— Hit my wife one more time, and you'll be locked up for life, — a familiar voice echoes.
I want to turn around. Shout to Vlad to take mom and my brother away, just can’t. Too… bad. Everything is swimming before my eyes. A fog dyed red surrounds me. The colors are so dull, dangerous, touching my soul with a sharp needle and screaming about absolute hopelessness. If I had a brush and canvas right now, I would portray a girl who will never be saved. She would be drowning in a bloody ocean, knowing that the end is near.
— Wife? — Dad repeats sarcastically. — That piece of filth who took everything from me along with you?!
— You shouldn't have bought part of the shares in her name, — Saint cuts in with a steely tone. — Get out!
Dad tugs at my hair, intentionally painfully. I don’t even want to make a sound, but circumstances are stronger than spirit. I quietly and pitifully moan. His name slips from my lips…
Then there’s a scuffle. Vlad hits my father, who, not letting go of my braid, falls. Cursing echoes everywhere. A scream. At first, it doesn’t register that I’m the one screaming and not someone else. And then it comes to me that I’m already in Vlad’s arms. He presses my body against his and carries me outside through the main entrance. I want to say that we’re going the wrong way. To ask where mom and my little brother are… but the voice vanishes. I can’t utter a word. All that remains is the taste of blood in my mouth, pain, despair, and a wild, illogical sense of protection… because Saint is holding me.
Fresh air hits my face in a gust of wind. The smell of blood on my lips becomes even more pronounced. I close my eyes and cling to Vlad’s neck. He says something, but I can’t hear. The only thing I clearly realize is the scent of paint and forest. A danger that will shield from everything under a dark veil.
— Julianna, open your eyes, — a soft voice echoes in my ear, quiet — quiet.
The man still holds me close. His heartbeat resonates in every cell of my body. Only fear continues to pulse through my veins even stronger. It’s what prevents me from unclenching my teeth and opening my eyes.
— I beg you. You’re with me. He will never touch you again, I promise. Do you hear? — he whispers, touching my temple with his lips.
Fresh breath tickles my hair. I try, I swear. I try to look at Saint, to peer into his blue eyes. Just… something has broken inside.
— My Timid Doe, I beg you, look. Look at me. Do you hear? We need to go.
Finally, I gather the strength to open my eyes. I imagine how I must look: my face covered in blood, hair yanked out in patches. This brings out a nervous laugh. I was almost killed, and for the first time in my life, I’m worried about how I look.
— Good girl, — he says firmly, looking into my eyes.
We’re at the gate, next to the motorcycle. I see Vlad’s face, the treetops above him, the gray sky. I gaze into the bluest eyes in the world. They are so beautiful, deep, carrying peace and calm within them.
— Mom, — I whisper.
— She’s gone. I gave her the car. Timur will meet her, don’t worry.
I exhale. The relief that mom and my brother are safe allows me to breathe in a portion of fresh air. Autumn is at the door, waiting until it can officially chase away the warm summer. Strange and unpredictable for me. Even a little happy.
— Okay.
— We’re on the motorcycle. Can you hold on?
Vlad sets me on my feet and steadies me when I stumble, nearly sliding to the ground. I take a glance at the house behind the man. There, in that building, everything is terrible. The house doesn’t look welcoming. It doesn’t look like home. More like a prison, from which the chill runs through my body.
— I can, — I mumble.
“I must,” — I add in my thoughts.
Saint nods. He puts me in front, settles behind, and starts the motorcycle. I don’t know what he did to Volodymyr Dykym, — from this moment on, I stop calling him father, — because he doesn’t follow us. Did he faint? Or something similar? Fatal? If so, everyone wins from that.
Terrible thoughts, but after everything that happened, they are the only true ones.
I don’t know how we manage to get to the house where our wedding night took place without collapsing onto the asphalt. It’s probably because of Saint, who the whole way held not the handlebars, but me by the waist. Or maybe it’s in the composure, that same iron one that allows a person not to fall into despair during terrifying situations. But as soon as we stop under the little house, I immediately fly off the motorcycle and dash toward the trees. Nausea comes over me like something burning, so as soon as I hide behind the trunks, I instantly throw up. My insides feel like they are on fire, everything is pulsing with pain.
Vlad is here too. I didn’t even notice, didn’t hear. He wisely hands me a bottle of water and gestures with his gaze for me to wash my face. I want to scream at him to go away. After all, it's his fault too. His and Timur's manipulations led to this. But I think he knows it himself. That’s why there’s so much pain in his blue eyes that he doesn’t hide. The brothers probably didn't think that Dykym would learn the truth so quickly, thought they had a day or two, maybe more, but not a night.
— Mom and your brother are here. — he throws out.
I wash the blood off my face, nodding, more to myself than to him, and try to wipe the red spots off my skin.
— Stop, — he orders.
He takes my wrist, turns me to him, and starts washing off the blood himself. He weaves my hair into a braid and tosses it over my shoulder. Slowly and carefully he wipes away the remnants of love from Dykym.
— When our temporary marriage ends, he will come for me and my mom, — I accuse.
— Calm down. Right now you need to regain your composure. I’ll call a doctor, he’ll examine you.
— Do you hear yourself? — I shout. — I’m done for when you leave!
— I’ll also assign guards to you. While you stay here. Then, when school starts, you’ll move in with us, and we’ll send mom and your brother abroad.
— Vlad! — I scream and shove him in the shoulder. — What guards? Will she be with me for life? Will you pay for security everywhere?
— I’ll take care of it.
— Take care of what? — I bitterly reply. — The marriage or the protection?
Vlad looks into my eyes. The blue fills with ice that cannot be broken.
— Everything.
“Lie,” — I say in my mind.
— Come on, you’ll rest. I’ll answer all your questions to mom, and you’ll lie down. Until the doctor arrives, I forbid you to get out of bed.
Saint leads me along, holding my hand as if I were a little child.
— I’m tired of orders, — I throw over my shoulder.
— Glad to hear.
— I won’t listen to you anymore!
— After the doctor says you’re healthy — please.
— Who the hell are you to… — I can’t finish.
Saint suddenly stops and turns around:
— Your husband. Your safety, as well as that of your loved ones — that’s what I’m meant to ensure. That’s what I’m doing.
— You wrote that agreement, you can ignore it, — I throw angrily, although I know I won’t cope without him.
— That's exactly why I’m following through, because it was me who wrote it! — he cuts off — Come on!