Sam and I walked down the corridor in awkward silence an hour later, after Aleksander and Nikolai, a tall athletic man with jet black hair and a goatee, appeared briefly for a polite, but clipped conversation, mostly with Sam, mostly about Sam's journey from Moscow. I sat back in silence, my mind a whirlwind and unenthusiastic about socializing. Nikolai had shaken Sam's hand and told him he was looking forward to learning more about him and Sam had thanked him for his help. He'd given me curious glances with that ever present hint of interest and I'd glowered at him, probably not winning me any trust, but earning stern looks from Sam. Too bad. I had no interest in making friends.
We said our goodbyes, all civilized and friendly, if a little awkward, and made our way back into the corridor amidst lingering stares. I had Vadim's scowl of hatred to sustain me on the walk back and had little to say and it seemed Sam didn't either, his face an unreadable mask. He wouldn't get started until we were in the privacy of the storeroom. Vadim's dark glare distracted me from this, overshadowing every other thought, even edging out the constant slideshow of memories of Senya and Viktor. My feet moved of their own accord.
"Natasha, where are you going?" Startled by Sam's voice, I turned to find him frowning at me from the door several steps away. He watched me as I retraced my steps into the small room and as he closed the door behind him, I knew what was coming. It had been coming all afternoon. So as I took a long, steadying breath, turning to face him, his glare didn't surprise me.
I held up my hands as his furious glare bore down on me. "Okay, before you say anything, it wasn't even my lie. It was Danila's. He implied I was part of Tom's group and we fled together when Yuri took over."
"Have you not learned what happens when you fucking lie to people?" His anger made me flinch and retreat a step.
I paused, listening hard to the corridor, but it remained quiet. "Keep your damn voice down," I hissed. "Do you want someone to hear that we lied about anything?" I matched his mask of anger. "If they knew Yuri had a reason to pursue us, what do you think would happen?" I held my arms out to the side. "Telling people the truth isn't always the best thing, Sam, not when they might kill you for it. You saw how Vadim and that sentry were looking at us. He would have killed us on sight."
"You fucking told Aleksander Yuri got killed at the port! Did you have to say that?" Sam's voice was low and dangerous, even more menacing than if he'd shouted.
I clenched my jaw, peering at the glowing furnace casting warm orange light around the small room, stopping on my now washed clothes hanging on a rack of wire secured to the wall opposite the furnace. "I didn't mean to say that," I stammered. "The words were out before I could stop them."
Sam curled his lip. "What do you think they'll do when they find out we lied and we have someone hunting us? Because lying gets people killed, too. In fact, I think it's worse." He stepped forward, hand raised, and I took several steps back, expecting a backhand as Senya had so often done when I'd upset him.
When he didn't, I frowned and pressed on. "That's why we have to leave. You know, before they find out. You saw the way they were looking at us, Sam. We have to get out of here." Of that, I was sure.
He heaved a sigh. "This again? I told you, we can't. We won't make it by ourselves." He turned away and appeared to be trying hard to calm himself. After a moment he said, "look, we'll keep an eye on Vadim, but I don't think the rest of them are dangerous, not if we don't give them a reason to be. Our best bet is to make allies of them. Without pissing them off by lying to them. We don't need more enemies."
"That's bullshit. Our priority should be finding a way out of here. Away from everyone." He had to see the threat they posed.
His efforts to relax seemed in vain as he raised his hands in frustration. "How the hell do we do that? Because if you don't remember, we destroyed the only viable option. And how can we make that journey with no supplies? Because it's a long fucking way."
All the rage and frustration exploded in my chest, and I failed to contain it. "I don't know, Sam!" I yelled. "I'm fucking scared, okay?" The words spilled from my mouth before I could stop them, giving life to something I hadn't realised I felt.
Sam paused, creasing his brow as he watched me.
Afraid of being alone, about the repercussions of our lies, and being hunted by the only family I've ever known. Of being trapped with no escape. And yes, of Vadim and his hostility. The threat I saw in him wasn't paranoia. Maksim said it himself, and I was fighting with the only person I could even think about trusting. I slumped back against the wall, the fight in me vanishing. What the hell were we going to do?
Sam's boots scraped over the floor, but I didn't bother looking up. I didn't want to see his disapproving glare.
He stepped closer to me and my gaze lifted to his as my heart somersaulted, feeling his warmth, that jolt of electricity and I wanted him closer, even as I remembered how I'd recoiled from him earlier. I dropped my gaze to his boots, forcing that desire to the back of my mind. I couldn't.
"I have to admit, Vadim gives me the creeps as well," Sam said. "You're right about that."
"Then you can see why I think we should leave." I took a deep breath as I forced myself to look at him.
"I hear what you're saying. I just think it's the wrong call."
