PRESENT
"Our father, as in the walking penis that provided the sperm to create all this awesomeness?" I throw the last part out to mask my shock at his declaration. This can't be happening. I haven't been searching for my family all this time, for them to be right under my nose. Literally!
"Yes, our отец," Isla confirms, her dark eyes sparkling at my pathetic attempt at humor.
Our father, fuck! Thank God for Alexei making me learn basic Russian. Hold on. "Was our father Russian?" Little pieces of the puzzle starting to form in my mind as I watch them.
"Yes," Griffin grunts, his brow creasing. "Viktor was Russian."
"Was?" Please, no. If my parents are dead, then...
Looking sheepish, both Isla and Griffin nod, "he wasn't a good man in the end."
Remembering Ava's story about Griffin's... Oh, God! Raising my eyes to meet Ava's, I wait as dread seeps in.
Like a punch to the gut, I watch as she nods, a mixture of sympathy and regret filling her chocolate orbs, reflecting my emotions. "Please don't tell me," I murmur, shaking my head, my eyes starting to sting at the recollection of her words, of what that man did to them, to me.
"I'm so sorry, babe," Ava offers, positioning herself where Isla previously sat and wrapping her arms around my back for comfort, pulling me close.
"Why don't I remember?" I ask, my gaze unfocused, tears threatening to surface. Come on, pull it together. I'm strong. I'm resilient. I'm fire. I silently repeat the mantra I've clung to since my early days in training, a shield against revealing any weakness.
"When we were separated, Ciara," Griffin begins, his expression pained. He gently squeezes my hand, seeking reassurance. "Viktor ensured you wouldn't recall your time at the Under. Your time with him. With us," he pauses, seeking support from Isla.
"He engaged a Cailleach," Griffin adds, glancing at Isla for confirmation. Sensing my unease with physical contact, she withdraws her hand from mine and resettles herself on the other side of Ava, giving me some space to process.
"Oh, I know this one," Ava chimes in, her voice lowered as if sharing a secret. "It means witch," she explains, adopting a conspiratorial tone.
I turn to face her, raising an eyebrow in apparent ignorance. Despite my familiarity with witches and their abilities, I decide to play with Ava, using the opportunity to maintain composure.
"Cailleach is Gaelic for witch," Ava continues, tapping her temple with her index finger. "They're said to possess mind magic that can block memories." Keeping my expression neutral, I watch Ava attempt to explain, her seriousness apparent. "Erin, you know, like magical people?"
"Like Hermione Granger, with a wand and a sorting hat?" I ask, widening my eyes and feigning amazement. As Ava looks to the others for confirmation, her uncertainty obvious, I can't resist teasing. "I'm just messing with you," I chuckle, thankful for the distraction that allowed me to regain control.
"I've met a couple of them during Petrov events. Sadly, no wands involved, so no Hogwarts for us," I explain with a smirk, recalling my encounters with Cailleachs.
"Bitch," Ava playfully shoves me before pulling me back into a hug, her concern evident. "You sure you're okay? I'd be spinning if I were you."
Snuggling into her embrace, I inhale her familar scent. "Well, there's no use crying over spilled milk."
"Erin, we're not talking about spilled milk. We're talking about your parents," Ava points out, causing me to shrug.
"You know me. I'm Superwoman."
"Superwoman or not, I know you've spent years searching for them, and to finally learn that they are..." Ava trails off, sensing my discomfort.
Brushing aside those unsettling thoughts, I sit up and gently move out of her embrace. Standing up and straightening my clothes, I turn to Shay and wink, "Did I hear you mention something about arranging for someone to meet me when we get back to the Spur, someone that will help me with," tapping my temple twice.
"You heard right, Tiger. I call her Red, but Morgan's her name, and she's a friend of the family. She owes us one, or a few," Shay replies, his typically playful face carrying a hint of nostalgia as he leans against the wall.
"Great, so with that sorted, who's hungry?" I pivot towards the kitchen, grabbing the bags of food. Staying occupied helps keep those sappy feelings at bay.
