Chapter 11
Oleg
I wake to find Story gone.
I fly out of the bed and pound down the hallway in my boxer briefs and t-shirt. The living room is bright with daylight.
Fuck. Did I lose time again? How much?
Vaguely, it comes back to me that I slept through the afternoon and evening. Story stayed with me, playing her guitar softly and moving about the room. I vaguely remember Sasha inviting her to eat—I don’t know if it was lunch or dinner. Maybe both.
That must’ve been yesterday.
“Hey, big guy. How are you feeling?” Nikolai asks from the couch. He’s eating donuts from a box on the coffee table.
I throw my arms in the air in frustration, demanding to know where Story went.
“Relax.” Maxim emerges from the kitchen drinking a glass of grapefruit juice. “Story’s up on the roof with Sasha.”
