6

My sunglasses hid most of my face. My black dress fluttered with the breeze.

Red roses covered the black shiny casket. An empty casket. There was nothing left of Adrian to bury. Another bouquet of red roses was thrown on the casket. The color was stark against the shiny black, reminding me of blood.

Blood spilled. Blood wasted.

I stared at the date carved into the fancy niche plaque.

The date of his death. It’d soon be turned into just another crypt. It’d be a cold stone, just like his memories.

The sky darkened and the large clouds moved, hovering above me. The first raindrop was only an opening. Another followed, then another, until it became a constant pitter-patter. People slowly dispersed, running for cover. Absent-mindedly, I noticed Vasili opening an umbrella to shelter his wife and children.

Sasha opened his umbrella and took two steps towards me, sheltering me from the rain. The pitter-patter became louder. Puddles began forming fast around me, and I watched the water surround me. Dampness seeped through my dress and into my bones.

Drowning.

This felt like drowning amongst the living.

Fourteen days since the accident. My brothers had questions too, and I had no answers for them. No idea how I got there. No idea how I survived the explosion that left no trace of him. It left me with nothing - no memory, no clues. Nothing.

Nothing felt real anymore.

Not the casket. Not the thorned roses wrapped around it. Not the people who stood surrounding the gravesite.

“We should go,” Sasha murmured. The rites were read, the final blessings given, final goodbyes said. From all except me. I stood still, staring at the eternal resting place covered in flowers. “You need to rest.”

Except, nightmares and voices came when I slept. Whispers. Ghosts.

I swallowed, watching the coffin disappear into the tomb until I could no longer see it. My hands shook. My temples throbbed. But it was nothing compared to the clenching of my heart. The suffocating pain, dragging me deeper and deeper into a dark abyss.

The lump in my throat grew bigger until it was impossible to breathe. Until I felt nothing. Just a numbness, which spread through my veins. The silence grew heavy, but I accepted it. It was better than those whispers I heard in my dreams. Tormenting me.

The cool breeze swept through the graveyard, soaking the rain into my dress, which clung to my legs. I felt like I was suffocating. There wasn’t enough space. There wasn’t enough oxygen.

There wasn’t enough room for the living and the dead.

A shuddering breath left me as fear rolled down my spine. I had never been scared, knowing my brothers would always be there to save me. But now I feared these demons were unbeatable. And the secrets Adrian left behind were punishable.

“Tatiana, let’s go,” Sasha repeated. Another shuddering breath filled my lungs.

Black suits slowly drifted away, taking their black hearts with them. The sea of underworld men came to pay respects. Russian. Italian. American. Canadian. Colombian. A sea of black, which I’d always been a part of. No matter how much my brothers sheltered me.

My eyes flickered to my brother, seeing him through the fog of grief. It felt like I wasn’t really here. But then I was.

“We have to go home, Sister,” Sasha said softly. I didn’t want to go back home. I didn’t want to be alone. Yet, I felt so fucking alone no matter where I was or who I was with. Except for the damn ghosts haunting me. They were in my mind, thriving. Torturing me. And when I slept, my mind revolted. I couldn’t understand my dreams… memories… or paranoia. “You’ll stay with me.”

I shook my head wordlessly. I couldn’t let anyone hear my dreams. I couldn’t let anyone know.

My mind immediately revolted, remembering last night’s dream.

I smiled so much that my cheeks ached. But it was a good feeling.

“Look, Adrian. Our baby,” I beamed, glancing up from the hospital bed to find my husband’s eyes. Except, displeasure stared back at me. Instinctively, I shifted my body, shielding the baby.

“Adrian?” I asked, hesitantly. “What’s the matter?”

“I told you,” he hissed as he took a step forward. Then another. And a dark, looming shadow clouded over me, stealing my happiness. “I told you, Tatiana. No children.”

“But it’s a blessing,” I rasped, my voice hoarse with emotions.

“No, it’s a curse,” he bellowed. “A poisonous thorn.”

His face twisted. I didn’t recognize him. His hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing. Harder and harsher. My lungs seized.

“P-P-Please.” My body shook. I held my baby, but I could feel my strength leaving me. I didn’t want to drop my newborn miracle. Shoving my elbow against my husband’s ribs, I fought. I was a Nikolaev. We fight. We never give up.

Then Adrian’s big hand wrapped around my baby’s throat and terror, unlike any I’d ever felt before, shot through me.

But before he could take one squeeze.

Bang.

Dead eyes.

“Tatiana.”

I startled, jumping in my spot. My body shook. My ears buzzed. Adrenaline swam through my veins, as if the nightmare was real. My oldest brother’s hands came to my shoulders and squeezed as if he tried to pass me some of his own strength. It wasn’t enough.

My mind was tormenting me. Maybe I was crazy like our mother.

“You have to say goodbye, Sestra.” Vasili’s voice came from behind me. It had been only two weeks. How did one say goodbye in two weeks? I needed more time. I needed answers.

“Tell us what you need.” Sasha attempted a different tactic. I didn’t bother turning around to see them. I was scared they’d see something in my eyes that would reveal my demons. “Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I let the pain and doubts fester inside me. The ache burned through my veins, leaving me empty and confused. And I was certain it had something to do with the accident.

Except, I couldn’t fucking remember.

So I remained, standing in my spot.

“I’ll be right there,” I choked out. “Just wait for me in the car.”

They shared a fleeting glance, then Vasili nodded and they left me. Their footsteps faded with each step they took against the century old stone of the St. Louis Cemetery, leaving me alone with the ghosts and the dead.

With him.

I stared at the word husband and friend for the longest time, searching for something. Something pricked my mind, but it refused to come forward.

My skin prickled. My gaze caught a movement to my side. A tall figure stood by a car, hands in his pockets and his gaze on me. It touched my skin and a shudder rolled down my spine.

My brows furrowed and I winced from pain. There was a familiarity about him. I’d seen him before. I was certain of it, but I couldn’t remember where.

Who is he? I thought as I brought my hand to my cheek and gently massaged the fading bruise. His eyes followed my movement and darkened as a muscle ticked under his stubbled jaw.

Who was this man? He seemed familiar. Important.

Now I wished my brothers had remained behind so I could ask them. The man was tall. Taller than most men, including my brothers. Dressed in all black and a gray coat that reached to his knees. He looked elegant. Dark. Dangerous. Familiar.

The feeling of familiarity pulled on my consciousness.

The voice in my head. Stay alive, Tatiana. For me. Stay alive, moya luna.

It called to me - calling me his moon. His eyes were intense, even from this distance. There was something uncomfortable in his dark gaze - borderline aching. It was as if he demanded something from me, but I didn’t know what.

A feeling I couldn’t shake off consumed me. Except, I couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

Moya luna. Russian. The voice was speaking Russian. Could it have been Adrian? Except, he hadn’t called me that since that night in the gazebo. It was always pipsqueak and I had outgrown that nickname.

The intense stranger watched me, his thick brows drawing over his eyes and something about him kept dragging me into his savage darkness. His dark eyes reminded me of the harshness of Russian winters - merciless and bone chillingly cold.

I swallowed, then glanced around me. Everyone was gone. Just the stranger and I remained.

With a shake of my head, I returned my eyes to the crypt.

“Goodbye, Adrian,” I muttered softly, then rushed in my brothers’ direction. The stranger’s eyes remained on me like a thorn in my skin.

Strangely enough, it was almost a pleasurable pain.

Maybe I had turned masochistic and sought pain to torture myself.