Chapter 4

The hot spray felt amazing, cascading down her body in comforting rivulets. She subconsciously touched the waterproof dressing Janet had given her, protecting the glue holding her head-wound together.

Blood had pooled around her feet for the first minute or two while she vigorously washed, ridding the clotted clumps from her long blonde hair. The water had soon cleared, but the bruises remained. Her wrists were mottled with red, patchy areas, as were her lower legs, due no doubt to her limbs collecting pieces of furniture while she was being flung around the room.

Yep, gonna have some mighty bruises tomorrow.

She sighed, so angry and disappointed in herself. Disappointed in her life choices, bewildered by her actions, frustrated by her complete lack of coherence when it came to emotional matters.

Linka turned the taps off, grabbing the towel provided and wrapping it around herself. She sat on the edge of the bath, shoulders hunched and contemplating how things had come to this.

How her pride and stubborn nature had ultimately taken her in a direction far opposite to what she had planned, what she had wanted all along.

I was frightened. I would have eventually pushed him away. I needed to find myself.

She gave a rueful smile.

You certainly took your time finding yourself, Linka.

She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. Linka instead switched to focusing on positive affirmations; adapting the strategies taught by the psychologist she had been visiting for the past few months.

I am worthy. I am loved. I am worthy of love.

'Pseudo-psychological clap-trap,' Grant had called it, but for Linka it was the first of many small steps towards bettering herself. She'd been hesitant to admit that she needed help, but after Wheeler's departure, Linka felt like a black cloud was perpetually following her.

She had been tired, lethargic and miserable in the months that followed. The psychologist had touched on many things during their sessions, but her family was one of the major topics discussed at first.

Linka had described her father; a quiet, unemotional and forbidding man who had severely high expectations when it came to behavior, school and life in general. Her mother was the same, a stunningly beautiful woman with a scowl so cold it could freeze water.

But it was her life and she loved them all the same. Up until the age of ten, compliments were few and far between within her family. With the psychologist's guidance, she had come to realize why she had always shrunk away from any positive reinforcement she received.

Then her father had gone to work one day and never returned. Within a year, her mother had then passed away from breast cancer, leaving Linka's grandmother to raise herself and Mishka.

Linka's beloved grandmother had been the first nurturing influence in her life, but by then the emotional damage had already been inflicted.

The girl slowly stood, grabbing hold of the small sink to steady herself in case she lost her balance. The expected dizziness didn't occur however, much to her surprise.

"Linka, hon- I've got some clean clothes here for you! I'll leave them in Jake's old bedroom…"

"Spasiba… I mean thank you, Mrs Wheeler," she called warmly, grateful for all the assistance rendered.

"No probs. Call me Janet!" Janet's voice was impossibly cheery. "Are you hungry?"

Linka, opened the bathroom door, a cloud of steam following her as she tip-toed into the small bedroom clutching the small towel to her body.

"I don't want to trouble you, Mrs Wh… I mean Janet," Linka responded, pulling on the jeans a little too quickly over her bruises. She winced, before continuing. "You've done so much for me already."

"Nonsense love, I made fruit cake today. It's a little lop-sided, but it'll do for supper."

Linka scratched her head, suddenly very unsure of the obviously late hour. She pulled a pretty pale blue long-sleeved cotton shirt over her head, adjusting the neckline to fit comfortably over her chest.

She hung the towel back over the bathroom towel rail and folded her wet clothes, which had been lying discarded on the tiled floor.

"Feeling human again?" Janet smiled at Linka warmly as the girl made her way over to the kitchen table, nodding and giving the thumbs up.

"Da. I'm so sorry to disturb you like this, I know it's late… and on Christmas Eve too."

"Yeeeah, technically it's Christmas Day, honey. It's 20 past midnight," she replied, nodding towards the clock hanging above the mantle.

Linka exhaled slowly. "Bozhe moi, no. Really?"

"Mmm hmm." Janet sat back in her chair, observing the pretty girl with a concerned frown. "Merry Christmas!" she replied, chuckling just a little. "You able to tell me what happened? Was it a mission?"

Linka shook her head, "Nyet," she whispered, her cheeks flushing at the open way Wheeler's mother was studying her now. She had his eyes, piercing blue and the ability to look right through you- a talent she also shared with her son.

Janet sighed, nodding her head. "I've left messages for Jacob, but he's not responding. Although he did say he was meeting up with friends tonight, so I'm guessing he probably has his phone off."

"Oh." Linka looked down, the bitter disappointment evident on her pale face. "Okay".

Janet studied the girl further, still shocked at how different her son's friend appeared. It had nothing to do with her injuries or her physical appearance. Linka still remained a stunningly beautiful girl in Janet's eyes. She understood why her son had fallen so hard for the Russian.

It was the girl's spirit that had changed. She seemed crushed, defeated by life. Even her posture was different, her manner of speaking.

