A smile tugged at his mouth, and she wanted to give in to his joke… unless it wasn’t a joke. She grimaced, not sure. Visions of Matthew, forced to walk her home, or even the argument that had finally led to their official breakup, flashed through her mind.
“You aren’t going to Russia and that’s final.”
Bossy. That was the way Matthew treated her. And suddenly Vadeem had acquired all sorts of Matthew attributes. Like carrying her in his arms out of the hospital, with Pyotr hot on his heels, at the crack of dawn, despite the fact that her legs worked just fine. Or calling a taxi and driving straight to the hotel, where Vadeem unceremoniously packed her bag. She’d been red-faced and not a little furious as he ordered her to sit in a chair. He hadn’t been too polite about it either.
The poor Watsons. They’d been left in the lurch, waiting in the lobby, aglow with hope, dressed to pick up little Gleb and welcome him into their family
“Not a chance,” Vadeem had barked, when John Watson pleaded with him.
Thank the Lord, Pyotr had diffused the situation by agreeing to take them to the orphanage and help them collect their son. Even now, his tall presence soothed her fragmenting heart. Tears pricked Kat’s eyes when the pastor enveloped her in a hug. He was so solid, strong and wise, and all she could do was stutter, “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry you never got a chance to talk to my mother,” he said, not looking at Vadeem who stared out onto the tarmac, watching the gray sky like a meteorologist. Kat almost wished for a cyclone. Anything to let her stay.
If she were a stronger person, perhaps she could stand up to Mr. Menace. But confrontation had never been her forte. Ditching was more her style. The thought played through her mind, and made this sudden jaunt east bearable.
“Me too,” she answered Pyotr. “Maybe someday.”
Vadeem glanced at her, but she deliberately ignored him and planted a kiss on Pyotr’s leathery cheek. “God Bless, Pyotr, and thank you for your help with the Watsons.”
“Anything for a sister in Christ,” Pyotr said, warmth in his blue eyes.
Kat’s eyes filled. Pyotr, mercifully, didn’t comment.
“Let’s go.” Vadeem stalked up to them and grabbed Kat’s suitcase. She bristled at the chill in his demeanor.
“Thanks again Pyotr.” He held out his hand.
Kat caught the look of genuine concern that crossed the pastor’s face as he took Vadeem’s grip. The two men stared at one another, one filled with compassion, the other hiding from it. Kat could almost hear a conversation being played in their silent expressions. Then Vadeem let go and tucked his arm around Kat, his face grim but unyielding. Kat’s hope took a final dive.
“Vadeem,” Pyotr said, reaching out and grabbing his arm. “If you ever want to… talk, I’m in Moscow now and again…”
Vadeem shrugged away from him. “Thanks, Pastor, but I don’t have anything more to say.”
Kat saw the way Pyotr pursed his lips, reining in further comment. But he didn’t nod or agree. Kat’s heart sank. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she’d given herself permission to believe Vadeem was just a lost believer, needing the guidance of a man of God in his life. But she’d seen the truth in his eyes. Yes, Vadeem was a believer all right. He believed so much that it was eating him alive. He didn’t want anything to do with God.
Or, maybe he did.
Maybe that was what the crying, the rage outside the church was all about. Spiritual battle.
Before sympathy could temper her anger, Vadeem propelled her toward the exit.
The doors whooshed behind them as they ran across the tarmac to the plane. Vadeem took her elbow as they started up the stairs, then practically pushed her along the twenty-passenger aisle to their seats. Yes, definitely bossy.
And to think she’d kissed him. She called herself every kind of fool as the plane took off and Vadeem sat like a sentry beside her, unmoving, his hands cupping his knees.
Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach and stayed there the entire way to Moscow.
The Moscow weather did nothing to lighten her mood. Gray, with low hanging clouds and not a hint of sunlight, the sky spat upon the window of the taxi. Kat traced a finger down the pane, following a raindrop.
Vadeem was on his cell phone, making her travel arrangements.
She hadn’t talked to him in two hours.
He’d tried. He’d asked about her family at home. Once commented on the airplane snacks. Even bought her a package of M&M’s. That dubious kindness nearly did her in. It took a clenched jaw and a determination to stare out the window to get past her conflicting emotions.
Finally, with a sigh, he gave up.
And that’s what hurt the most.
The taxi splashed past the Kremlin, towards the U.S. Embassy, where, Kat had no doubt Vadeem was anxious to unload her. They were probably already processing her new visa and passport, the one she’d unwittingly thrown at her dark attacker, along with her Bible.
“You’re flight leaves tomorrow at 2:00 p.m.”
Kat stared out the window, trying to find words to confront his utter betrayal.
“I’ll be by to take you to the plane.”
To make sure you obey me. The hurt pushed tears into her eyes.
“Please Kat, don’t cry.” His soft voice stabbed at her heart. She turned her shoulders away from him, refusing him the satisfaction of seeing her tears. She could hardly believe that yesterday morning he’d woken up in her arms, or that last night, she’d reached out and kissed him. The idiocy of her open heart swept bitterness into her chest.
“This is the best thing for you. I’m just trying to keep you safe.” He reached for her, cupping his hand under her chin, attempting to turn her. “Look at you. You look like you’ve been used as a punching bag. I don’t want that to become a reality.”
She swallowed back the lump of pain forming in her chest, pushing its way into her throat. Okay, she was ready to admit that someone was after her… but there were other options. Options that included him acting like a friend instead of booting her out of a country that held answers to questions she’d asked all her life. She felt as if he was ripping her future out of her hands, and the whimper she made sounded just like that.
“Kat,” he responded, “this little quest is not worth your life.” She felt the frustration in his low voice. He turned toward her and she covered her face with her hands. She heard his fist land in the back of the driver’s seat and shuddered. “What is so important that you’d risk your life? Over and over, I might add.”
“Family,” her voice betrayed her in a wretched whisper. “Belonging.”
The whir of wheels running on slick pavement filled his silence.
She closed her eyes, willing her voice steady. “I came here to find family, because I have none.”
“What are you talking about?” His voice hovered just above a whisper. “What about the grandfather you keep talking about.”
She couldn’t look at him. Wouldn’t. Her eyes filled and she clenched her jaw, fighting the tears.
“I’m not related to him.” She lifted her chin, stared out the car window at the chipped, graying building, an appropriate backdrop to her despair. “All my life, I knew I was different. I even look different. My family all has dark hair, green eyes. But I’ve got amber eyes and light brown hair. Why? I don’t know, and that’s the problem. My parents were killed when I was ten, and I grew up with my grandfather.” Kat leaned her forehead against the window, the cool glass a balm against her skin. “What they all don’t know, not even Grandfather, is that I know the truth.”