Second Hand [manxboy]

Chapter 2

"And this is your room, here. You can do whatever you'd like to it. I'll try to make sure you have your own space in here," Yakov explained with Miroslav lurking in the background. "Now we do speak mostly Russian in this house, but when you're around we'll try to keep it in English... while you hopefully are learning some Russian in the process." Yakov nodded, pleased with his own idea.

"It's huge," Nicolai grumbled. "The bed could fit three of me."

"Well... then you can fill it up with things to make it feel smaller," Yakov suggested. "The social worker will be here in the morning. She says she needs to check all of the living conditions, but all should be fine."

Nicolai wandered in some, dropping his bag on the clean carpet. He eyed the bed suspiciously.

"Now there is a lock on the door if you think you need it, and... we can get you some more clothes," Yakov went on. "There's a bathroom attached to the left there, and ... well it's late. Do you want to go to sleep, or..."

"Yeah that sounds good," Nicolai answered awkwardly.

Yakov took that answer and let Nicolai have the room. Yakov pulled the bedroom door shut and heaved another sigh. "I don't know how to handle children," he muttered. "Does this give him too much space? Or would less be better; no, that would be smothering. Will he get angry if he thinks I'm neglecting him?"

Miroslav held back a smile. "I think that you're worrying about those things means you'll do just fine. You two will work it out. He'll let you know what he thinks as things happen, I'm sure."

Yakov chuckled nervously. "I only hope you're right. I think I need to try and sleep."

"I'll stay up a while longer, make sure our new friend doesn't decide to try and sneak out. I have a feeling he's the type," Miroslav said, glancing pointedly towards the door.

"Why would he run away? This isn't foster care. I can give him whatever he wants," Yakov stressed.

"You're also Bratva, and he's in a new environment and he doesn't know what the expectations are," Miroslav warned. "So I think I'll do some work downstairs. I'll handle security and tell them to make sure we're all still here in the morning."

Yakov sighed but agreed. He trudged down the hall to his room. Miroslav lingered for a while, trying to see if he could hear anyone climbing out of the window. After a few minutes Miroslav went downstairs and set up in the dining room with a tumbler of vodka and the financials from the previous month.

The maid came by and asked if he needed anything before she turned in for the night. She turned off all the lights except for the one Miroslav was using. He checked that everything turned a profit, and gauged the margins.

Closer to midnight, Miroslav heard the telltale creak. He perked up and waited a moment to hear anything more. He got up anyways, climbing the stairs up and knocking on Nicolai's door. "Nicolai, you're still in there?" Miroslav questioned through the wood.

"Yeah," came the muffled reply.

Well that was at least something. "Do you need anything? I thought I heard you up. Maybe some water from the kitchen, or a snack?" Miroslav offered, trying to make his prying more casual.

"Fine. Just rearranging things," Nicolai answered.

Rearranging what? "Do you need any help... rearranging?" Miroslav questioned suspiciously.

"I don't like the bed," Nicolai admitted. "What are you so worried about, anyways?"

"That you're sneaking out of the window, making a ladder of sheets to climb down as you do so," Miroslav answered honestly.