My jaw drops. “He sings?”
Polly chuckles softly. “He’s actually got an amazing voice. He just doesn’t use it very often. I know what you’re thinking: what can’t he do, right?”
“Nothing, it seems,” I mumble distractedly. “Except be vulnerable.” Polly turns her head towards me and I bite my tongue. “I’m sorry; that kinda slipped out.”
She chuckles. “No, it’s okay. You’re totally right. He’s not good at that.”
“Was it always that way?”
“Pretty much. Ever since I can remember, at least. But then again, he was really young, too, when everything happened. He became responsible for the entire family and the entire Bratva in one night.”
I frown. “Can I ask you something, Polly?”
“Sure.”
“Nikolai’s older than Uri, right?”
“Mm. You wanna know why Uri took over and not Nikolai?” She shifts, the sheets scrunching up with her limited motion. “From what I was allowed to see, Nikolai kinda broke down right after my parents died. He locked himself away and refused to participate in anything. So Uri had to step up. He was the one in the hospital looking out for Lev. He was the one at home, taking care of me. He was the one in every Bratva meeting, calling the shots, making decisions. I don’t think he wanted to be pakhan—I think it chose him. And by the time Nikolai reappeared, the status quo had been established. Uri just became who he had to be.”
“Oh,” I say softly. It’s a broad strokes story, but I feel like I can sense little gaps in it where the heartbreak shines through. I can just imagine Uri burying his grief first thing each morning as he rose to do what his family needed him to do. Shoving it all somewhere deep inside him so it didn’t reach up from within and strangle him.
I know that feeling.
I’ve lived that feeling.
“He doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve because he’s afraid to lose it, Alyssa. I know he cares about you, but he’s terrified to lose anyone else. Especially someone who’s as important to him as you are.”
A timid shiver runs down my spine. “Uri and I are just…” Well, what are we exactly? “Uri and I are nothing.”
Polly raises her eyebrows a fraction. It’s amazing how much I can see now in the darkness. “I’m fourteen, Alyssa. I’m not stupid.”
I smile. “No one could ever accuse you of being stupid, Polly.”
“Do you love my brother?”
I’m glad she can’t see that my cheeks are probably beet red at this point. “That’s a heavy question.”
Polly shrugs. “Look at where we are. I figure it’s the time for heavy questions.”
She may have a point but I still can’t bring myself to say it out loud. Hell, I can’t even say it to myself. “He’s different than what I expected. I care about him—”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“What I feel for him is… complicated,” I say eventually.
It’s not exactly a lie. But it’s not the truth, either. There’s a part of me that feels hate and anger and resentment towards Uri. I’m frustrated and tired of the constant, nauseating back and forth he inflicts on me.
But in the midst of all those negative emotions is the truth of how I feel.
Which is that I hate to disappoint him. I hate that I’ve let him down by exposing his siblings to danger.
And the only reason I feel that way is because I admire and respect him for the way he takes care of his family. I worry about who’s taking care of him while he’s busy taking care of everyone else. I’m scared that he’s in danger right now and I want more than anything to see him again.
And not just for the child we accidentally made together.
For myself, too.
But since facing that truth feels too hard, too terrifying, too shocking… I fall back on my coping mechanism and cling to denial.
“Do you think he’ll come for us?” Polly asks in a strained voice that’s close to tears.
“Polly, you and I both know that he will move mountains for you. In the short time I’ve known your brother, I know that to be true. You need to believe that.”
“I-I do…” she says softly. “I’m just scared.”
“I know you are. I am, too. But don’t worry,” I assure her, making up my mind right then and there. “I’m here. I’ll protect you.”
“Why would you do that for me?”