All the Lies We Tell (Quarry Road #1)(37)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


“No matter what I do, I always screw it up.” Ilya waved a hand toward the back stairs, down which Alicia had disappeared, then grimaced. “Shit.”

Niko rubbed his forehead, where a faint, throbbing ache was rising, with the back of his hand. “Yeah, man. What the hell was that all about?”

“I don’t know. Shit,” his brother repeated, then looked over at Niko. “I didn’t think.”

It wasn’t the time to point out that not thinking about other people’s feelings was one of Ilya’s bad habits. “It’s a tough time for everyone, Ilya. She’s upset, too.”

“She’ll get over it.” Ilya’s confident dismissal set Niko’s jaw on edge, but what could he do, argue? Ilya knew Allie better than Niko did.

Niko didn’t want to think about that.

Ilya shrugged. “We should get downstairs.”

“We could stay up here,” Niko said with a small, tight grin. “Until they all go.”

Ilya didn’t return the smile. His red eyes and disheveled appearance hinted at another bender, but Niko didn’t think his brother was drunk. He would’ve been more charming if he was.

“You avoid it however you want. I’m going downstairs,” Ilya said.

Niko rubbed again at his head. He could still taste Allie. Still hear the soft, breathy moans she made when he touched her. Looking at his brother, he waited to feel some kind of guilt about what had happened, but if it was going to hit him, it was taking its sweet time. That was the thing about water under a bridge. It could get caught up in a bunch of debris, or it could sweep everything away, leaving nothing behind; it all depended on the ferocity of the storm.

Without answering, Niko followed Ilya down the front stairs, back into the formal living room, where the small group of friends who’d come to honor Babulya had thinned to one or two. Theresa was still there, along with another familiar face he hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Barry?”

Theresa’s father turned from his conversation with Galina. “Niko. Hey. Ilya. Hi, good to see you. Wish it was under better circumstances.”

They shook hands briefly. Niko gave his mother a look, trying to gauge how she felt about the sight of her ex-husband, but she appeared serenely unmoved. Theresa, on the other hand, looked as though she’d eaten something that wasn’t sitting very well.

“It was nice of you to come, Barry.” Galina smiled. “You know, my mother never liked you.”

Barry didn’t seem put off by this, but then he’d been married to Niko’s mother, and it would hardly be a surprise if he knew exactly the sort of woman she was. “I didn’t come here for your mother.”

That little exchange seemed like the cue for everyone else to start leaving. Ilya took on the role of handshaker and gratitude giver, accepting hugs and putting on his most sincere face to listen to everyone’s condolences. Niko and Theresa exchanged a look. She shrugged. Niko stood by his mother. At least she wasn’t crying.

Later, when the house had cleared out and Theresa had started to clean up while Galina and Barry were still talking in muttered whispers in the corner, Niko found his brother standing on the back step. Ilya tipped his head back to look up at the cloudless night sky littered with stars. They stood in silence together for a few minutes.

“You should put on a coat or come inside,” Niko said finally. “It’s cold out here.”

Ilya slanted him a look. “Thanks, mother hen.”

“Okay, then, forget it. Freeze your ass off. See if I care.” Niko shrugged and leaned against the door frame, drawing in a few frosty breaths. He’d endured worse weather than this, of course. A hundred times. But there was nothing quite like how it felt to be back home on this back porch, looking out across the yard to the straggly patch of trees beyond.

He’d kissed Allie for the first time in that backyard, right over there. Under a sky something like this. He should have kissed her a hundred times back then. If he had, they wouldn’t be groping each other in the attic, praying nobody caught them.

“Never expected to see Barry,” Ilya said after another minute had ticked by.

“Nope.”

Behind Niko, the door opened. Theresa poked her head out, saw them, then came out the rest of the way. She let the door hang open for a moment so they could hear Galina’s rising voice.

“Hey,” Theresa said with a grimace. “Brrr, it’s cold out here. Finally.”

Before she pulled the door closed, another shout pierced the night air.

“Man, she’s really letting him have it,” Ilya said with a glance at Theresa, who shrugged.

“He shouldn’t be here,” she said.

Behind her, Niko nudged the door open again, cocking his head to listen as his mother’s tirade grew louder. The tone of it changed, something more desperate in her voice, and he was moving before he thought of it. Ilya behind him. Theresa, too.

“Don’t you blame me for that!” came Galina’s shout from the other room.

Niko moved forward, thinking to intervene, but Theresa snagged his sleeve. She shook her head. He gave her a look.

“He deserves to get his ass handed to him,” Theresa said. “Your mom can handle herself.”

“Don’t you blame me for your bad choices!” Galina continued, getting louder. She was heading for the kitchen, and there was nothing they could do but stand there and pretend they hadn’t been eavesdropping. Not that Galina seemed to care as she flew into the kitchen with Barry on her heels. She whirled, facing him as he tried to grab her wrist. “Don’t you dare touch me. You come here, to this house and try to put your hands on me? My mother died!”