When I finally look over at him, his face is white. “What in the f**k was that, Viv?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “That wasn’t a normal fear. That was—I don’t know what that was.”
And if I have it my way, he never will.
There’s a long pause. I know Anatoly wants to push for answers. I can see in his face that he doesn’t believe me, that he’s worried about me. Finally, he pushes himself to standing.
“I think he forgot about hide-and-seek when Mikhail got home.” He offers me his hand and helps me to my feet. “I was supposed to come find you. Dinner is ready.”
I swipe at my sticky cheeks. I am not ready for a formal dinner right now. I need a shower and Xanax and twelve hours of dreamless sleep.
Unfortunately, I’m at the beck and call of Mikhail Novikov.
I hold my arms out to the side. “
