"I care about you both," I respond. "I'll take care of you both to the extent your sister will let me."

He starts to smile. "She's stubborn."

"You have no idea."

The tension seems to ease from him, and he shrugs his shoulders and leans back, the troubled expression gone.

I wish I could relax so easily. Now that I know more about what Claudia's been through, I have the urge to do something about it. I'm a man of action and activity. The past six weeks of our cat-n-mouse game have taught me newfound patience. But hearing what she's been through, combined with the Orion visit and inability to purge the image from my mind of her being hurt, I just want to ... break something. Run a marathon. Spend the next week in the gym or ...

"Ah. You know where we're going next?" I ask him.

"Soldier's home?"

"You know, we'll go there next week, before Christmas, with a truck load of presents instead. We're going to the house to do something that will probably piss off your sister."

Todd brightens. "I won't tell."

I probably will. I don't like the idea of lying to her or deceiving her in any way. It's what's prevented me from pressing Todd for details about what happened. Now that I know, I can't not do something.

"One condition."

He's leaning forward eagerly, waiting.

"What I'm going to teach you is for defense only. You can never, ever use it to hurt anyone for any other reason, even The Monster. You got it?"

"I think so."

"I need another promise."

"Okay. I promise. Defense only."

"I'm going to teach you to shoot."

He gasps and then quickly tries to shutter his emotions, as if not wanting me to suspect he wants to learn badly enough to buy his own.

"I'll be like you?" he squeaks finally. "A real soldier?"

"With some practice." I smile. "You know what makes a damn good soldier?"

Todd shakes his head.

"A good person. You have to know when to use force and when to walk away. You have to think for yourself. You must be compassionate and gentle with the people around you but strong enough to stand up for what's right."

"I have to be a man."

I almost laugh, but he's so serious, I don't. "Yeah. You have to be a man."

"A damned good one."

"There ya go."

"Don't tell Claudia I cussed."

I do laugh this time. His sister will surely kill me when she ever finds out. I can't stand the idea of them being defenseless, and I know her well enough that I suspect she won't call if something happens.

Todd will. Giving him the responsibility of knowing for a fact how to kill a man is a gamble, but it's also something my father taught Mikael and me when we were seven. With the right instruction, and reminders about Lance, Henderson and others who will never recover from their battle wounds, I think Todd is malleable enough to listen and follow the rules.

Chapter Sixteen: Claudia.

Another week passes quietly. The peace of life here catches me off guard. It's easy to sink into, easy to want this to be permanent to the point it hurts me to think otherwise.

I'm exhausted by the time I get home. Todd's winter break started today, the twenty second, and he swore he wouldn't leave the apartment. When I stagger in around seven, my feet are killing me. The shortage of sleep this month from Anton's projects is starting to make me snappy with customers. Thank god they're so full of holiday spirit, they don't seem to mind.

The scent of chili hits me as I walk into my apartment, and I pause after closing the door. "Todd? Did you cook?" I ask.

"Yeah," he responds from the living room.

"Is it for ... us or just you?"

"Us."

"How do you know how to make chili?"

"I found the recipe in the kitchen," he says impatiently.

Weird. In the past two weeks, he's gone from demanding his second dinner at eight to making his own and now, to cooking.

"Thanks, kid," I say and ruffle his hair as I cross to the living room.

The television is blaring and Todd has dumped a box of something that looks like scrapbooking supplies on the table. I didn't know we had anything of the sort.

"What're you doing?" I ask.

"Omigod, Claudia! Stop bothering me. I'm making Petr a Christmas card."

I push off my shoes and roll my eyes. I'd get up and change, but my feet need a breather first. "I can give you three bucks to buy one."

"No. I have to do this myself."

I snort, amused. "What made you want to cook?"

He sighs noisily. "Petr is teaching me to be a better man. He says since I'm off school, I should help out around the house. So I cooked. But if you don't stop asking me questions, I'll never do it again!"

I laugh, delighted and surprised by the honest response. "Sorry. I'll go change." The mention of Petr's name makes my heart dance.

In the three weeks Petr has been working with Todd, I've seen my baby brother bloom. He seems less moody, more confident, and genuinely excited about being involved in life instead of always scared or withdrawn. Petr's progress reports are generally short, that Todd is doing good.

It's an understatement. Todd is doing incredible. I think helping others is too much of who Petr is for him to realize how huge of an impact he's been on Todd.

To be honest, I thought for sure he'd stop visiting the diner and being Todd's big brother by now. I'm pleasant to him but I turn him down every day for dinner. I thought he'd be tired of it, get the hint or worst-case scenario, lose interest in me.

I don't want that to happen. I've felt trapped between wanting to take him up on his offer of dinner, fully knowing how easy it'll be for our relationship to slide into something more, and telling him to stop asking all together to save myself some heartache when he gets tired of me telling him no.

That he'd wait for me without knowing much about me isn't something I expected. It's more proof of how amazing he is. Every smile of his, every wink, are breadcrumbs into the forest leading me a little deeper, no matter how much I try to resist.

"Do you have homework?" Todd asks when I emerge from my bedroom, referring to Anton's projects.

"Not tonight." Petr's dad comes to the diner two to three times a week with new projects. They're pretty fun, a nice challenge that reminds me why I got into graphic design in the first place.

