What a privilege that would’ve been.
“Of course, but what would that get me?” she asked rhetorically. “You think forcing me to go downstairs and sit in a room with a bunch of strange men will help calm my nerves? I guess wearing a sharp suit doesn’t automatically make you the smartest tack in the toolbox.” Her eyes rolled down my body, taking in my perfectly tailored, pinstripe navy suit. The look of appreciation on her face had me almost forgetting the plain as day insult. With her gritted teeth, I could tell she’d tried to school her features but I loved that she couldn’t. She wanted me. On some level. I knew it.
“That’s it. You refuse to get dressed, you refuse to come downstairs. You’re mistaken if you think you have a choice.” I leaned forward and encased her narrow wrists in my much larger hands to pull her out of the chair.
Her delicate hands batted at me but I ignored them and continued to slide my way down her sides to grip the hem of her t-shirt. At least she was wearing the clothes I had provided rather than that funeral dress she had been in. She had also showered, I’d noticed, and the smell of the conditioner that Heather had chosen was light and flowery. Finding her eyes with mine, I yanked at the weak material. “Lift your arms.”
It took only a second for her to comply. I tore the scrap of clothing up off her body like a starving man tearing into a cheeseburger. And there she stood in her bra and sweatpants.
The sight of her bare flesh was enough to paralyze me. The sight of the faded pink scar running down her stomach was more than enough to cripple me completely. Off to the side was a puckered round scar.
It was about the size of a bullet. I knew that for certain.
I couldn’t tear my gaze from her stomach. She was tanned, toned and scarred. I felt so much that I couldn’t verbalize. Anger towards her father for not protecting her, at whoever did this, at myself too, for not being able to protect her. But also, I felt a great deal of sadness for all the hell she’s been through at such a young age.
“As much as you should terrify me, you really don’t. You may be a monster but I’ve met the devil. I’m not a toy. You can threaten me, punish me, push me around - do your fucking worst. I dare you.” She spat the words out at me. I wouldn’t have thought such a soft voice could slice through me in such a way as she just did.
Maybe she was right, maybe it was time I stopped toying with her. Stepping around me, she picked up the dress from the bed and stalked into the bathroom, like nothing had just happened. Like she hadn’t just lit me on fire and walked away.
Finch was seated at the large granite island, waiting for us, when we arrived downstairs. My mind still whirled with questions, so many thoughts that wanted to be unleashed. There was no time for any of that now. I promised myself I would think about it more later, what to do and what to ask that won’t get me scolded by Anastasia’s icy glare.
I could see Finch’s patience wearing as he sipped his glass of, what I assumed to be, scotch. “Finally. I thought you might have eaten her from the time I’ve been waiting down here.”
I cut him a sharp look, warning him not to be funny. “Just talking.” I poured myself a glass of Bourbon before pulling out the carton of orange juice from the fridge, pouring a glass for Anastasia.
“Finch, I’d like you to meet Anastasia. Anastasia this is my younger brother, Finch.”
Surprisingly, my brother stood and held his hand out in greeting. The interaction, although small in others eyes, had me instantly suspicious. Finch had never been one to take too kindly to strangers, especially when it came to strangers infiltrating the family - such as Anastasia was.
“Finch, nice to meet you.” Anastasia with the grace of a swan smiled and shook my brother's hand. She wasn’t happy, but she was putting on a brilliant show.
“Likewise.” He smiled and dropped her hand. “Should we get out of the kitchen? I’d hate to be in the way of the chef.”
“Yes, we’ll wait in the living room.” My hand extended towards Anastasia’s back, but she stepped away prematurely to follow my brother. The look she threw over her shoulder at me told me she’d avoided my touch on purpose. I’d assumed as much. Her defiance made me bite my tongue to kill my laughter. The gall of her may very well become the bane of my existence.
“Who are we waiting for?”
“My brothers.”
“How many brothers do you have?” Her head tilted, eyes narrowing in curiosity. I was surprised but also glad to find that she was showing some genuine interest.
“Nikolai, I’m surprised. Had you not properly informed your guest?” Finch looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. I ground my teeth as he continued on to answer Anastasia’s question.
“We’re waiting on our younger brothers, Drex and Zedd.” If we’d have been alone, I knew for a fact that snide comments about their constant tardiness would have followed. I took his silence on the matter to be a good sign.
I had given him a clear warning to be on his best behavior. Who knew he’d actually take me seriously. I supposed there was a first time for everything.
The doorbell rang. My immediate reaction was to answer it but I wouldn't risk leaving Finch alone with Anastasia. I didn’t know who I was worried about behaving more, him or her. I sat tight as Heather rushed through to let my brothers in.
“Anastasia, I’d like you to meet my two younger brothers… Drex and Zedd.” We all stood as they moved into the living room and I gestured to each of them in turn. Then Zedd rushed forward, causing Anastasia to startle. Undeterred, he picked her up and swung her around in his arms. I became suddenly very, very unimpressed with my brother’s eagerness.
She wasn’t his, and I didn’t like his hands on her.
To my utter chagrin, as soon as Anastasia’s feet hit the ground Drex was there to scoop her up into his arms, having dumped the large bag he carried on the ground.
“It’s so good to finally meet you, Anastasia.”
“Hell, I feel like I practically know you, I’m so glad you’re finally here.”
Anastasia stayed deathly quiet and gave a wide, benign smile. Her cooperation - and her silence - made me antsy. I could tell she didn’t like being touched, but she was still playing her part. The one time I actually wish she’d speak up, and she smiles like there’s nothing wrong. Her face may lie but her eyes did not.
“Drex, Zedd. I’m glad you’re here but maybe Anastasia would appreciate some personal space?”
“You jealous, brother?” Zedd said while slinging an arm around Anastasia’s shoulders and pulling her closer. The look of panic in her wide eyes did not go unnoticed.
The action, although playful in his eyes, had me livid.
“Zedd. Back off,” I spat out, shooting daggers at his arm hoping to singe it off.
We were caught in a stare down when Drex pulled Zedd away from my Ana. I moved in next to her. I knew she wouldn’t find me at all comforting, but I was the one that needed her comfort.
“My God, man,” Drex joked to our brother. “We’re here two minutes and you’re already causing trouble. Just chill out.” Drex punched Zedd’s shoulder playfully, the resounding thump making me glad it wasn’t me dealing the blows for once. The tension in the room evaporated.