"Erin," Ava starts, concern written on her face as she walks over to me. Anticipating her desire to delve into my feelings, I raise a hand to halt her.
"Let me process, Ava," I interject, reaching into the bag and retrieving several sandwich variations. Settling on a Reuben, I unwrap it and take a hearty bite of the rye goodness, effectively silencing any potential conversation.
Can't talk with my mouth full, right? That thought could be taken in so many directions. Distracting myself is key, and talking about a man's anatomy usually does the trick. It's a perfect way to dodge small talk. One, my mouth is full. Two, the man usually attached to said object tends to be incoherent.
As if sensing my need for a distraction, Shay joins me, grabbing a fried chicken club from the counter. With a mischievous smile, he unwraps the sandwich and devours almost half of it, winking at me conspiratorially while licking the sauce from his lips.
Chewing and swallowing the corned beef and sauerkraut, I glance back at the others, their eyes fixed on me, maybe anticipating an explosion. I exhale, breaking the silence.
"Seriously, guys, I'm okay. Let's eat lunch first, and we can discuss more once our bellies are full."
Ava relents, ushering Isla and Griffin, my newfound siblings, into the kitchen. Those words still feel odd. She knows I'm stubborn enough to maintain this facade, shielding my emotions until I'm ready to face them, preferably in solitude.
Ava bites into her sandwich with a delighted groan, drawing my attention to the small bump forming on her stomach.
Noticing my gaze, she grins, rubbing her stomach teasingly. "What? The little peanut likes food."
Returning her smile, I watch the others dig into their food, the quiet allowing my mind to sift through the whirlwind of new information.
Beneath the table, my hand taps against my thigh, a release of tension. I let the energy flow to my fingertips, dissipating slowly without drawing attention. As much as I should be panicking right now, I've spent years honing my emotions, shielding them from others, including Alexei, and I won't let myself react any differently.
I'm royally screwed, and not in a good way. Swallowing another bite, a lump forms in my throat as I recall what Ava told me. Griffin's father was killed by Viktor. He then took Aisling, along with a much younger Griffin, holding them both captive. Ava also mentioned another child, likely me, who was sent away with their memories wiped. Me.
Knowing all these details, and that we all share the same scar, and fuck, fuck, fuck... Isla and I have the same-colored goddamn eyes. I exhale through my nose.
I turn towards Griffin, knowing he has been silently watching me the whole time, and ask the one thing that I know will put the nail in the coffin.
Clearing my throat and running my tongue over the top of my teeth, I inquire, "You said that I was separated from the two of you, sent away, and that Viktor did something so I wouldn't remember."
I watch him nod and inhale again. "Griffin, do you know if there was a contract or agreement with someone when I was sent away?"
It's now Griffin's turn to swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing, and eyes lowering before he nods. The single action confirms everything. I'm Ciara. FML!
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The boys excuse themselves once the sandwiches are gone, heading off to load the remaining boxes into the van. I take refuge in the bathroom, seeking more time to compose myself, fighting against the emotions straining to break free from their flimsy containment.
Turning on the chrome faucet, I let the water flow into the porcelain basin below, slipping my hands into the cool liquid. The steam rises, enveloping the small bathroom in a comforting warmth, easing the tension seeping from my pores.
Water is my solace; it's where I can safely release the heat that builds when I'm under pressure or stressed. It's the yin to my yang, my kryptonite, but I've also learned to embrace
As my body temperature levels out, I confront my reflection in the vanity mirror. My eyes, akin to Isla's in color but with a more almond shape, pierce back at me.
I clench my teeth, holding back an urge to scream. All my efforts to sever the contract with Alexei have been for nothing. Without a parent to nullify the agreement, I'm screwed.
Swallowing back the tears threatening to spill, I take a deep breath and focus on calming myself. It's not as if I wasn't prepared for this. I've spent the last 18 years knowing that this was my future. Countless deportment classes aimed at molding me into the perfect life partner for Alexei, endless training sessions to hone my abilities and ensure he doesn't kill me in the process.
