“What is this?” I finally ask, my voice small and squeaky in my ears.
Alek gives me a quizzical look.
“Didn’t your father tell you? Your husband requires a medical examination prior to….”
I don’t hear much after that before everything goes black.
* * *
I wake up shifting and bouncing in the backseat of my father’s truck. A groan leaves my lips, my head pounding.
What happened?
I remember entering that scary medical looking room with Alek, and then he said something about an examination and a husband….
“You sure fucked up this time,” Vasily’s voice cuts through the memories. I dart my head to the side to see him driving. My head pounds and I wonder if I hit the ground when I passed out. It’s still light out, but somehow it seems much later in the day. I wonder how long I was out for.
“What do you mea—”
The truck stops suddenly and I go flying off the seat to the ground. My body crumples painfully and my eyes are wide as I take in Vasily’s hands on the wheel, gripping tightly against the worn leather. Seeing that the tendons in his neck are thick and tight, I cringe. My body shakes, and I have to keep my teeth from clattering.
“Don’t play stupid, kurva,” he replies, his voice much too calm and quiet. He puts the truck back into gear, and he continues driving. “We’ll discuss this when we get home”
The drive seems to take forever.
* * *
I’m yanked out of the truck without ceremony, dumped onto the ground, and dragged. In the distance, I can see one of my brothers running this way as Vasily pushes me into the house.
“The only fucking thing I gave you of value is the Pushkin name, and you fucked that up by being a little whore!” The smack that causes me to see stars is deafening, and I cry out as I hit the floor. His foot comes out, and I hear a crack in my chest as it connects, my breath leaving me in a whoosh.
“Who was it?” he shrieks, kicking me again. “That fucking fat butcher’s kid?”
I try to scramble away, but I still meet the edge of his boot, leaving me gasping for air. Someone appears in the door and I hear a gasp.
“Father…,” Krystof starts, but Vasily whips around, pointing a finger at his eldest.
“Stay the fuck out of this, boy,” he warns. “This little cunt isn’t even your real sister.”
I manage to look up to see the tightening of Krystof’s face. Though I know it doesn’t sit well with him, he can’t save me. Beside him, Maxim has a look of satisfaction and hunger on his face. I can’t even bring myself to look at Dmitri who I hear enter from the back door.
Vasily’s hand comes down to lift my head by my hair, and I gargle as my neck is pulled back. His face is close to mine, his hot breath on my cheek.
“Who the fuck was it?” he demands. “Who’d you fuck? Or was it more than one?”
He slams my face down into the ground, and I feel warmth run down from my hairline. My vision is blurry, and I wonder how long he can beat on me before I pass out entirely. I hope it happens soon.
I do know that no matter what he does to me, I’ll never betray my secret. Never betray my brother. A tear slips free from my eye and I realize I’ve been crying.
“I’ve been wandering down to Shakhty for months,” I goad him, my voice hoarse. “Better the village whore than yours.”
Maybe if I make him angrier, he’ll just kill me and get it over with.
Crack.
This time, something in my chest does crack, and I can't hold back my sobs, the shriek releasing from my throat is shattering. I hear his footsteps retreating, but I don’t look, certain Vasily has gone to get something to hurt me with or choosing the method for my end. He approaches, but I don’t open my eyes. I hold my breath at the sound of jangling chains. The next words I hear are more horrifying than anything I could have ever imagined.
“It was me.”