“You did not just tell me,” she repeated softly as she advanced on Ilya, stabbing him in the chest with her fingertip, “that I’ve never lost someone close to me.”
“I—” he began, but she poked him again, and wisely, for maybe the first time in his life, Ilya was smart enough to shut up.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” She was too angry even to cry. “Don’t you ever try to tell me I don’t understand what it’s like to lose someone. Don’t you ever fucking dare.”
He might have said more to her after that, but she was already pushing past him and heading down the back stairs. Her breath came fast and hard, burning in her throat as she fought against the urge to scream. Dodging the junk lining the stairs, she made a misstep at the last moment and tripped. She fell against the door at the bottom, which wasn’t locked. It flew open so hard it banged against the wall with a hollow thud. Alicia stumbled down the final two steps, certain she was going to face-plant on the kitchen’s faded linoleum.
A strong hand caught her. Held her up. Struggling to get herself settled, Alicia didn’t at first see who’d saved her from falling.
“Jenni . . . Jennilynn?”
The big hands gripped Alicia’s arms harder, then released so she could stand on her own. She pushed her hair out of her face. The man who stood in front of her looking so stunned wore a dark-gray suit and the shadow of a beard. She hadn’t seen him in a couple of decades.
“No, Mr. Malone, I’m Alicia.”
“Jenni’s sister. My God.” Barry wiped a hand over his mouth, clearly shaken. “You looked so much like her for a second there . . .”
She’d heard that before, although not for years. She supposed it was meant as a compliment. She stepped away from him.
“I guess I haven’t seen you in a long time.” Barry gave her a weak smile. “I’m sorry. How are you, Allie?”
She wasn’t much in the mood for small talk, but she managed to force her lips into the semblance of a smile. “Under the circumstances, I’m as good as I can be, I guess.”
“Right. Of course.” He cleared his throat and shifted on the balls of his feet, looking uncomfortable. “I’m here to sit shiva. Umm . . . Galina invited me. I hope that’s okay.”
“She’s allowed to ask whoever she wants,” Alicia said. “If you’ll excuse me.”
She left the kitchen without waiting for him to answer her, not caring whether it was rude. Only once she was across the street again, safe behind her own locked door, did she allow herself to let out the strangled breaths she’d been holding. But then, no matter how hard she tried to scream, all she could do was whisper.
“Don’t you ever tell me that I don’t know what it’s like to lose someone.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“No matter what I do, I always screw it up.” Ilya waved a hand toward the back stairs, down which Alicia had disappeared, then grimaced. “Shit.”
Niko rubbed his forehead, where a faint, throbbing ache was rising, with the back of his hand. “Yeah, man. What the hell was that all about?”
“I don’t know. Shit,” his brother repeated, then looked over at Niko. “I didn’t think.”
It wasn’t the time to point out that not thinking about other people’s feelings was one of Ilya’s bad habits. “It’s a tough time for everyone, Ilya. She’s upset, too.”
“She’ll get over it.” Ilya’s confident dismissal set Niko’s jaw on edge, but what could he do, argue? Ilya knew Allie better than Niko did.
Niko didn’t want to think about that.
Ilya shrugged. “We should get downstairs.”
“We could stay up here,” Niko said with a small, tight grin. “Until they all go.”
Ilya didn’t return the smile. His red eyes and disheveled appearance hinted at another bender, but Niko didn’t think his brother was drunk. He would’ve been more charming if he was.
“You avoid it however you want. I’m going downstairs,” Ilya said.
Niko rubbed again at his head. He could still taste Allie. Still hear the soft, breathy moans she made when he touched her. Looking at his brother, he waited to feel some kind of guilt about what had happened, but if it was going to hit him, it was taking its sweet time. That was the thing about water under a bridge. It could get caught up in a bunch of debris, or it could sweep everything away, leaving nothing behind; it all depended on the ferocity of the storm.
Without answering, Niko followed Ilya down the front stairs, back into the formal living room, where the small group of friends who’d come to honor Babulya had thinned to one or two. Theresa was still there, along with another familiar face he hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Barry?”
Theresa’s father turned from his conversation with Galina. “Niko. Hey. Ilya. Hi, good to see you. Wish it was under better circumstances.”
They shook hands briefly. Niko gave his mother a look, trying to gauge how she felt about the sight of her ex-husband, but she appeared serenely unmoved. Theresa, on the other hand, looked as though she’d eaten something that wasn’t sitting very well.
“It was nice of you to come, Barry.” Galina smiled. “You know, my mother never liked you.”
Barry didn’t seem put off by this, but then he’d been married to Niko’s mother, and it would hardly be a surprise if he knew exactly the sort of woman she was. “I didn’t come here for your mother.”
That little exchange seemed like the cue for everyone else to start leaving. Ilya took on the role of handshaker and gratitude giver, accepting hugs and putting on his most sincere face to listen to everyone’s condolences. Niko and Theresa exchanged a look. She shrugged. Niko stood by his mother. At least she wasn’t crying.
Later, when the house had cleared out and Theresa had started to clean up while Galina and Barry were still talking in muttered whispers in the corner, Niko found his brother standing on the back step. Ilya tipped his head back to look up at the cloudless night sky littered with stars. They stood in silence together for a few minutes.
“You should put on a coat or come inside,” Niko said finally. “It’s cold out here.”
Ilya slanted him a look. “Thanks, mother hen.”
“Okay, then, forget it. Freeze your ass off. See if I care.” Niko shrugged and leaned against the door frame, drawing in a few frosty breaths. He’d endured worse weather than this, of course. A hundred times. But there was nothing quite like how it felt to be back home on this back porch, looking out across the yard to the straggly patch of trees beyond.
He’d kissed Allie for the first time in that backyard, right over there. Under a sky something like this. He should have kissed her a hundred times back then. If he had, they wouldn’t be groping each other in the attic, praying nobody caught them.
“Never expected to see Barry,” Ilya said after another minute had ticked by.
“Nope.”
Behind Niko, the door opened. Theresa poked her head out, saw them, then came out the rest of the way. She let the door hang open for a moment so they could hear Galina’s rising voice.
“Hey,” Theresa said with a grimace. “Brrr, it’s cold out here. Finally.”