- So you are already winding fishing rods? I chuckled, not noticing the heat coming from him. - Do you think that the game is not worth the candle? You're a corrupt dog, Astakhov, so wipe away a stingy, masculine tear and don't worry about anything: the war won't affect you,' I added, arching an eyebrow. “My husband will pay you well to guard my chest away from the flooded streets, and we will both survive your ignorance of courtesy.- Do you feel it? - Astakhov missed my causticity and put his hand to the place under my chest where the bullet he fired entered me. - Bullet, I mean. Do you feel it in you?"Sometimes," I replied, confused by the sudden change in subject and tone.- And now? The wolfhound looked into my eyes.He was tall and even in heels I was shorter than him."Now I feel your hand where it shouldn't be," I replied.Goosebumps ran up from the place where his hand touched, and as if trying to catch up with them and bring them back, his hand persistently touched his ches
I turned around to face him and wrapped my arms around his neck.Ah, that bittersweet ultimatum! So classic. So banal. So masculine.He or I. Me or him.There is no third.I just didn’t understand one thing: if Grisha was going to kill Boris, how did he imagine that I could make a choice in favor of the dead man? Or did he think I might have warned Boris?And then what? Saying that he loves, put a bullet in my heart? Or, taking an example from the same Boris, will he simply captivate me in his loft?Grisha was waiting for an answer, but the persistent ringing of the phone answered for me and we both knew perfectly well who was calling.- In touch, - answered Grisha.Naked and shaggy, he lazily held his pipe over his shoulder as he lit a cigarette.- Glad to hear.He looked at me, narrowing one eye. The wolf on his chest was covered in smoke.- I am really tired. - I extended my hand, but Grisha remained in place, listening indifferently to Boris' next question. - She is sleeping. Unde
In the cemetery, under low-growing trees, the colors of summer bloomed, decorating the graves of our loved ones who had left us.I laid flowers on the graves of my mother, brother, and that unfortunate woman who had a bad card to die under my name, and kneeling down, I collected the fallen leaves brought by the wind with my hand.When I came here, it seemed to me that I had something to say to them, but now ... Now I found it stupid and pointless. They were dead and could no longer hear me, as well as answer my requests for forgiveness.- Where now? Alyosha asked, twirling the car keys in his hands.Everything was over and we were in this accursed city, standing on the threshold of the division of power, nothing kept us. Except, maybe...“Forgive me, Alyosha,” I said with pain, looking into his eyes.My faithful and only friend smiled warmly and I realized that he knew everything. Maybe not from the beginning, but he knew. He knew everything and still stayed with me.- Oh really! Alyo
In the distance, the sea roared, barely having time to cool those resting on the beach, overheated by the midday sun.Mostly, of course, they were people who instinctively preferred the day. The time of the wolves was always at night, and it was still far from it.The trolley in the supermarket has accumulated imperceptibly. Many times I promised myself not to gain too much, but on Thursdays a lot of fresh products were imported, including dairy products that were practically in short supply due to the complexity of storage, which were worth their weight in gold for me.- You, as always! - the old cashier smiled good-naturedly, punching through my purchases. - And again without an assistant!I forced a smile in response, suppressing the urge to clutch at my chest, to which milk began to vigorously pour. The only "again" and "as always" were appropriate in that I did not calculate the time, and the mind-blowing process again and as always, and even again found me in the supermarket.We
Somewhere in the darkness of the yard, where the bullet flew, there was a sound of falling, but I was not at all interested in it.I imagined our meeting many times, but never until that moment had I realized how scary it would actually be. Terribly exciting.Just his smell made me dizzy, and my eyes were captivated, and I felt like a stupid girl in a dress with peas, who was breathlessly waiting for his touch.A rough hand with unusual tenderness lay on my cheek, and it instantly flared with heat. The smell of cigarettes, silver, and a fresh gunshot tickled his nose more, leaving a smell of gunpowder on his skin.This bouquet was intoxicating, and the body seemed weightless more and more confidently, while the heat from his palm spread all over my skin, and there was nothing stronger than the desire to snuggle up to him until I heard a baby cry - the most heartbreaking sound for a mother.It was as if I was overwhelmed. I took off and rushed into the house, seized by only one crazy t
Through my sleep, I thought I heard the sound of a shovel. I wanted to get up and check if the gang of scumbags had really thought of nothing else but to bury the corpse right in the yard, but I changed my mind and put my hand deeper under the pillow.After all, what was the difference? Even though they said that lightning never strikes the same place twice, it was still dangerous to stay in the cottage, so what did I care about the corpse buried in his backyard?"I didn't even look at him," I thought through my sleep.Although, I think I already guessed who ... who he was: that wolf from the supermarket.Too bad I only thought of this now. Life taught me, taught me, but I was stupid anyway.The interest of men in female forms was as old as the world, but in my past I should have guessed a hundred times that the young wolf was interested not only in my buffers, because he perfectly saw that I was alone, loaded with packages, with money, in a car, but It didn't even occur to me at the
It seemed to me that I ran away so far that I literally found myself on the other side of the world, but some two days of off-road travel, and now I was again ... at home.Volkodav could not hide his surprise when I said that the end point was to be Angelov's residence. Well, if he thought that returning home meant not only returning to the cursed city, but also to his loft, then he was mistaken.There is no better place than home... Boris told me something similar when he took me from the hospital, and I did not feel anything like that when we passed the gates of his residence damaged by the explosion.The gang of the wolfhound parted in different directions even when we had just left the track closest to the cottage. A column of motorcycles would attract too much attention, and most of the way with all the gas stations and millions of thoughts that we would crash around the next bend, we drove together.The wheels rustled on the gravel, and the motorcycle stopped at the main entranc
I remember when I first entered what I thought was my house, I was amazed at how luxurious it was inside. I even wanted to spin in a glamorous dress and high heels under the glare of an immense crystal candelabra that hung majestically from the ceiling in a spacious hall that evoked comparisons with the atmosphere of the 20s or 30s.However, now, beating off the wooden parquet of the second floor with a metal hairpin, not a single picture in a gilded frame, not a single antique candlestick and not a single majestic door of the rooms, except for the one behind which Boris's office was, and where I sent Martha to put the laptop on charge, if He, of course, was there, did not cause me any delight. However, there were no opposite sensations, inspired by the smell of perfume and the smell of Boris preserved in the house, either.In the end, it was my father's house, that is, mine by right, and even more so thanks to the efforts of the same Boris, who made me his official wife.I went down