“Still you.” She slams the door in my face, and I snap my head back at its impact with the doorframe. I grit my teeth and cross the hall to my room, fucking furious, reaching for another cigarette and lighting it up.
As I take my first drag and breathe it out, I grit my teeth and look out at the early evening sky. Thick snow clouds are mostly covering it and large flakes are falling down, promising a turn of the weather. Not a good turn, I’ll tell you that much.
Not good at all.
7
ESPIE
“He is the worst human being I’ve ever met.” I growl, throwing myself onto the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. I think it’s bigger than king-sized. Is that even a thing? Are all Russians giants?
I groan into a pillow as Olive angrily unpacks, and all I can think about is the way Adrik looked when he spoke to me. Not the treacherous words coming out of his pretty mouth, or the cutting accusations, or the fact that I accidentally insinuated a possible void of our marital contract.
Nope. None of that. All I can think about is his face, his tattooed neck and hands, and probably arms and chest, and—
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Espie, will you help me?” Olive snaps, sounding a little aggressive, and I stand to aid her, unzipping another punch in my suitcase and following her to a giant closet almost as big as the massive room we’re staying in.
“This is your side.” Olive waves her hand to the right side of the closet and I find a hanger there to hang up this Versace dress that Olive definitely packed for me.
“You know, you’re giving him what he wants.” Olive finally says, after we’re nearly unpacked, stomachs growling from not eating for far too many hours.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He likes to mess with you, and you let him.”
“I do not.” I cross my arms over my chest defensively.
“Espie, I know you. You let him under your skin too easily.” I try to hold by my defense, telling me to argue with her. Maybe she’s right. It’s possible that I do go back and forth with him longer than I should. I could shut the conversation down at any time, walk away and not look back, but I don’t always do that. Not until it’s gone too far.
“Fine.” I relent.
“Fine?”
“Yes. Maybe I do… do that.”
“Hm.” She zippers her suitcase with a nod and lifts it up to one of the shelves in the closet. I hand her mine, and she does the same to it, storing it right next to hers.
“We need food.” I say after it’s so quiet I can hear her stomach growl, and we’re sitting watching snow pile up outside the window.
“Well, obviouslysmokestackover there isn't planning on eating anything tonight.”
“So, we find out where the kitchen is.” I stand, offering her my hand.
“I’m sure there’s a lot of them.” She doesn’t take it.
“Potentially, Barth will be in a better mood? Help us get something, so we don’t starve.” I suggest, and she stands with a sigh.
“This isn’t the vacation I thought it would be.”
“Really? How ever did you expect it to go?” I try not to give her a look to accompany my sarcasm.
“I don’t know. I just wanted it to be fun for us. For you, mostly.”
“For me? Why?”
“Because it’s bullshit.” We step out of the bedroom and proceed to the main staircase.