He always comes with Petr, except for one time this past week, when he came alone in the afternoon with another folder full of pictures.

This project I understand. He asked me to create a collage of family pictures from when his three kids were young. The honor isn't lost on me, and his request for secrecy has kept me from sharing the project with Petr or Todd. Every night since then, I've sneaked peeks at the pictures of the twin brothers and their gorgeous little sister, Katya. I can't tell Mikael and Petr apart in most of them, unless they're labeled. The old family photos are in great shape, a sign of their value to their father.

What's clear: the family is close knit and happy. I yearn to know what that feels like, to stop running, to be able to call my mom or visit her without fearing discovery by The Monster.

"Is the chili ready?" I ask, hungry.

"Yeah."

I fetch us both bowls full of the hearty soup and return to my room, closing the door halfway so I can work on my ancient laptop on Anton's secret project for a few hours before heading to bed.

"We're having a Christmas party Thursday. Festivities start Wednesday around noon."

The next morning, I glance up at Petr's words and meet his blue gaze. Every time I look at him, it's a little harder to turn away. My world seems to hold still when we gaze at each other like this.

"Open invitation for you and Todd," Petr finishes.

That's all I need. To be reminded at a Christmas party of everything I can't give Todd.

"I'll think about it," I murmur. "Thank you for asking."

"Is there any way you'll consider coming?" he presses. Normally, he moves on when I refuse. "I won't be in tomorrow morning to ask twice," he adds with a wink.

God, how I want to say yes. The good thing is that it'd be like the Thanksgiving feast: crowded, little time to slip further from my resolve not to fall for Petr. Their mansion is huge enough that I'd be surprised if the entire town wasn't there.

I can tell it means more to him than he's letting on, too. The casual question and smile are hiding depth of emotion I've been corralling as well.

Todd will throw a fit if we don't go. There's another reason I need to go to his party, one I hadn't thought of before. I have to turn over the graphic I've been designing to Anton.

And ... well I owe him for all he's doing for Todd. I don't need to stay long, though I feel obligated to show up.

"We'll come," I decide. "Wednesday or Thursday?"

"Come Wednesday and stay as long as you like. We open up the guest wings and cottages for a few days so friends and family can stay. Or you can crash on my floor. Plenty of room for you to stay the night."

I knock his coffee cup over in a clumsy attempt to refill it.

Dammit, Claudia! My face is hot. I try not to read anything into the fact he's asking me to spend the night. After all, he's inviting half the town to do the same.

Petr's striking eyes are twinkling mischievously. He knows I'm not clumsy, though thankfully, he doesn't call me on it.

"Sorry." I wipe up the mess hastily.

Without looking at him directly again, I move away. My insides are on fire, the memory of our kiss rendering me too flustered to realize I'm heading the wrong direction until I reach the edge of the dining room and have to turn around to return to the kitchen.

Passing him again, I don't give Petr the satisfaction of giving him a firmer response about our plans. He's smiling, so I don't think he really cares, as long as we're showing up at some point.

He leaves shortly after, and I start to process the world around me once more.

I'm itching to call Simon again. Whereas I used to contact him once every two to four weeks, I've been calling him nearly three times a week since Thanksgiving. I tell him it's because I miss my mom around the holidays. The truth is that I'm hurting for good news. Todd is growing attached to Petr to the point I hear him talk about little else. While happy for my brother, I'm also concerned about what another sudden move will do to him, especially with how much he worships Petr.

I, too, am not certain how much longer I can remain here without finally accepting Petr's offer of dinner. Every part of me wants to say yes, and it's fear that holds me back.

I wait to fan myself until I'm in the staff area of the kitchen and then lean back against the employees' lockers. The back door is open to relieve some of the heat that builds up in the kitchen. The frosty December weather cools my skin without relieving the fever in my blood.

Petr blows my mind so easily. I'm not sure what would happen if we spent more than five minutes together, but I think we'd fall so deeply into each other, neither of us would ever recover.

The prospect terrifies me, because I want it so badly. I want to fall, as he says, but can't afford to let go.

I take a break, call Todd to check in and then return to work. Instead of cheering me up, the plethora of ornaments, lights and bright holiday decorations further sink my mood.

Chapter Sixteen: Claudia.

The next day, the diner is packed in the morning. Most of the town is off work, and it takes all three of us waitresses on shift to keep up with the flood of people. The rush eases off around midmorning without dropping off completely as usual.

It's odd, but I miss Petr this morning. I didn't think one day would make a difference. Whenever he's here, however briefly we talk, he becomes my moment of peace, helps me remember to breathe. It doesn't hurt that he's sexy and sweet with a smile that sends my blood racing. Talking to him recharges me, and this morning, without him, I'm feeling totally drained again.

I don't have time to dwell on much of anything. The lunch crowd picks up, followed by another short lull, a dinner rush, and then I'm done for the day.

The snow is starting again. I had no idea Massachusetts was so snowy and cold. I bundle up to trudge home for work, pleased to smell hamburgers when I reach my apartment door. Shivering, I enter and knock the rest of the snow off my shoes onto the floor mat.

"Hey, kid, I'm home!" I call and unwrap myself from scarf, coat, gloves and earmuffs.

"Hey." He's in the living room.

I instinctively check the hamburgers then turn down the heat before pulling off my boots to cross the carpeted area of the living room.