Nina raised her chin. “Not at all.”
Nina sailed out of the room, and Mrs. Ferguson herded the rest of us toward the kitchen.
“Is that your famous meat lasagna I smell?” Kingston asked as he rubbed his hands together.
“Of course,” Mrs. Ferguson said with a pleased smile. “I have to take every advantage to feed you boys before the season starts.”
As we walked into the kitchen, I had to admit that it smelled absolutely divine. Mrs. Ferguson had already set the meal out on the kitchen table, and it looked just as good as it smelled.
Kingston plopped down and enthusiastically started scooping lasagna onto his plate. Maverik rolled his eyes at his brother, but he reached for the garlic bread with a faint smile on his face. I stood awkwardly to the side. I knew the guys hated me just as much as they hated my mother, but they had stepped in to help me today. Should I try to make peace?
My decision was made for me when Mrs. Ferguson turned her back, and Maverik gave me a death stare. I made a face back at him, but little prickles of loss pained me. Babulya, Ryan, and I had a lot of family dinner together, just like this. My heart ached for Ryan and Babulya, but I couldn’t let Maverik see my pain.
I mumbled something and whirled away. Tears budded in my eyes as I ran upstairs to my room. I never expected to be welcomed here as part of the family, but standing on the outside looking in was more painful than I thought it would be. It just reminded me of everything that I’d lost. Even though I already spent the first part of my day in the studio, I needed to go back. I found my ballet things and changed as the tears still came down.
Before I left my room, I stared in the mirror. The mark on my face was gone, but my red eyes and tearstains made it apparent that I’d been crying. I sighed, realizing I couldn’t let anyone see me like this. As I washed my face, I realized how stupid I was being. I got my feelings hurt because two teenaged boys were being jerks to me. Instead of sucking it up and trying to enjoy the nice dinner Mrs. Ferguson made for us, I ran away. I hoped I hadn’t hurt Mrs. Ferguson’s feelings by suddenly disappearing. She was so nice to me earlier today.
I looked at the time on my phone and decided to wait until I was sure the boys were done eating. Then, I’d go downstairs and apologize to Mrs. Ferguson. Obviously, she didn’t get along with my mother, so I didn’t want her to think I was just as terrible as Nina.
Chapter 12
Katya
Mrs. Ferguson was very understanding, and she even insisted I eat the salad she made for me. I still went back to work in my studio, but after dinner with Mrs. Ferguson, the need didn’t seem as urgent. It was nice to spend time with someone who didn’t hate me completely. I tried calling Ryan again once I was snuggled into my fluffy comforter for the night, but he didn’t pick up.
Another rush of loneliness hit me. Ryan and I had shared his small bedroom since my babushka died, so I should be grateful for all the personal space. However, I missed being able to turn to the side and see him right across the room. Now, I had no one to whisper to after the lights went out. I couldn’t wake up from a nightmare and sneak in his bed to snuggle. I was utterly alone.
The shadows in my room seemed too dark, and the silence was deafening. I got up out of my bed and grabbed my earbuds. Maybe some quiet background music would help me get to sleep tonight. I closed my eyes and hoped that the soundtrack to the Nutcracker would bring me nothing but ballet dreams.
I must have drifted off at some point, because the next thing I knew, I was sleepily blinking my eyes. I thought I heard a scuffling noise, but didn’t see anything, so it must have been my imagination. I closed my eyes again and tried to go back to sleep. I was such a wimp that I couldn’t even manage to sleep in a room by myself. I turned on my side and snuggled deeper into my covers.
My eyes flew open when I felt a large weight land on my bed next to me. Before I could scream, a hand was covering my mouth. I scratched at him, but the man climbed on top of me, one knee on either side of my torso. I tried to kick at him, but a second man took hold of my legs.
Neither of them spoke as they rapidly bound and gagged me. I tried to scream and fight, but they were too smooth and efficient, not to mention, strong. Tears of frustration were forming in my eyes, but I held in my sobs. Being a terrified weakling wouldn’t help me. I needed to be smart and bide my time for an opening.
One of the men lifted me over his shoulder and held me tightly in place. My heart pounded, but I tried to think rationally. Was this a couple of men from the Bratva? Had they finally made their move? I never expected them to follow me outside of New York. How had they gotten in here?
My captor silently carried me down the hall along with his partner, and I started to panic again. What would happen to me if they managed to get me out of the house? I tried screaming again, but my muffled cries weren’t strong enough for anyone but my kidnappers to hear.
Even if someone heard me,
