Page 27 of Conceal

Lev turns on one of the flashlights. “No. Turn it off. We need to save the batteries for emergencies. It’s light enough.”

It’s not, but as my eyes adjust, the moon reflects through the blizzard, and it’s light enough we won’t bump into anything. The fire also illuminates the living room with warmth.

“Okay,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I’m feeling. “What do we do now?”

“Are you hungry?” Lev asks.

“I’m okay for now. I might have a granola bar before we go to bed.”

When none of the boys answer me, I decide on my own. We should stay off of our phones to conserve their batteries. Only eat when we absolutely have to. Drink only a little. Right now we’re safe, warm enough, and prepared enough.

We’re just bored.

I walk into the kitchen and kneel beneath the sink, reaching my hand back into the cabinet where I thought I saw a bottle of vodka earlier. For a brief moment, I fear a furry animal grabbing my hand, but when my fingers touch glass, I’m relieved.

I saunter back into the living room, brandishing my winnings.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” I say a little too brightly. It’s funny how in charge and controlled I am when it’s life or death, but a little silence with the three people I know the best makes me nervous.

Lev groans. Roman’s reply is silent, and I know why: one, I’m sure he’s worried I’m going to bring up the shower from earlier, and two: I know he won’t ever tell me ‘no’.

Mik simply wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to sit on his lap on the couch. Roman’s on the other side and Lev’s in the single recliner closest to the fire, so it’s hard to see his face in the shadows the fire’s light puts out.

I take a swig of vodka before passing it to Mik, who does the same. “I’ll go first,” I tease.

I tap my chin with my finger as if I’m thinking too hard. I never had girlfriends growing up, and never really made friends in college, so I’m new to this, but this feels good - it feels normal. Like I’m just another college kid at a party, and not a Bratva princess at a safe house.

“Lev, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Hmmm... what don’t I know about him? I know he’s a pain in my ass more times than not. But then the confession in the hallway from earlier comes to mind. I want to know why he cares - how much he cares - if his caring has limits. But I don’t want to start off too deep, or he’ll shut down on me completely.

“Do you have a pain kink?”

Even in the shadows, the wicked grin that pulls at his lips sends a shiver down my spine.

“I didn’t think so, but it might be something I need to explore...”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Roman’s eyebrow rise as he looks between Lev and me.

I clear my throat. “Your turn.”

Mik passes him the bottle, and I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs on a large swallow.

“Ro, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What would you be doing if not this? I guess... what did you want to be when you grew up?” he asks, passing the bottle to him, and damn - that was a good question.

The room is silent for a long time, with only the crackle and pops of the fire as background. It’s quiet long enough that my skin starts to feel itchy and uncomfortable.

Then he turns his head and looks at me. His singular attention carries a new weight to it in the intimacy of the cabin - the warmth of the fire, the raging storm outside. The darkness and quiet feel like a church or a tomb. Something special and sacred. Like we’re in a world where only we exist.

“An architect.”

The answer is so unexpected, but in an instant I can see it; him wearing a sweater or maybe tweed, leaning over a drafting table, designing things with exact precision. He’d boss people around, and he’d be good at it, too. The image makes me smile, before my smile turns sad.