"It's not —" I went to argue, but the meaty side of his clenched fist thudded into the concrete beside my head, and my muscles locked with tension. I eyed him warily, pushing back into the wall, uncertain what he would do, and suddenly uncomfortable with him being so close. But his arms held me in place and I had no way to retreat. I narrowed my eyes at him.
When he spoke again, he spoke with a clipped tone, as if trying to contain his anger. "We can't do anything right now. I don't have the strength. We need them, at least for now. You know that no matter how good someone is, they can't do anything against superior numbers." He sighed, holding my narrowed gaze, and I had to work hard not to look away again. "I'm not crazy about the idea of lying to them, but I will go along with it if that means we're able to stay here."
My brow furrowed, and I went to protest, but he held up his right hand.
"At least until I heal. What happens after that remains to be seen." I could guess what he meant by that. It was becoming clear that he was intending to stay if he could. He placed his hand on the other side of my head, holding me in place, and my entire body buzzed with the urge to fight. Had I been wrong about him? Was he like the rest, after all? Regret once again collided with my intense desire for him, leaving my mind in chaos.
I clenched my jaw, took another deep breath, and tried to calm my racing pulse, striving to match his air of restraint despite the perpetual rage that had taken up residence in my chest.
"Unless it goes to shit, then I'll come clean and hope to hell we can convince them not to shoot us on the spot," he added, frowning at me.
I shot him a contemptuous glare, eyeing his arm, unable to stand his proximity. "Back the fuck up."
His eyes widened slightly as he glanced at his arm and back to me, as if he only just realised what he was doing and how I perceived it. He shook his head before taking a few quick steps backwards. I let out a breath as he retreated, eyeing him warily. He appeared momentarily unsure of what to do.
"Enjoy intimidating women, do you?" I sneered, staying by the wall.
He frowned at me, as he answered in a tone shadowed by hurt, "what the hell do you think I am?"
"Just like any other man," I responded, longing for my knife once more.
He drew his lips into a disapproving line. "You're comparing me to those bastards?"
I lifted my chin. Of course I was. Men were all the same. I should have seen it. I'd had more than enough experience.
He stepped closer, and I pressed my back into the wall, suddenly eager to be away from him.
"Don't," I said, half in anger, half in nervousness.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He held out his hands, trying to appear appeasing, but it wouldn't work.
"All everyone ever does is hurt each other. Why would you be different?" My words caught around the lump in my throat. I'd very much hoped he was different, but was that just a fantasy of a child?
"It doesn't have to be like that," he said, taking another tentative step toward me. "We've had something else and—" he hesitated, as if wondering if he should continue. "I want to see where it could go."
My breath caught again as my conviction faltered. No, I couldn't. Too many thoughts swirled in my head. Consumed by guilt, anger, grief and something I couldn't even describe. "Why would you want to? Because I clearly piss you off." I asked after a moment.
"I'm not going to lie. You are pissing me off and I think you should at least try to be less disagreeable with the people who just saved our lives." He heaved another sigh, looking me in the eye. "But you've been through a hell of a lot, and even so, you've still got that same stubborn determination that first attracted me to you."
My eyes flared as my heart skipped a beat. I pursed my lips. "Wait, you find that attractive? People usually hate it." I searched his gaze. Yuri and Senya certainly did, probably because I always argued with them. They wanted someone they could control. I winced, trying to force him out of my mind, unsuccessfully.
Sam smirked. "I can understand why, but I've always appreciated tenacity, self sufficiency and you're not short of that." He arched a brow. "Maybe a little too much. But like I said before, you're not alone and we shouldn't be fighting. We need to work together now more than ever. I hope you can find a way to trust me."
This time, his direct gaze became too much, and I had to drop my eyes. "I'm trying, Sam, but it's hard," I said, barely more than a whisper. The words hurt to speak, as if I was confessing some deep secret. Trust had never come easy for me. Too much uncertainty, too much hostility, too much deceit. Those I thought I could trust had become enemies, turning my world on its head. I had lost any trust I might have had.
He took another step, his boots filling my vision, but I kept my eyes on the floor. So when his hand brushed my cheek, not in retribution, but in tenderness, I drew in a surprised gasp. His finger curled around my chin, lifting my head to meet his brown eyes, now softened in understanding, far from what they had been just moments before. Beautiful, deep auburn that melted my heart and shook my conviction again.
"I know it is," he said. "And I know you probably won't believe me, but I've got your back."
Deflating, I slouched against the wall, exhaustion weighing me down. He was right, we shouldn't be fighting and I may not be able to fully extend my trust, but I understood one thing: we were alone amongst people with unknown, even dubious intentions and we needed each other.
After a long pause, I met his eyes again, replying in barely more than a whisper, "and I've got yours."
