Page 33 of Bound By Sin
"Tell that to the people who depend on me." He opens his eyes and looks at me. "Come back in a few days. I like the idea of you playing nurse." Now a dumb smirk crosses his face and I note the dot of blood on his lip where it splits open from the stretch.
"I'm not playing anything." I adjust the ice pack and he winces. "I'm coming back tomorrow."
"A few days, Zora. I need to get some things sorted and I'm not great company right now. Besides, with Ro gone, I have too much to do. You know that."
"You're always great company." He's pushing me away, likely because he's so busy, but there's nothing I can do about it. As much as it pains me to know when he's hurting he doesn’t want me around, it's gonna hurt worse when he finds out all of this is my fault. It's better for me to take his gentle rejection and go.
"I haven't showered in two days and I can't lift my left arm above my shoulder." He gives me a crooked smile that only works on the right side of his face. "Let me have a little dignity."
"Fine. Two days."
"Three."
"Two."
He laughs and then grabs his ribs and groans. "Don't make me laugh. It's the worst thing you can do to me right now."
I lean in and kiss his forehead to avoid the blood on his lip, and he puts his good hand on the back of my neck and holds me there for a second. "Thank you for coming," he says.
"Of course," I say, kissing him one more time.
He walks me to the door, moving stiffly and slowly, and I make him promise to ice his ribs and eat something before his meeting. He promises, and I kiss him one more time at the door before heading out to the Uber, which I'm grateful has hung around instead of taking off like I said.
I park in the back seat and give him directions home and my phone starts ringing. I pull it out to see Yefim's name on the screen and my stomach flips. All that anger I felt staring into Kazimir's broken face surges in my chest and I swipe to answer.
"How is he?" Yefim asks without bothering to greet me.
"How do you think he is?" I hiss, keeping my voice low. "His face looks like a painting and he can barely breathe because his ribs are cracked. What the fuck did you do to him, Yefim?"
"We didn't do anything to him. We sent a message to the Kuzin operation." He sounds so cold and sterile, not at all like my favorite brother.
"You almost killed him!" The driver flicks a glance up at me and I turn away. This conversation would be better behind closed doors. But I don’t have a choice.
"We sent men to disrupt the American deal. Kazimir wasn't the target."
"He's beaten half to death."
"He got in the way." Yefim's voice only gets more intense and angry. "That's what happens when you're standing between our people and the objective."
"This is really bad… What were you thinking?" The anger is fizzling as I realize this was their plan all along. They just never told me because they knew I'd never have gone along with it.
"That was the point." I hear him exhale. "The American deal is finished. Roman's international program is finished. That's one less revenue stream for the Kuzins and one more crack in their foundation. This is what we set out to do, Zora. You knew this."
"I didn't sign up to get him killed." Now I'm crying again, and I don’t even care if he accuses me of caring too much. I love Kazimir. I don’t want him injured or dead.
"Nobody got him killed. He's alive and complaining, which seems to be working out well for our intelligence gathering." His words land hard. I can't believe what an ass he is. He's been around Makar and Bogdan too long. "Zora, I need you to remember who you are and what you're doing. You're not hisnurse. You're not his girlfriend. You're a Volyn, and you have a job to finish."
"I know who I am," I spit.
"Well, the tone in your voice tells me you're getting confused about which side of this you belong on." He pauses.
"I'm done with this, Yefim. I'm done being your puppet. I want out now. I'm gonna break it off with–"
"No, you're fucking not." Now he's angry, ready to shout at me. "You are gonna see this through. We told you not to get hung up on this bastard and you're not quitting. You do what we tell you and you do it well…" then his voice drops to a lower register and he calms. "And we'll give you that fight club you want. Alright?" He's breathing heavily, struggling to stay in control of his temper, and I refuse to dignify that with a response.
So he hangs up.
The line goes dead and my phone screen goes black. I lean back and let the tears flow freely. I have a fifteen-minute drive to let it all out before I have to go back to my apartment and face the silence alone.
