‘Home,’ Demyan said, and reached over and flicked the indicator to turn right as Alina gripped the wheel. ‘I am sorry to call you out this late...’
‘No, you’re not.’ Alina turned briefly and looked at him.
She was right, he wasn’t sorry at all, for were she not here, God knew where he might be now. Demyan’s world was out of control, just tipped off its axis, and he wanted it back in place.
He was on the edge of emotion and it was a place he avoided at all costs, a place he chose not to visit. Yet tonight he could not escape.
‘I had a fight with—’
‘I don’t care,’ Alina broke in, telling herself that she just wanted him out of her car, just wanted her boss delivered home, and after the inspection tomorrow she would have no dealings with him ever again, but Demyan continued speaking.
‘I had a fight with Mikael,’ Demyan said. ‘My lawyer.’
‘Oh, very wise,’ Alina snapped, as Demyan answered his phone.
‘Mikael...’ He chatted for a few minutes and Alina simply didn’t understand. Yes, they were speaking in Russian, but what she didn’t understand was that the conversation sounded amicable. ‘He has called to see how I am.’
Alina shrugged.
‘What I said back at the hotel—’
‘Was crude.’
‘But necessary,’ Demyan said. ‘You deserve someone less...’ He paused. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his hand circling but it wasn’t shyness now that kept her from jumping in, there was no one word to describe him.
‘You might not understand but I was trying to look out for you then. I don’t do tender, I don’t—’
‘You did,’ Alina choked. ‘When we were at the farm...’
His head felt as if it was splitting, his body ached from the taser, his heart was screaming for his son, and there was nothing left but his billions.
They approached the building and she turned off the engine and removed his keys.
‘Come up,’ Demyan said, because he could not stand to be in there yet he could not bear not to be.
‘No, thank you’
‘You have to come up, I can’t remember the security number.’
‘Liar.’
‘Come up,’ Demyan said again.
‘Why?’ Alina challenged. ‘I might want to do something unspeakable, like talk, I might want—’ She never got to finish. Demyan’s voice broke in and told her the truth.
‘You know why.’
She did, it was there at her base and there was this ripple of delicious fear as she stepped out of the car that she was about to see the real Demyan, the other real Demyan that she so badly wanted to know.
‘Demyan—’
‘I have no wish to speak.’