Page 54 of Maksim
ELIRA
THREE DAYS LATER
Maksim, Anya, and I sit on the couch, our feet propped on the table—even mine—as we let our minds deteriorate while staring at moving pictures on the screen.
Our bellies are full of borscht, a Russian soup I learned only today how to make from the woman I now work with at a bakery owned by the Bratva. Anya’s initial excitement to learn to cook seems to have worn off, and after kneading dough all day then preparing dinner with only Maksim’s poor attempts at helping, I’m exhausted. Which feels amazing.
I peek over at Maksim, his eyes glued to the screen, although I doubt he enjoys this movie as much as Anya does. It was her choice and is a bit too sappy for a ruthless killer, but you never know. We never had a TV back home, so I really can’t say what I prefer, but this is nice.
No fighting. No danger. Just three people on a couch, faking it ‘til we make it, as Anya likes to say.
When her phone buzzes, Maksim’s concentration breaks, and we both look at her as she picks it up, but I quickly turn back to the TV.
“Who is it?” Maksim stupidly asks.
I nudge him, but he only shoots me a dagger before looking expectantly at Anya.
Give her space, you idiot.
“No one.”
Her fingers tap the screen while her brother continues to intrude. He even goes so far as to lean over me to peek at the message.
When I pinch his arm, giving him a threatening, ‘are you insane’ look, he backs down, but his muscles are still tense. Even having no idea what went on between Anya and her boyfriend in his bed, he is still this overprotective. It would be ridiculous if his instincts weren’t right.
“I really like this movie, Anya,” I say in an attempt to diffuse the tension brewing in the air.
“Uh-huh, Ryan Gosling’s a babe.” She nods along with her words, never looking up from her phone. As soon as her fingers stop moving, my spine tingles with a rumble coming from outside.
Beside me, Maksim fumes, but Anya hops up before he can mention the tell-tale sound of the boyfriend’s truck.
She stuffs her phone in the back pocket of white shorts that show off her ivory skin before training her eyes on me sheepishly. “I’m actually gonna take off for a bit, so you two enjoy it.”
She doesn’t even make it a step before Maksim is up and blocking her way. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Instead of her eyes widening like I expect them to, they narrow. She isn’t surprised a bit. “Excuse me?”
“If you don’t have the self-regulatory skills to stay away from things that are bad for you, then I have to make your decisions for you. You’re grounded.”
“Grounded?” Her jaw drops with a laugh. “How are you going to ground me if you’re hardly ever here? How exactly do you plan on enforcing that?”
Maksim gestures to me, and I glare at him, wishing to be left out of this.
Anya rolls her eyes and turns to walk away, probably headed for the back door.
I expect Maksim to chase after her, but he stands his ground. “I hope you’re prepared to support yourself, Anya, because if you walk out that door, I’m not going to sit around waiting for you to come back this time. Your phone and credit card will both be turned off before you get to wherever that dirtbag is taking you.”
This has Anya’s attention. She grinds to a halt, her shoulders lifting as her back constricts, and when she spins, her eyes look like glass.
“Sitting around waiting for me to come back?” she asks, stomping his way. “You don’t even care when I leave!” I cringe at the high pitch of her yell, but Maksim doesn’t even flinch. “You went off and got married, you stupid fucking asshole!” When she reaches him, she slaps her hand at his chest, tears pooling in her eyes. He just stands there like a statue, looking exactly as she’s accusing him—uncaring.
Oh, Maksim.
“Of course he cares,” I chime in, unsure if I’ll regret it. The kid likes me, but I’m still new. This isn’t my business.
Anya predictably looks at me like she’s about to spew venom, but I go on.
“He’s an idiot, obviously, but, honey, if your brother didn’t care, he wouldn’t be trying to stop you right now.” I frown and go on before she can throw a retort my way. “I thought you realized that boy wasn’t good for you.”