Chapter 33 ~ Family History.

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"Oliver!" I hiss, stumbling to my own feet and I dash after him, grabbing his good arm and attempting to pull him down to my level.

"Rosik where are you?!" Oliver screams and I hear the thundering footsteps alighting my fears.

"He will kill you! Stop this and let me handle this, you'll be safe tomorrow!"
I cry out and I force Oliver to look at me, his manic expression darting across my desperate features.

"Don't make me mourn another person. Please." I whisper, just as Rosik runs down the stairs and all I can do is take a few steps away from Oliver and send him one last pleading look as Rosik enters the foyer.

Rosik barrels towards me, surprising the both of us and Rosik forces me to stand behind him as he faces Oliver.

"What's going on?" Rosik shouts, his body tense with distrust and I sense Rosik staring harshly at Oliver, hoping to find even one glimmer of memory behind his eyes so that he can finish the job he started.

Peeking around his obnoxiously large frame I find Oliver glaring harshly and as Olivers eyes dart to my panicked ones I shake my head erratically.

"H-He was just-" I try to rack my brain for a cover but Rosik holds up his hand, silencing me and I have no choice but to bite my lip as Rosik approaches Oliver.

"What's going on brother?"
Rosik slowly exclaims, such false care and concern dripping off his words and I can hear the wide grin behind his them.

Rosik stretches his arms out as if to embrace Oliver but Rosik remains still, gloating in his power as Oliver barely manages to stay standing straight.

We all know how this fight will end.

"I just can't believe that you plan on marrying Katie without our Russian traditions." Oliver finally manages to spit out and Rosiks hands drop to his sides in confusion as he tilts his head. While my head mimics his.

"What? How do you even know about those?..." Rosik questions, genuinely confused as am I, while I take this time to skirt around Rosik and stand off to the side, watching both the men with worry.  

What is Oliver doing?

"Well I may not be able to remember how to read in Russian but one of those books on the ship had all kinds of information on Russia, all in English! Obviously after the announcement last night I couldn't wait to read the chapter on weddings." Olivers words still have a slight drawl as he pieces his cover together and Rosik suddenly turns to me.

"Why were you trying to stop him?" Rosik suddenly questions and I feel myself pale a few too many shades as I face his intense gaze.

The adrenaline rushing through my veins is causing tears to prick my eyes and I rub my arm and glance away.

"You know me... I'd rather just get this over with." I meekly offer and Rosik scrunches his black eyebrows before believing my half-truth.

"Which tradition?" Rosik grumbles and grabbing my arm he tugs me harshly into his body, making a point of holding me tightly against him while Oliver awkwardly faces the both of us.

Olivers gaze grows dark as he now recognises my distress as clear as day. The bruising fading on my neck suddenly screaming the truth to him.

My eyes desperately search Olivers as his mind whirls and he rubs a hand behind his neck.

He winces as he bumps his wound which while is still covered by a makeshift bandage, this time is appearing to be a ripped sleeve of sorts. There seems thankfully to only be a trickle of blood staining the clothing which fills me with relief.

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