His mouth curled into a smile. "I don't doubt that." He brushed his fingers over my cheek. I shut my eyes, as my skin tingled with the touch. Doubt and longing warring within. He was everything, and too much at the same time. I wanted him, but I didn't know how to get past my thoughts of Senya, of Viktor, and everything that had happened. Memories filled my mind, even now. How could I let anything happen between us?
I dropped my gaze again, frowning deeply and after a moment I said, "I don't know what to do, Sam."
"The way I see it, our best strategy is to stay here, protected by the fort, keeping our heads down. And not pissing off the only allies we have."
I scowled at the floor, knowing he was right, but hating the thought of being trapped here. "What about Vadim and Arkady?"
"We'll keep an eye on them. At least they won't be around for the next week." He lifted my chin again, forcing me to meet his eyes. "But please, try to be a little more friendly, at least towards Aleksander and Alina. They saved our lives. We owe them that much."
How could I promise that? I didn't know how to be friendly with strangers; it went against everything I knew and Aleksander's presence put me on edge, made me think of things I wanted to forget, that I had to forget if I wanted anything to happen with Sam. A small nod was all I could manage, but it appeared to be enough for him.
"Thank you," he said with another smile. He took a half step toward me, and my pulse jumped with his closeness, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to go further, but as he searched my face, he set his jaw and sighed, stepping back, giving me space. Had he seen something, some reluctance in my eyes that convinced him not to? Part of me was grateful when he stepped back, but perhaps a larger part was disappointed, and this caught me by surprise. As he glanced away, I shook my head. It was for the best. Maybe some time in the future I could give him what he was seeking. For now, I had too much to figure out. But even so, my eyes followed him as he turned back to me, his expression perhaps hinting at disappointment. My chest tightened with indecision, and I suppressed the urge to reach for him. It would be a mistake.
His dark eyes lingered on me for a few heartbeats before he walked across the room to the small stack of hand sized kindling piled beside the furnace in the corner, throwing a few sticks into the glowing coals, perhaps to distract himself. From where I still slumped against the wall, I watched the wood catch, the rekindled flames growing to consume them. Sam threw another handful in before pushing the door shut.
I continued to stare into the fire, deep in thought, as Sam pulled a tightly bundled bedroll away from the wall opposite the door and kicked it open. The heavy canvas sprawled over the concrete, revealing a thin camping mattress inside. He smoothed it out before rolling the second one next to it.
After a quick appraisal, he glanced at me over his shoulder, straightening up. "We should get some sleep."
Glancing at the limited sleeping space nestled between the crates and the front wall with the door, I frowned, uncertain about their nearness. Would I even be able to sleep? I didn't like my chances.
When I didn't move, Sam stifled a sigh and smirked. "I just told you I have your back, so naturally, I'm going to kill you as soon as you fall asleep."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I don't appreciate the sarcasm."
He shrugged, glancing at the tiny room. "Well, I'm not sure where else you want me to put them."
With a huff, I hesitantly pushed off the wall, walking the few steps to him. "It's fine."
"I believe you." He smirked again, watching me as I sat on the musty bedroll. After a moment, he sat beside me, lying back, and stretching his long legs. He frowned at me as he propped himself up on his arms.
"What?" I asked, wrapping my arms around my legs as I drew them into my body, staring at the fire.
"So, you're just going to stay awake the whole time you're here?"
"Anyone could sneak in here and attack me while I sleep."
"I'm here," he said, as if I didn't know already. When this didn't convince me, he added, "you heard Maksim. No one will disobey Aleksander. I think you're pretty safe."
"I think you're wrong."
Sam snorted. "Fine, but don't complain when you're too tired to function. And don't take it out on anyone else." He rolled over to face the crates, his back to me as both irritation and guilt flashed through me. "Let me know if there's any midnight raiding parties." He added.
I glared at his back before staring at the fire again, resting my head on my knees, too alert to even think about sleeping.
Some time later, I stretched the cramps out of my legs and glanced across at Sam. He lay motionless on his side, chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. How was he able to sleep without worry in a fort crowded with strangers? I heaved a sigh as I stood. Sleep wouldn't come so easily for me. Without knowing where I'd go, I stood and reached to open the door. I just needed to move. The handle creaked loudly in the stillness and I winced, throwing a glance back at Sam.
After a second, he stirred and groggily rolled over. "Where are you going?"
"I need to walk." I said, pulling the door open.
He grunted, rubbing his face. "Want me to come with you?"
I considered him for a moment. No. I wanted to be alone. Shaking my head, I replied, "just sleep, Sam. I need to think." I walked into the corridor and just before I pulled the door shut, I added, "I'm sorry I woke you." As I shut the door, I caught his gaze on me and I forced myself to leave.
I stepped into the silent, deserted corridor beyond and, not wanting to run into anyone, I glanced left down the corridor that Aleksander hadn't shown us yet. It appeared to be uninhabited as I passed small, unused chambers, some even blocked by fallen rubble and cloaked in a stagnant smell of mildew and old concrete.
