In a sudden torrent of memory, I recall every instance I walked into her room to find the two of them sitting together, laughing about some inside joke or sharing some sentimental story with each other. Nikolai opened up to her about our childhood. He doesn’t even talk about that s**t with me. But with Alyssa… there are different lines drawn in the sand. Or maybe none at all.
My hands ball into fists when I think about Alyssa assuring me that she and Nikolai were just friends. She was pissed at my own anger, matter of fact. The word trust had been bandied about. As though it meant something to her. As though it meant something to him.
“Get out of my way,” I hiss as I charge for the door.
Grigory has the forethought to spring out of my line of fire, but his eyes skewer me just before I l
