I raised my eyebrows, pressing my lips together.
Suddenly, Nikolai wasn’t so brave. He pulled away from Babushka and snuggled back into my chest, head tucked beneath mine. There was nowhere he could sit other than my lap, so I put the seatbelt over us both and held him tight.
I was between Dmitri and Artyom in the middle seat, with Olezka and Konstantin at the front. Roman sat in the very back, gun in lap–though he did make an effort to keep it out of Nikolai’s field of view.
“What is his name?” Roman asked suddenly.
It occurred to me I hadn’t said it out loud in front of them, preferring to call him by affectionate nicknames.
I looked to Artyom but his face remained stoic. He hadn’t said anything. What did they know and not know?
How much did they know?
His eyes met mine, an understanding passing between us.
Artyom would do whatever it took to protect and care for his family, even if it caused tension and Konstantin to hate him. I knew he would prefer them be alive with air in their lungs and hate him rather than buried six feet under and love him.
I knew something about feeling like that.
“Nikolai,” I said. “His name is Nikolai.”
The car was silent enough you could’ve heard a pin drop.
Niko lifted his head up at the sound of his name. “Yes, Mama?”
“Niko,” I stroked his hair, “meet Artyom, Roman, Dmitri, Olezka...and Konstantin.”
He smiled as he twisted his head around to peek at everyone. “Hello, hello.”
I tried to see Konstantin’s reaction but he remained facing forward, hiding his face from me.
Dmitri looked like he was going to vomit for a second but then his face formed back into his ice-cold mask. “Nikolai...after my–” He broke off before he finished the sentence. His eyes met mine. “A good Russian name.”
“So it is.”
Niko’s brow furrowed as we spoke over him. “Mama,” he said loudly, making it clear he was still here and would like to be included. “Mama, Maamaa.”
“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.” I brushed down his hair and coaxed him back to my chest. “Have a nap, baby. When you wake up, we’ll be somewhere totally new.”
“Not tired,” he mumbled.
Seconds after his statement, Nikolai was fast asleep.
He remained the focal point of interest for the men. Even Olezka, who was driving, looked back every and now then to spy on him. Roman even tried to touch his hair, which earned him a sharp slap on the wrist.
“Wake Nikolai up and it’s your balls next,” I hissed under my breath.
Roman retreated to the backseat.
The only one who didn’t seem to show any interest was Konstantin.
I didn’t know what I had expected. I’d had childish daydreams and hopes that, once reunited, Titus would be defeated and Konstantin would scoop a cheerful Nikolai into his arms, both of them happy and together.
But that wasn’t the case. Nor would it ever be the case.
This world wasn’t fit for people who wished on stars and blew dandelions into the wind with our prayers. If you wanted something here, you had to take it. You had to steal, kill, survive. Crossing your fingers and saying a Hail Mary wasn’t going to cut it.
No matter how much you might wish.
You just to wait until it’s safe for you and Nikolai to leave, I told myself. Then you can let Konstantin go and he can be free of you.
But what would safe look like? Tatiana had said she would kill my family if I stayed with them, but if I wasn’t with my family, then Tatiana was going to kill me anyway.
Once again, the question hovered in my brain.
Them or you?
Them or your son?
I didn’t sleep the entire journey.
Every time I felt my eyelids begin to droop, my maternal instincts pinched my arm. You’re really going to sleep and leave your son defenseless? Surrounded by strangers? Wake up!
It took over a day to reach the estate, a day of constant traveling. From car to plane and back to the car. Nikolai woke up on the plane, nervous about all the new noises, and then refused to settle. I ended up walking up and down the aisles with him, trying to entertain him enough to avoid a meltdown.
It wasn’t until the familiar trees and paddocks formed outside the car that I needed settling down to try and avoid a meltdown.
I leaned over Artyom, in the back of the car, drinking in the sights that slowly began to configure. I saw the horses grazing in their paddocks and the huge bear-like dogs roaming the premises. Men moved in the shadows of the trees, but I felt their eyes turn to the car as it drove past.
Before I knew it, the gravel was popping beneath the tires and we were passing the huge gates, bringing us into the embrace of the estate. Overgrown plants and trees still laid claim over the land, the mangled roots and unruly plants looking like the forest Niko and I had spent the past week surviving in.
I saw the doors to the house snap open, followed by a flash of brown hair.
I scrambled over Artyom before he even had the chance to take off his seatbelt.
Her arms wrapped around me before I hit the ground, squeezing me so tightly that Nikolai whined.
“Elena,” Danika sobbed. “Oh my God, thank God–” Suddenly, she pushed me away, fury warping her face. “What the fuck, Elena?”
I held up Nikolai. He smiled at Danika. “Danika meet Nikolai, Niko meet Dani, Mama’s friend.”
Danika covered her mouth, blinking rapidly. Silent tears spilled over her cheeks.
My son reached over and patted her face. “No crying. It is okay.” He was repeating the exact words I said to him when he was upset.
More tears fell down Danika’s face. “I’m just so happy to meet you, Nikolai. That’s why I’m crying.” She looked up at me. “A baby? A beautiful baby boy.” Danika fell into a puddle of tears once more, pushing away Roman when he tried to comfort her. “No, no, piss off. I’m fine, I’m fine.”
Danika looked older, but the spritely energy to her step remained. Her features remained mainly the same, other than the mark on her cheek. A bruise had formed which piqued my curiosity. Where had she gotten such an injury?
When Danika interrogated people, they were usually tied down. Had one of them hurt her?
Before I could ask, a melodic voice called my name.
Roksana stepped into view. She floated down the stairs, each movement easy and light. By her ankles, a toddler with black hair followed, gripping her mother’s legs for protection.
“Oh, Elena!”
Roksana and I embraced. She wasn’t as demanding in her hug as Danika had been but she gave me a good squeeze.
“I’m so happy you’re okay,” she whispered in my ear. When she pulled back, she touched Nikolai’s foot, giving him a small smile. “And who is this handsome boy?”
Danika hiccupped. “Nikolai.”
Roksana’s eyes widened. “Nikolai.” She tested the name in her mouth before giving him another smile. “Nikolai, it is lovely to meet you.”
He went a little pink in the cheeks.
“Say hello to Roksana.”
“’Ello, Roksy.” He couldn’t pronounce her entire name so settled on two syllables.
The toddler by her feet stepped closer, revealing her gorgeous little face. She looked like Artyom, but I could see Roksana's gentleness in her features.