After a few minutes, I froze as an eerie howl echoed down the corridor, bringing with it a rush of icy air. It's just the wind. I forced my legs forward, and as I cleared a sharp bend in the tunnel, it was apparent where the wind came from. Wrapping my arms around myself to stave off the chill, I walked over to the horizontal slot built into the wall around head height and peered out. The wind rustled the shrubs outside as fingers of unruly vines reached in through the hole, but the darkness beyond was absolute and I could only see a few feet of dense vegetation. I took a deep breath of salty ocean air, relieved to feel its sharp, but fresh bite after being underground for the past few days. When I peered down the gloomy tunnel further to the left, my eyes landed on a rusted metal ladder bolted to the wall, where an equally rusted hatch cut into the low ceiling. Overcome by the urge to be outside, I climbed to the hatch, ignoring the groan of the old iron under my boots. I expected it to resist, sealed over with rust, but it relented easily as I shoved against it. Clearly, they used it often enough, perhaps as a secondary entry point.
The wind whipped around me, chill against my skin as I emerged outside, but it felt so good to be out of that musty fort that I didn't care about the cold. The cloud shrouded, starless night consumed me and I tread carefully over the uneven ground, vines and shrubs tugging at every step. I walked to the edge of an overgrown knoll and peered through the darkness, eyes straining, but I couldn't see further than a few feet. Unfamiliar with the terrain, I opted for an open patch of level grass to avoid falling and settled to gaze at the inky smudge of sky. As I lay back on my arms, the long grass prickling my skin, my mind wandered across the island, back to the mainland and further to the swamp, focused on one of my favourite memories.
Laying on the flat roof of the main resident building, the infinite scattering of diamond-like stars above, I rolled over to find Senya sprawled next to me, his head resting on his arms, one knee raised casually, blue eyes gazing at the sky. My gaze on him, taking in the pleasing cut of his clean shaven jawline, the knife scar running across the bottom of his cheek, his cropped black hair that I had felt against my fingers countless times. Maybe he felt me watching him, because his eyes broke from the stars to find mine, his head shifting on his arms. Even in the dull starlight, they glinted with cunning intelligence and I would give anything to keep them focused on me. My entire world. He arched an eyebrow invitingly, and I needed no other persuasion, shifting to slide my body over his, kissing him slowly, the way he liked. His muscular arms reached around to hold me against his hard chest, and he rolled us over in a swift movement so he was above. He always liked to be in control, an alpha wolf, and I was his beta. I melted into him as he took me on that roof, lost in the intimacy, lost in him. After we were done, I curled against him, his arm wrapped around me, warming me with his pyre of a body so the wind became nothing more than a cool whisper as I fell into sleep.
I blinked, and within a heart beat, I was back on the windy hill, alone and freezing in the night. When I glanced beside me, only darkness and grass rustling in the wind stared back. Not even the stars for company. I gazed longingly into the sky; the same sky, yet so different, and an entire world away from that perfect night. My eyes burned with tears and I slammed my head back against the ground.
There I stayed, alone, unable to conjure the strength to return to the fort, until the weak light of dawn burnished the grey, illuminating what I couldn't see the night before. But as the light touched the vast, tree capped hills around me and glistened off distant waves, an intense and deeply painful loneliness swept through me, as the ghost of Senya's touch lingered in my mind, enough to drown in. Enough to consume. How could I move forward when my heart belonged solely to moments like that? When reality cut like a knife and left a trail of blood wherever I went. I almost didn't want to. But that felt too much like failing him, and I never wanted that.
He would expect me to show strength and find a solution, somehow. Be resourceful like him. His stern voice filled my head as I sat up, composing myself.
"I didn't spend my valuable time teaching you, just so you could give up when it got tough. You're a survivor. Act like it." He had hissed those words at me after he'd put me on my back in a fight, his knee pinning my chest so hard I could barely draw breath. I had never beaten him, and he pushed me beyond my limits to do something I always thought impossible. But even as it hurt to breathe, his full weight pressing on my ribs which I was sure would break them, through a blinding mask of pain, I found strength I didn't know I had and using my speed, my long hours of training, I unbalanced him, twisted just enough to bring my leg up and slam my boot into his side. As he fell forward, bracing himself with his arms, I grabbed his elbow in the grapple hold he'd shown me, and twisted my body, the momentum dragging him to the ground. I pulled one of his knives and held it to his throat after vaulting on top of him.
The look of surprise and fierce pride he'd given me then sent shivers down my spine, even now. And the fleeting grin that split his usually emotionless face told me I could achieve anything. So, if I could put a cold-blooded Spetznaz trained killer on his back, then I could do this. I would keep going, because like he'd said, I was a fucking survivor.