After a moment of awkward silence that makes my skin crawl with embarrassment, he clears his throat. “You probably shouldn’t be here.” Lots of bluster. From the way his eyebrows pinch and un-pinch, he’s uncomfortable about having said too much and wants to say whatever that pops into his head to change the conversation. “You aren’t even… My dad’s an old man—”
“Not that old.” I do my best to keep a straight face.
“—and his son can be an asshole.”
“Really? Most assholes don’t call themselves assholes. Most assholes think they’re the good guys.” Like Roy. And Eric. On the other hand, Lyosha could be thinking I’m too young for his dad, and wants to be a dick to me. This could be his way of warning me off.
He gives me a slightly annoyed look. “What do—”
“What are you doing here, standing in the hall?” Tolyan’s voice comes from behind me. He’s putting away his phone with a cold, dispassionate expression on his chiseled face.
“Just saying hi.” Lyosha’s tone is buttery, his smile polite. It’s like he never said all those things about his mom or his dad or himself. But there’s a twitch in the corner of his mouth, the smallest hint of tension in his indolent pose.
I realize he’s faking it all. He’s not happy I’m here. Does he see me as a threat? Or a replacement for his mom? He might be feeling that way if Tolyan’s never brought a woman home before. It can’t be easy dealing with the idea that his father will eventually move on. Not only that, his mom was murdered and the killer hasn’t been caught yet, so he might feel his dad was going to stay true to his mom’s memory forever.
Tolyan gives him a sharp look, then turns to me. “Was he?”
“More or less.” I offer a diplomatic answer, since I don’t want to lie or cause any friction between him and his son. But, now that I think about it, Lyosha hasn’t introduced himself or even asked who I am. And he hasn’t said hi or anything approximating that, either.
Tolyan narrows his eyes briefly. He’s not fooled. “I thought I told you to let the dogs out,” he says to his son.
“I did, but they wanted to come right back in. They missed me.” Lyosha shrugs.
Tolyan takes the towel from my hand, tosses it into his room and shuts the door. The careless disposal is shocking—he always puts things back where they belong. But maybe he doesn’t want to leave me alone with his son anymore. Tolyan herds everyone into the kitchen and gestures for us to sit on the stools in front of the counter.
Lyosha sits like an angel—nice, sweet, his posture perfect. He reminds me vaguely of the Dobermans: alert and seemingly innocent, but ready to beg and cajole whatever he can out of Tolyan.
“Breakfast first,” he states flatly. “Then we discuss your accident.”
Lyosha scrunches his face like he just realized he’s swallowed a fly.
I inhale sharply, my gut twisting painfully. Roy. He always sends somebody to do a hit-and-run. My heart thuds hard like a thousand dru
ms. My head throbs.
Suddenly, the pain in my chest sears through me. I realize I’ve been holding my breath. I expel the air forcibly, then suck it back in.
But a sliver of cold logic slices through my panic. It couldn’t have been Roy. He doesn’t attack people you don’t know. You didn’t meet Lyosha until today, and he wasn’t even in the same city as you.
If Roy was going to come after someone, it would’ve been Tolyan. He’s the most obviously close to me. We go to the foundation together; we come home together. We walk the dogs together.
Besides… I look at Lyosha. He doesn’t look like someone who’s just been the object of some maniac in a car trying to kill him. And Roy would’ve made sure to damage him. Every single one of those hit-and-runs ended with, at a minimum, the victim’s legs getting broken.
“You okay?” Lyosha peers at me, mild, reluctant concern on his youthful face.
I blink. “What?”
“You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“I was just…” I pause, searching for the right words. I can’t tell him about Roy. “I was just worried.”
“Uh-huh.” His eyes are sharp.
I need a moment to collect myself. “Excuse me.” I walk to my room, leaving the two behind. And if Lyosha got into a car accident, he probably doesn’t want to discuss it in front of me.
I shut the door behind me, then pull my panties out and toss them into the laundry basket. I change into a dress, but my hair’s still damp, so I squeeze the excess water out and put it up in a messy knot, holding it together with a pair of chopsticks.
Then I brace myself against the vanity and breathe, willing myself to calm the hell down. What am I trying to do here? Advertise to Tolyan’s son that something’s up? Tolyan wouldn’t want his son involved in my problem with Roy. It’s too dangerous.