Despite everything, it's still a kick in the lady balls, realizing my last option of escape is now gone. I blink, my heart rate returning to a steady rhythm, and transfer the water from my now cold hands to press it against my cheeks. My red nails provide a stark contrast against my smooth olive skin as I dab the cool liquid underneath my eyes.
Thankfully, I don't need to wear mascara. My lashes and brows are naturally dark and thick, so the water only helps soothe, and I have no fears of makeup smears. Ava and I have joked over the years about my heritage, and from the tiny glimpse I had of my father, I know I have his eyes and maybe his hair, but my skin, my red mouth, and small nose are not his.
Reaching up, I pull the mirror forward, revealing the small cabinet behind, and find several medicine bottles with Ava's name on them. Grabbing the closest one to me, seeking a painkiller, I read the label—Teasoralphan. Placing the bottle back on the shelf, as I recall it's a prescription Ava used to regulate her cycle, I search again and sigh with relief when I find an opened bottle of Advil. Popping the top and taking out two tablets, I place them on my tongue and use my hands to cup water, bringing them to my mouth to help me swallow.
Shaking my hands and turning off the water, I hear a knock at the door before it opens, revealing Ava's head popping through the open space. "Jeez, girl, what if I was taking a shit?"
"Girl, I've seen worse," Ava shrugs, moving inside and closing the door behind her. Leaning against the vanity, her wild curls flowing around her face, she looks to the bottle of Advil in my hand and smiles. "Forgot I had stuff in here."
I sense a roll of my eyes. Ever since being with her mate, Ava seems to be forgetting a lot of things. I guess having your brains fucked out regularly would do that to you. "Only you would follow me into the bathroom to ask me something I have already given you the answer to."
"Yes, but I also know that you are full of shit when you don't want to talk," she retorts, her brown eyes narrowing on mine.
"Since when did you become such a nagging cow?" I throw back. Okay, the kitten has claws when backed into a corner. I'm not proud of it, but Ava knows how to break down my walls.
"When you became a closed-off bitch and not my sister," she spits back, her own anger beginning to show. "We made a pact, or are you forgetting? We promised that we would always be honest when asked a direct question, both of us fed up with liars." She growls, "but for the last few months, all you seem to do is deflect and keep things from me. That's not what we agreed to. That's not what family is about."
"Yeah, well, I don't know the first thing about having a family!" I yell back, my emotions surging, tears welling in my eyes. I couldn't care less if anyone outside is listening.
"I'm your family!" Ava shouts back, stepping closer into my space despite knowing I hate it. "And guess what, this is what families do. They don't walk away, even when someone is a..." Seeing the tears, she stops and gathers me as I collapse into her arms.
"Everything is fucked, Ava," I sob, burying my face in her embrace. "I needed them to be alive, I needed them to... GOD! I needed." I hiccup as she holds me close, rocking me gently.
"It's going to be okay, Erin. We're your family, and we will always be there for you," she comforts, her voice gentle against my ear.
"You don't understand," I mumble, tears and snot streaking my face.
Nodding, I pull back, grabbing a tissue to blow my nose. "I need time," I explain. "But I promise I'll tell you everything, just not today, okay?"
A gentle smile graces her lips. "Fine, but seriously Erin, this secrecy bullshit needs to stop. We can't help you if you don't let us in."
"Yes, Mommy, now do you mind getting the hell out of here so I can clean up again?" I tease, gently nudging her toward the door.
"Okay, but if you aren't out within 2 minutes, I'll send Griffin in."
"Not Shay?" I ask, still uncertain about the giant of a man.
She laughs softly. "Hell no, if I sent him in here with you in this state, I wouldn't be seeing you for at least 24 hours."
"You know it," I smirk back. Sex is my drug of choice, but soon enough, I won't even have that option unless I want to be in a world of pain. Literally...
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XOXOXOXO KnightWaters - don't forget to vote!!