Pav eyed the woman in question. Viktoria hadn’t gone far—to the luggage carousel where she was currently waiting with glaring eyes at the ready for anyone who thought to come to close to her. She had slept barely a wink the last two nights they’d remained in Russia, and she’d refused to speak to anyone but him. She only came out of her room when Pav asked her to, and only if he could assure, she wouldn’t have to face her father. On the trip home, she slept for each flight. The whole way through.
“I don’t know all the details,” Pav said, “but she had a run-in with Vadim. He said some things about the incident with Boris, and that upset her a great deal.”
“What things?”
“She only told me that Vadim was horrible, and she couldn’t stay there any longer. That was it.”
Konstantin’s jaw worked hard, and he passed a quick look over his shoulder at Viktoria just thirty feet away. Pav didn’t need the man to say the things he was thinking—they could both see what was right in front of their faces, neither of them were blind.
Viktoria was in a bad place; she was dealing with something inside her mind, and they couldn’t see in there.
“He’s always been horrible,” Konstantin muttered.
“But did she know that?”
“She pretended like she didn’t. I take it she can no longer do that.”
“You would have to ask her.”
Konstantin winced a bit, turning back to Pav. “Better to just let her … work through it on her own. Vik never reacts well when someone pushes her when she would much rather be left alone to deal with whatever it is.”
Pav disagreed.
The only way to get Viktoria out of her head was to make her do it. Pav tended to be quite talented at getting Viktoria to react when he wanted her to, and given that he was able to handle all of her reactions—good or bad—he wasn’t concerned.
“She has idolized a man who was not worthy of being an idol for a long time,” Konstantin said quietly. “And so I imagine that’s brought with it a whole host of issues.” The man chuckled dryly. “Daddy issues, if you will.”
Pav said nothing.
What was there to say?
“Also, I have these for you,” Konstantin said.
He pulled the three knives they’d all but forced Pav to hand over before he’d left for Russia with Viktoria. That had been quite an argument, but Konstantin was adamant. No questions asked, Pav could not take the damn knives on the plane with him. If Konstantin didn’t take them, then it was likely the security would confiscate them entirely. Was that a risk he wanted to take? That he might never get them back?
Not particularly.
There was a split second as he’d removed his knives and gave them to another man that he’d felt almost … naked.
Weak, even.
He’d had those knives for almost as long as he’d been at the Compound. He took as good of care of them as he did the men in the chambers. Each night, he pulled them out to carefully inspect them and clean the handles and blades. When nothing else could really be trusted around him, he felt comfort in knowing those blades were always waiting at his back. He didn’t regularly use them, but he liked knowing that they were close by should he need to pull one out when the time called for it.
Except, they’d taken them.
No knives on a plane, apparently.
Fucking stupid.
Pav was quick to take the knives off Konstantin’s hands and slip them into the pockets of his jacket. None of the people moving around them in the airport noticed the exchange, and once Pav had his knives back, he felt slightly better. Not that the knives made a true difference to his ability to kill someone or get a job done. He could do those things with or without the knives. He simply didn’t like being without them.
“I told you I would get them back to you, didn’t I?” Konstantin asked.
Pav’s jaw clenched. “I’m not used to Boykovs keeping their words. Forgive me for my honesty, Konstantin.”
The man smirked a bit. “But you’re only really accustomed to one Boykov man, aren’t you? I don’t think Vadim is a good representation of the rest of us, all things considered.”
That may be so.
He wouldn’t deny it.
The facts still remained …
“It was enough to teach me a lesson about the rest of you.”
Konstantin’s grin faded quick. “And what was that?”
“I don’t hand you my trust. You earn it.”
A simple nod answered him back. “Understood.”
“Are we leaving now?”
At the impatient, cold voice slipping over the arrivals area, Pav sighed. He looked Viktoria’s way to find she had gotten her luggage, and even his small bag that had gone under the plane, too. She arched a brow at him when his gaze met hers.
Difficult.
Sassy.
Cold.
Nasty.
He adored her for those things.
He also wished she didn’t use them as a defense.
All in due time …
Viktoria looked to Konstantin, then. “Well, is he coming with me now? You seem to think I always need a babysitter—I’d rather it be him. I want to go home.”
“Have fun with that tonight,” Konstantin told Pav. “She sounds like she’s in a really winning mood at the moment.”
“Understatement.”
That was all he gave Konstantin as a reply before he headed after Viktoria. He figured nothing else really needed to be said.
Konstantin’s voice trailed after him. “Oh, and there’s a man guarding the house, Pav. Keep an eye out for him.”
He tossed two fingers up high over his shoulder; the only acknowledgement he offered. Viktoria was waiting for him, after all. Pav had found lately that he really liked following
