Zaal’s head was down as he loomed beyond the bars.
“Why were you hiding, sykhaara?”
His shoulders dropped and he ran his hand through his long hair. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me. But I needed to know you were safe. I needed to make sure you were okay.”
In an act of possession, I ran my hand over Valentin’s arm around my waist and tucked myself farther against his chest. Valentin never stirred, but I heard a soft sigh escape his lips and blow against my hair.
I smiled a whisper of a smile and lifted his hand to kiss his warm clean skin. A sound from beyond the cell pulled my attention, and when I glanced up I saw Zaal had sat down on the floor, right in the center of the doorway. He leaned against the rigid bars, his torso facing mine.
I stared at my brother. He had his legs bent and his strong arms leaning on his elbows. His head was down, and my heart sank with disappointment at how awkward our meeting had been.
Keeping hold of Valentin’s hand for strength, I admitted, “I did not imagine that our reunion would be so strained.”
Zaal tensed. I watched as his head dropped farther forward. Inhaling deeply, he agreed, “Neither did I.”
He didn’t add anything else. In this reserved persona I saw the Zaal of old. Anri had always been the joker, the louder of the two. He would speak for Zaal, Zaal—quiet, timid, but just as strong—stood at Anri’s side. It seemed all the years spent apart had not changed the fact that Zaal was happy to let others speak while he sat back and watched the world from afar.
I pictured him laughing with Talia and wondered if she was louder in personality. I hoped so. Zaal needed someone vibrant in his life. He was never happy being alone.
Sighing, I ran my hand down my face and said, “I dreamed what meeting you again would be like.” I huffed a laugh and admitted, “I fear I may have placed too much expectation on that dream. The reality of seeing you again is so different.”
Zaal tensed. His head moved as if my words had struck a sensitive chord. Panicking, I proclaimed, “I love you, sykhaara. This has never changed. And I am so unbelievably happy you are here. You’re my big brother and I have you back. I have family again.” I laughed, gentler this time, and said, “You know you were always my favorite. You were my hero and my heart. That is unchanged. In fact, seeing you again has only strengthened that love.”
Zaal kept his head down, and I pleaded, “Please look at me, sykhaara.”
Zaal raised his head. His bright green gaze met mine. Just as I thought he would not speak again, he rasped brokenly, “I watched you die. I watched you all die. I see it so clearly now—the screams, the blood, all of it.” He tapped his head. “But the drugs stole that from me for many years. They made it all go away. Jakhua made me his dog. I killed him for that, but worse, he stole my memories of you, of Anri, of all the family.” His face contorted. “I am still missing some years. Some things I can’t remember, but I always remembered you.” Zaal lifted his hand to touch his three moles. His eyes warmed as he did, and I whispered, “One, two, three.”
Zaal slowly nodded his head and his thick lips hooked into a shy smile. It quickly dropped, but he confessed, “The memories came back quickly, but so did the pain. I relived everything over and over again, and it’s been killing me, Zoya.” He clenched his hands, then added, “It killed me remembering you the most, reaching out your little arms for me to take. Screaming for me to save you. It kept me awake every night.” He shook his head in disbelief. “And now you’re here. Before me. But older and different. A woman. A strong woman.” Zaal smiled. “You think Papa would have been proud of me. I know he would have been proud of you. What you’ve been through…”
His eyes fell on Valentin’s arms holding me possessively, and I said, “He’s not leaving me. I’m not leaving him. I love him.”
Zaal sighed and dropped his head again. “He hurt you, Zoya. I saw it. And I fucking broke. I don’t know if I can get past it. You fell for your torturer.”
I held Valentin tighter and glanced behind me to see his scarred face relaxed in sleep. The face I once thought of as monstrous I now only saw as beautiful. Leaning in, I kissed the long scar on his cheek and said, “I love him. I know how it looks, but you only saw glimpses of him on the drugs, or fighting for his sister.” With a final stroke of his cheek, I turned back to Zaal. “You would have done the same. Tell me, if Jakhua had me locked away and on the Type B drug, if you had to watch me get raped by men but were promised that if you just killed one more hit I would be free, would you have done whatever he would have asked?”
Zaal’s jaw clenched, and he said darkly, “I wouldn’t have had a choice if I was on the drugs.”
“So was Valentin.”
“Not all the time,” Zaal argued.
“And if that was you, what would you have done?”
Zaal’s silence told me I’d finally gotten through. Shaking my head, I said, “I do not want to argue, sykhaara. But I won’t give him up. Our lives have been so hard. I have forever dreamed of finding my true love. I never imagined it would be through this dark path, but I find myself here and happy. I find myself in love with this man.”
Zaal stared at Valentin’s hand in mine. I brought it to lie under my cheek and proclaimed, “Zaal, I shall make you a deal.”
Zaal frowned. A ghost of a humored smile spread on his lips. He waited for me to speak. Hope stirred in my heart. “Kisa and I spoke at length. She helped me see things clearly. I”—I coughed, finding the next sentence difficult—“I would like to know Talia. I would like to know your love, because she is yours.” I forced to the side the pain of who her family was, and I continued, “She is your present and your future. As sad as it makes me, I am your past.” Making sure Zaal’s eyes were fixed on mine, I said, “We knew each other as children, Zaal, when life was simple and easy. I would very much like to know you now.” I fought the thickness from my throat. “I would very much like you to be my best friend again.”
“I want that too, so much,” Zaal admitted hoarsely.
I smiled on noticing the tension leave his shoulders. “But you have to accept Valentin. He is mine; I am his. That’s how it will be. You do not know what he has been through, though if you took the time to speak to him you might find you are not so dissimilar.”
Zaal glanced away but curtly nodded his head. “I asked him to speak to me over the past three days. I asked him to explain everything to me, but he wouldn’t. He just kept telling me you were better off without him, that he was your Tbilisi monster in the woods. That there was no good in his heart, like you thought there was.”
Tears fell down my cheeks on my hearing that Valentin had said such sad things. “He has lost his sister, Zaal.” I pointed at Zaal, then to myself. “Just like you had lost me. He is broken.” Zaal remained still, unmoving, and I added quietly, “But I think I can heal him. I think I can give him something he has never had before.”
“What’s that?” Zaal asked huskily.
“Love. Affection. A safe place. Someone who actually cares for him.” I blushed and said, “The way he watched me as I cleaned him and tucked him in bed, it makes me want to hold him and never ever let go. He calls himself an ugly scarred beast, but I also see the beautiful man beneath. Even if you don’t, he’s there. And he’s the other half of my soul. Whether it is rational or not. Whether it’s wrong or not.”
Zaal was quiet for many minutes, then nodded his head. “I will get to know him and I will accept him. We were all fucked up by those people. But now he is out, and he is strong. And if Luka and I are any indication, he will find it hard adjusting to life outside.” Zaal patted his chest. “As your brother, I will help him adjust.”
My cheeks were wet with gratitude. Gently moving out of Valentin’s embrace, I stood up from the mat and walked to Zaal. Zaal got to his feet and stood anxiously before me. A wave of shattering emotion, mainly gratitude, washed over me. Needing my big brother, I launched forward and wrapped my arms around his waist. Zaal held me close, and I warmed knowing this was the reunion we should have had. This was Zoya holding her Zaal—like it always should have been.