And that threat is Aiden.
I’ve already hurt Creighton enough, I can’t be the reason behind his father’s death, too.
Think, Annika. Think.
I need to somehow dissipate this tension, but how?
Closing my eyes, I sway and let myself fall forward. Papa catches me before I hit the ground.
“Annika,” his low voice calls. “Annika?”
I force myself to remain slack against him. Through the small slit in my eyes, I catch a glimpse of him finally tucking away his gun before he picks me up and carries me in his arms.
Like when I was a baby and I thought it was a good idea to take his place and sleep beside Mom. He always, without exception, carried me back to my room. I still snuck to their bedroom first thing in the morning and when they locked the door? I would bang on it until they opened it.
Like all those times, Papa’s arms feel safe. Overly protective, yes, but still safe.
“My son will wake up, and when he does, I’ll keep him the hell away from your daughter and your destructive family. I suggest you do the same.”
“Annika is leaving UK soil effective immediately and I will make sure your son is erased from her life. Do not try to legally pursue her, for it won’t have any result.”
“If Creighton chooses to do so, nothing will stop me. Not even you.”
“Let’s hope we never meet again, Mr. King.”
“I suggest you pray for it, Mr. Volkov.”
And then Papa is carrying me out of the hospital, his steps steady, his hold firm, as if I’m weightless.
I feel him putting me in the backseat of the car and sliding in beside me.
“Where to, Boss?” Kolya’s voice comes from the driver's seat as he reverses out of the parking lot.
“The airport,” Papa says calmly before he whispers, “We’re out of the hospital. You can wake up, Anoushka.”
I bite my lower lip as I slowly open my eyes and stare at Papa sheepishly. “You knew?”
“You’re good, but not that good. Besides, you used to pretend to be asleep whenever you wanted to spend the night in our bedroom.”
“It’s different this time.”
“You didn’t want me to hurt him. I know.”
“And I don’t want him to hurt you, Papa.”
“He won’t be able to.” A small smile grazes his lips as he ruffles my hair. “Didn’t know you were so grown up that you could single-handedly protect your brother and even me.”
“I’m a Volkov, too.”
“Yes, you are. That means, next time someone threatens you, you beat them the fuck up.”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I were to hurt the man Creighton considers a father and a role model.”
“That still doesn’t excuse the way he talked to you.”
“Listen, Papa…”
“No, you listen to me. I know you like that boy, and you’re in pain because you had to shoot him. But that’s the keyword, Anoushka. You had to shoot him. By threatening Jeremy’s life, he gave you no choice but to pull the trigger. He knows how much your brother means to you, he knows you won’t hesitate to protect him, but he still stabbed him anyway. He’s the one who forced your hand, he’s the one who didn’t consider your feelings or the circumstances when he made that choice. So don’t beat yourself up for choosing your family or for making a decision you were forced to make. If he loved you, if he cared about you instead of vengeance and a past vendetta, he wouldn’t have put you in that position.”
A tear slides down my cheek, then more follow.
I see the reasoning behind Papa’s words, I do, but the only scene in my head is that of red.
Deep red.
A lot of red.
The only scene that plays in the back of my head is that of a pale Creighton hooked to machines, unable to open his eyes.
A ghost of his former self.
He seems like such a distant memory now.
The last day we spent together was a few days ago, but it feels like it’s been a century.
So much has happened between that sweet honeymoon phase and this nightmare that I can’t keep up with it anymore.
“It still hurts, Papa.” I grab a fistful of my hoodie. “Right here, it hurts so much.”
“It’ll hurt less with time.”
“You don’t even believe that.”
“It has to. You need to get over him, Annika. If he’s bent on revenge, then he won’t stop until he destroys you, even if it also means destroying himself in the process. Do you understand?”
My lips purse, but I nod.
“I need you to promise me that you won’t seek him out. In return, I’ll let you study ballet, give you the freedom you’ve always yearned for, and I will fight the entire brotherhood so you won’t be shoved into an arranged marriage.”
I can’t believe my ears.
That’s what I always wanted from my family—freedom to decide my own destiny.
I just never thought I would get them at this price.
“Promise me, Anoushka.”
“I promise,” I murmur.
Deep inside, I pray.
I promise to let everything between me and Creighton come to an end, but only if he wakes up.
Only if I’m sure he’s all right.
After that, I don’t care about my life.
“Good.” Papa nods. “Now, let’s go home. Your mother is worried about you.”
I nod soundlessly. There are no other words spoken as we board the private jet.
It’s not out of awkwardness or anything. Papa isn’t talkative by nature, and he’s probably giving me the space he thinks I need.
He and Kolya sit opposite me, discussing business.
A tear rolls down my cheek when I catch my very last glimpse of the island.
I’ve only been here for a few months, but I had friends, a nail-biting experience, and a man who gave me the world.
Right before I ruined everything.
Maybe it’s better that I leave, after all.
This island might have made me feel alive for the first time since I was born, but it also ripped my heart to shreds.
Papa’s and Kolya’s voices filter in the background as I force myself to drift to sleep.
As soon as we land, I’m ready to go home and cry into Mom’s chest. I’m ready to let her console me, even if I blame her and Papa a little for this.
I don’t blame Papa for protecting her, but maybe I blame them for giving birth to me, for letting me be in this world where the only person I wanted with my heart and soul is impossible to have.
And is fighting for his life because of me.
Once we’re in the car, I check my messages and choke on my sobs when I read a text I got while I was on the flight.
Remington: I thought you should know that Creighton woke up. He’s disoriented, but the doctors said he’ll get better with time :)
32
CREIGHTON
It’s been two weeks since I woke up from the coma.
The first week was spent in the hospital and passed in a blur of tests, rehab, and a lot of fucking noise.
It was filled with pitiful looks from the friends I grew up with all my life and with meaningless, needless sympathy.