"What happened?" Janet asked again, reaching across the table to clutch Linka's hands, alarmed that tears had begun to drop onto Linka's untouched fruit-cake. The blonde sniffed, wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve.

"I have messed everything up," she whispered, meeting Janet's gentle eyes for a moment. "I have made some very bad choices in my life. The wrong choices. I just… I just need to put things right and apologize. I owe him that."

Wheeler's mother didn't respond at first, seeming to process what she had just heard.

Janet squeezed her hands, giving the Russian a sad smile. "I honestly thought…." She stopped mid sentence, unsure if she should proceed.

Linka raised her head again, a silent question forming on her lips.

Janet shrugged, before continuing. "I honestly thought I'd end up gaining a daughter-in law with you." She laughed, shaking her head at the memory. "He was besotted with you. Absolutely besotted. Adored you. I remember our first phone conversation after your group formed. He talked about you for an hour and a half."

Linka smiled, a warm flush rising in her cheeks.

Janet grinned back. Linka was so very at ease with this woman, having only met her a handful of times. Perhaps it was the familiarity factor. The eyes, the hair (even if it was several shades lighter), the smattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose. The laugh lines representing that keen sense of humor, obviously inherited from his mother.

"Does he still talk about me now?" she asked, feeling both wistful and incredibly self-conscious at the same time. The downwards glance she received in response spoke volumes to Linka. The blonde nodded, now feeling foolish.

Janet gave her a reassuring squeeze, before changing the subject. "We were very poor, growing up. I worked two jobs. Put myself through nursing school. Wheeler's father, um… well, lets just say he didn't contribute much."

Linka's eyes went wide, not expecting this level of honesty, but Janet pressed on regardless.

"He wasn't a good man. I know Jake resented me for staying with his father. He smoked, drank and gambled away a lot of our money. I would try to make Bill see reason, try to explain that we had no food to eat."

Janet sighed, looking up at Linka's stunned expression. "Wheeler's father would beat me, Jake would intervene, trying to protect me. He usually copped the worst of it."

Linka sat horrified, a million questions burning on the tip of her tongue.

Janet shook her head. "I was weak. Wheeler spent most of his time on the streets after that. It was a lot safer then being at home."

"Why didn't you leave?" Linka asked, not realizing the extent of Wheeler's childhood and suddenly feeling incredibly protective of the Yankee.

She sighed, playing with the fruit-cake on her plate. "When you're in a domestic violence situation, you're moulded. Shifted into something else, and programmed." She gave a wan smile, popping a glace cherry into her mouth. "After a while, you start believing what they say."

Linka didn't know what to say. She sat back in her chair, her lips pressed into a tight line. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, honey. Jacob and I don't need to worry about ourselves anymore. The liver disease saw to that," she added wryly. "Was a relief, really."

Linka nodded, seeing minor parallels with her own situation. The realization prompted her to at last be truthful, both with herself and Mrs Wheeler.

"I broke up with my boyfriend Grant around 4 weeks ago. He wasn't particularly happy about it," she added, touching her head almost as an afterthought.

"He did all this to you?" she gasped, her hand clenching into a fist as Linka nodded.

"Da."

"Geez," Janet muttered, clearly concerned about Linka's confession. "Isn't his father in government?"

"Da."

"Oh, great catch honey. Shit."

Linka's breath caught in her throat and she laughed, finding the comment both deliciously funny and depressing all at the same time.

"Da, indeed a great catch," Linka lamented, still giggling.

Janet shook her head, the humor in the situation clearly contagious. She settled down soon after, standing and clearing their plates, a happy smile on her face.

"Okay. Grab my coat, we're outta here."

Linka remained in her seat, confused. "Bu…"

"Up you get," she said, pulling Linka's chair out from the table and placing a warm overcoat into the blonde's hands.

"Where are we going?" Linka asked, but she already knew the answer.

"He's not answering, so we'll go to him. He has an apartment now in Queens," she said, grabbing her keys and ushering her towards the front door.

The nerves kicked in and Linka started to backtrack, stammering as her heart started to quicken within her chest. "It's nearly one in the morning, Mrs Wheeler. He is not going to want to… He wont want to see…"

"Nonsense," Janet said softly, recognizing the fear and uncertainty in her lovely face. "Breathe. It will be alright."

"He hates me," she sobbed, "I chose someone else, someone I didn't even care…"

Janet stopped, turning to cup Linka's face in her hands. "Then go and make amends."

Linka sniffed and nodded, throwing her arms around the older woman in a tight embrace. "Thank you," she murmured, before shrugging into the coat.

"You're welcome. I expect you two to be holding hands at Christmas dinner tomorrow at seven sharp. Er, make that tonight actually."

Linka laughed softly, but her insides were in turmoil. The probability of Christmas dinner occurring was practically zero. It saddened her beyond words, as it would give her no greater joy then to share a festive meal with them.

Her own Christmas prospects were remarkably dim, as Mishka was now her only living relative and their relationship was a complicated one at present.

"All right. I will do my best... I miss him."

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