleaned up, hair looking great and he was ready to see the woman who’d made everything else so clear to him.
He stopped by the market to grab some champagne and added flowers as well. He chose the brightest bouquet he could find, knowing she’d like the color against the relentless gray of March.
Every time he brought her a little gift she brightened in such a way he began to bring her things just to coax that expression into life yet again.
When he arrived at her place, it was Alexsei who let him in. “Rachel and Maybe are off in her room speaking in private. Their father tracked her down outside the building Wren’s friend lives in.”
“As Maybe would say, this fucking guy. What the hell, Lyosha?” Vic put the flowers on the counter for her and popped the champagne into the fridge.
“I don’t know the whole story. I happened to overhear part of it.” Alexsei shrugged one shoulder as if he wasn’t just admitting to eavesdropping.
“You know it’s nearly a certainty Rachel heard you listening in,” Vic said as he threw in to help his cousin with the big charcuterie tray he was putting together.
“I’m under no illusions that I can fool that one. She misses very little.”
* * *
“I DEBATED EVEN telling you at all,” Rachel told her sister as she poked through the closet to see if there were any new shoes she wanted to borrow.
“You need to stop trying to shield me,” Maybe said. “And. Stop telling yourself you should have shielded me from all that stuff that happened when you weren’t even living at home.”
Rachel looked back over her shoulder at her smarty-pants sister. “I’m the big sister. It’s my job to shield you.” She added a stuck-out tongue to underline just how mature she was.
“Joking aside, Rach, you gotta share this stuff. Together we’re way stronger. And so much ugliness hides in secrets. Even when you do it to protect me.”
“Fine. I told the attorney. She said the reports from my doctors had been filed in this stupid conservatorship. Thinks it will probably put an end to this once and for all.”
That had been a relief.
And though she was still nervous, their lawyer had been reasonably confident that their parents really didn’t have a case. Rachel’s health progress had been well documented and there was a very good chance a judge would bounce it once the response answering all the mental health challenges was filed.
It hung over her nonetheless. That anyone who claimed to love her while working to take away her freedom was sickeningly familiar. Something she had begun to see parallels in lately with how Price would speak to her while he held her captive.
She sank to the floor, purloined shoes in her hand, back to the wall. “Jesus, hummingbird. I’m tired.”
Maybe sat across from her, leaning on the chest at the foot of her bed. “I know. He’s trying to wear you down. Break your spirit.”
“Is that what he was doing to you? Before you ran away?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah. Partly I think. With me it was something else. Like a picture frame that just didn’t match the rest of the furniture. I offended him because I was different from everyone else,” Maybe said. “But with you? Yes he wants to wear you down and break you, but because he’s all wrapped up in who you are.”
“So when I’m rutting with hot Russians and working in a gross tattoo shop he’s degraded?” Rachel nodded. “You’re the second person to say something similar today. I’ve been circling it awhile myself.”
“It’s sort of creepy. I’m sorry.”
Rachel found herself snorting. Leave it to Maybe to sum it all up so concisely. “I want to have a good night tonight. I want to celebrate something wonderful.” She stood, reaching out to give her sister a hand up. “We can talk more about this stuff later, okay?”
Maybe hugged her. “Yeah. Let’s go celebrate with liquor and dudes. If I’m leading you down the path to hell, we may as well grab our guys on the way, eh?”
When they got back to the kitchen, Alexsei had finished making a yummy-looking tray of food and Vic had brought champagne and flowers.
“I take it you already heard?” she asked as she took the glass from him.
“Nothing specific. Tell me everything,” he said, dropping a kiss to the curve of her cheek.
She gave them all the details she had. The timelines and release dates. Her nervousness was weirdly excited, but she didn’t care. It was wonderful that she had this win, this thumbs-up for her talent. At a time when she’d really needed it.
A few hours later they’d all finished cleaning up and Alexsei headed off to bed with Maybe.
“Hey, wait a minute, nosy parker,” Rachel called out to Alexsei.
Vic laughed at her back. “I told you she knew you were out there.”
“Well, come on!” Alexsei said. “I could see it was something serious. You looked worried and naturally, I was concerned for Maybe.”
“Sometimes it’s not your business yet, you know what I’m saying?”
“I worry for you too. You’re family now.” At Rachel’s continued silence, Alexsei went on. “I don’t apologize for my worry, but I do apologize for making you feel like I was sneaking around or that I didn’t trust you.”
