All the Lies We Tell (Quarry Road #1)(38)

“That’s why I’m here!” Barry looked like he meant to reach for her again, but at the menacing way both Ilya and Nikolai stepped forward, he stopped. Barry looked uncomfortable, avoiding their eyes. “I came out of respect, Galina. And because you asked me to.”

The brothers shared a glance. Galina had put herself in this situation. Not a shocker. Ilya rolled his eyes. Theresa saw the look and sighed, rubbing at her arms against the chill coming in from the outside.

“Barry, you’d better go,” Niko said.

Barry, whose cheeks had gone high with a hectic crimson flush, kept his eyes on Galina. “We aren’t done.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re done.” Ilya stepped up to grab at Barry’s sleeve, but the older man moved easily aside.

Barry held up his hands. “Fine. I get it. You still hate me. But you’re the one who invited me here, Galina. You don’t get to play the martyr now.”

“I’m uninviting you,” she said coldly, her gaze bright and piercing. Nobody crossed Galina when she looked like that. Nobody who was smart, anyway.

Niko had never thought Barry was particularly smart, but he took two steps back.

“Fine. I’m going.” Barry looked at Theresa, who very carefully did not return the gaze. He held out a hand to Niko, who took it automatically to shake, then Ilya, who didn’t. “Sorry about the ruckus.”

“Just go,” Ilya said.

Niko started toward the front door. “I’ll walk you out.”

“We all will,” Ilya said with a subtle clench of his fists.

If there was going to be any trouble with Barry, Niko and Ilya were going to take care of it. Galina might be an instigator, a pain in the ass, but she was their mother. At the front door, Barry grabbed his coat from the closet and put it on. He turned to face them, making a move as though he meant to hug his daughter. She casually and with grace stepped away, not making a big deal out of her avoidance—making it seem like a coincidence, even—but Ilya must’ve also noticed, because he moved between her and her father.

“Good night, Barry,” Ilya said. Barry left without another word. Ilya shut the door behind him, then turned to Theresa. “What the hell?”

She shrugged, crossing her arms. “I have no idea. He said she invited him.”

“She probably did,” Niko said.

Theresa shook her head. “Whatever. He’s gone. I should go, too. It could be awkward now.”

“You’re welcome to stay,” Ilya put in, surprising Niko, who wouldn’t have thought his brother gave half a damn what Theresa or anyone else did tonight. “It’s late.”

She hesitated, her glance going back and forth between them. “I’ll help clean up. If your mom seems weird about it, I’ll go. Okay?”

Galina had moved from the dining room into the living room, where she had a bottle of beer in one hand and was flipping through a photo album with the other. She looked up as they came in, her eyes bright, cheeks flushed.

“Look, Theresa, here are the pictures from the day I married your father.” Galina patted the sofa beside her, and Theresa, with a look at Ilya, sat next to her. Galina took a pull on the bottle. Like Ilya, she was more charming when she was drinking, and Niko felt a small rush of relief that at least she was no longer shrieking. “It was nice of him to come, wasn’t it? He doesn’t look very good, though. He hasn’t aged very well.”

“Mom,” Ilya said. “What the hell?”

“He doesn’t take good care of himself,” Theresa agreed, not sounding annoyed. “I’m surprised you invited him, though.”

“When someone dies, you do what’s right.” Galina flipped another page, leaning forward to look at the pictures. “You hated that dress I bought you. Remember?”

Theresa laughed, low. “Yes. I remember.”

“Why did you invite him?” Niko asked quietly.

His mother shrugged, not looking up. “I thought it was the right thing to do at the time. I guess I’m not allowed to make mistakes?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Niko said, but stopped himself from apologizing. He tried to catch his brother’s eye, but Ilya wasn’t looking at him. He’d gone to stand behind the sofa to look over their shoulders. With a sigh, so did Niko. It was clear she wanted them to see the pictures, and with his mother, there was hardly ever a point in resisting. She would make her point or get her way.

“So handsome. My sons.” Galina tapped the photo of the two of them each wearing suits. The wedding had been in the early summer. Those suits had been ill fitting and hot. Niko couldn’t even remember ever seeing those pictures. With a snap, Galina shut the album and tossed it onto the coffee table. “I have something I need to talk to you both about.”

Theresa coughed. “Should I go? Is it private?”

“It’s a family matter,” Galina answered, “but I suppose you can stay.”

She looked around at all of them, fixing each with a few seconds’ worth of a steady, unblinking gaze before she looked down at her hands folded in her lap. Niko and his brother exchanged looks again. Waiting for the drama, because with their mother, there was always drama.

Galina looked up. “I’ve spent too much time away from my family. Losing my mother showed me how important it is that I be close to my boys. You never know how much time you have left, and I want to spend it with you.”