Rachel nodded, accepting the apology.
Up in her room once she got into her pajamas and brushed her teeth, she sat on the bed with Vic. “You’ve been really patient. It’s beginning to worry me,” she said. “You want the details too?” she asked him, meaning about the situation with her father.
“Yes, please. If you feel up to it.”
She told him, trying to keep to the basic story and avoiding details that were unnecessarily upsetting.
“Anyway. That happened. But it happened right after I got the good news about my submission so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been on a different day.” She paused.
As selfish as it felt, she was tired. Like she’d told Maybe earlier. And sharing that with him had lightened her considerably. Like he’d taken part of it from her.
He brushed the hair from her face. “What is it? You can tell me anything, you know that.”
His voice was so gentle, she did. “Would you stay here with me tonight?”
He pulled her close, whispering sweet nothings in Russian. Then he got out of his clothes and under the blankets with her in his arms, her ear pressed over his heart, listening to the steady beat.
“You make me feel less alone,” she said, her eyes closed as she soaked in his warmth.
His embrace tightened a moment. “I can say the same.”
Him? He always seemed surrounded by people. He certainly had an active social life. Saw friends regularly. His mother doted on him.
“Everyone loves you. They actually perk up when you enter a room,” she said.
His laugh rumbled through his chest and made her smile.
“Well, naturally because I’m amazing. But you look at me and you know me, tigryonak. I don’t have to be anything but who and what I am with you. You don’t need to be entertained. You don’t need to be charmed—though I do love charming you.”
“For the sex, right?”
“Obviously. Aside from the rather astounding sex, it just feels very easy to be with you. But that also means I can see when something is bothering you and it makes me want to fix it.”
“Some parts of me will be broken forever.”
“You’re a mosaic of all those pieces you’ve put back together so you can have the life you do now. Nothing is perfect. No one is perfect. We’re all messed up and the key is what we do with what we have. You’re not the sum of this bullshit with your father. In fact, it’s one very small part of the whole of you.”
“Yeah, the pain in my ass.”
“Certainly. But aside from this annoyance you just got this amazing opportunity for your art. And you’re building a wonderful client list at Ink Sisters. You’ve been absorbed into my family.”
“Like the Borg. Resistance is futile. But your branch comes with bread and a love of yummy things. Oh and gross stuff like beets, but whatever. We all have our flaws.”
“Beets are good.”
“You can say it all you want. Doesn’t make it true. That’s like saying kale is good. And I guess if you like eating hair, it’s fantastic.”
“You have very strong opinions about food.”
“If you have strong opinions but none are about food I’m not sure I can trust you.”
“You have a Russian soul.”
As compliments went, it was a pretty good one.
“You can be alone in a room full of people. Alone even when you sleep next to someone else. There are billions of people on this planet and only one you. You fit me.” He kissed the top of her head.
She burrowed against his body, toying with the bar in his nipple as they spoke.
“You make me feel beautiful. And strong.”
“Because you are beautiful and strong. Rachel, you are wondrous. Your existence is magical and you are fucking meant to be right here with me.”
She found herself crying. No matter how hard she tried to stop she couldn’t.
“Shhh, Rachel, it’s all right. You can be scared. I’m scared too.” He paused.
Rachel wanted to stop spewing all the things that freaked her out but it was like the tears had loosened the normally high walls she kept around her fears.
Through her tears she managed to choke out, “What happens when you find out that thing, that one thing you don’t know about me already that makes you hate me?”
“Are you a cannibal?”
“Don’t make fun,” she said but she snorted. God, she was probably at the puffy ugly cry snot-face stage so she turned over and fumbled for a tissue to mop her face up with.
“I’m not making fun. You’re not the only one who is scared. I’m terrified because you leave me absolutely bare. There’s nothing I can do to keep you out of the heart of me. You have free rein. We’ll find out things about each other that we don’t like, but I know your heart. And you know mine.”
She froze. Caught between the urge to roll away—to get out of bed, get dressed and rebuild that distance between them—and the desire to be fearless and let him in.
“Just promise me you won’t run. Be brave. Let yourself be happy with me,” he told her. “I want to make you happy. I want to help you feel less alone.”
What if she had no courage left?
She was quiet a long time as she thought. “Okay. I’ll try.”