Dear All,

As I promised the other day, here comes CH.27 :-) As I already explained, it came out VERY long and so, I split it two chapters. Sunday I will post CH.28

I am sorry for the long wait, but I many times explained why it takes time writing a chapter for me. I am very grateful for your support and patience and love: you are all absolutely fantastic!

I really hope you will enjoy this chapter and you will see, also CH.28 will be very emotional and charged as this one. So, please let me know what you think of it with your comments, votes and messages that I love to read and reply: THANK YOU!

I would like to dedicate this chapter to all of you and in particular to marsnvic because I know you were waiting long for this confrontation and because I really appreciate your comments: THANK YOU!

A picture of Oleg looking scary and a song that in my opinion seemed to fit this particular chapter.

P.s. Some of you asked me how I pick the quotes. Well, I read pretty much all the books and manga mentioned and watched the anime. Thus, I went back to points that particularly caught my attention or that fit the chapters. For the unknown authors, I searched on the internet according to the chapter and what it inspired me.

And now, enjoy it!

"The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment." By Fyodor Dostoyevsky in 'Crime and Punishment'

ANATOLY POV:

When we arrived at the Police station, my parents were there already and, as soon as my mum saw us, she literally ran toward us and hugged me so tightly that I was afraid she could snap my neck. She was slightly shaking, and I felt my arms automatically and spontaneously going around her much smaller body. I couldn't possibly imagine what she went through.

"I'm fine, nothing really happened to me, because Oleg really saved my ass and..."

I shut my eyes closed a moment and swallowed down the burning rage I still had very fresh and very dangerous roaring in my heart and mind. I wished I could put my hands on that bitch, but it would've only made things worse. Oleg clearly told me that it was very easy to pass on the wrong side, if badly played, and he explained he had no intentions of letting her go. So, I swallowed my thundering wrath and tried to calm mum down. She then softly chuckled and pulled back, caressing my face tenderly. It didn't bother me and I couldn't give a rat's ass that other people were around.

"I'm really fine, mum, but Oleg's Ducati isn't really fine," I added with a rather pissed off tone and she didn't miss it.

But instead of replying me, she gave me a smile and kissed my cheek, for then pulling away and moving her eyes on Oleg, who stood there in his usual silent and rather intimidating way, observing mum with an unreadable expression. I wished I could read into his stubborn and impassive mind, but hell if I had that super power, but well, it wouldn't take much to guess what was going on in there.

I went to talk, but mum surprised both of us by hugging him in the same way she did with me. That impassive bastard widened his eyes in a way I had never seen before and his face clearly showed the surprise brought by that very simple, yet meaningful gesture. Obviously, he soon recomposed himself and for a second or two, he clearly didn't know how to respond it. We shared a quick look and then, he momentary let one arm go around my mother's shoulders.

I looked at them and no freaking way I could hide my smile. Amazing: she had won his heart with that and I knew what it meant for him and what emotions surely moved in him. I smiled more and shook my head, because in that moment I wished I had a camera with me to immortalize his expression.

"Oleg, I don't know how to thank you for what you did for Tolya. You once more protected him and..." She tightened the embrace and took a deep breath, probably wanting to recompose herself. And indeed, she then pulled back and gave him the same smile she always had for us. Once more his eyes slightly reacted to that and then, he finally gave in and smiled back in a sincere and soft way. "Thank you, Oleg. I'm really happy my son has you at his side," she said quietly and I was damn glad they were speaking in Russian.

"It is my honour, Mrs. Denisov and you know I would give my life for Anatoly." I went to say something, but he shot me such an intense and meaningful look that I decided to keep my trap shut. "I love your son," he declared with serious voice and my eyes automatically glued to his. Fuck me...that man had such a power on me.

"I know that very well, Oleg, and I couldn't hope for a better partner for my son. Thank you, Zhenya thinks the same, but I'm sure you're aware of it already." Mum pulled back and let her small hands squeeze Oleg's arms, inspecting his face and body. "Are you hurt?" She asked with honest concern and those simple words had a rather open and visible effect on Oleg, who only shook his head and explained quickly to her what happened. "Spasiba, Oleg," she said once more and he inclined his head in the usual way he did with my parents. Mum then walked to me and once more touched my face with a tender caress.

"Zhenya will be here soon, he's speaking with some police officers and we almost filed a complaint about one," she explained with a tone of voice that made me understand dad had been the one smoothing things down.

"What happened?" I inquired and also Oleg moved beside me.

"Your dad and I stormed here after Oleg called us and demanded to see that...woman," she replied, having a hard time calling Mrs. Palmer as such. I think psychotic bitch was the perfect name for her, but I kept my mouth shut.

Right, Oleg called my parents to let them know we got the crazy woman and that we were fine. Dad pretty much ordered so and anyway, I knew my impassive bastard would have done it anyway. He was a soldier at heart. Now, I looked at mum and imagined in what condition of temper she stormed in here. My eyes wandered around and I was surprised everything seemed intact. She could be very scary, but the shit with that woman hadn't gone down yet.

"Someone has been unpleasant with you, Mrs. Denisov?" I eyed Oleg and silently chuckled. If some idiot had dared to behave like a jerk with mum, well...he could already pray the God for the safety of his ass.

"One young policeman thought of being amusing by making a joke about crazy Russians, especially crazy Russian women and given the situation, I told him off and your father demanded to speak with his superior." She told us what that freaking jerk said and my blood immediately simmered in my veins.

"Who's this fucktard?" I snarled, wishing to go there and punch his face. How the hell he dared to make fun of my mum? Oh God I wished to smack the face of that fucking idiot. "Who the hell dared to say that to you?"

"Don't worry, Tolya. Zhenya took care of it and it was better, because I could have slapped him in that moment and make things worse. Thank God your father is always so calm and cold-blooded when it's needed."

And as she spoke those words, my dad appeared and he stopped in front of me, placing a strong and firm hand on my shoulder. He wasn't exactly the type of father that would hug his sons just as mum did, but that was awesome for me, given how I was. He would discreetly smile and speak measured words and they were enough.

"Tolya, are you OK?" He asked staring directly into my eyes and I nodded, feeling his hand planted on my shoulder, clearly being worried and relieved at the same time. It was there, in his hard-looking eyes, in the not completely concealed tension on his face and on the way he was assessing me, his hand dug in my shoulder as if wanting to make sure I was really fine.

"I'm good, dad, but damn...that crazy woman is a real fucked-up case, she almost ran over us a second time and you should see in what conditions Oleg's Ducati is! Argh, I'm so fucking pissed you have no idea," I groaned out and he let go my swearing, given he probably didn't even register it. He kept staring at me intently and then shook his head. "What happened before?" I tried to ask, but he gestured me to let it go and that he would probably explain it later. Alright, he already took care of that asshole.

"Oleg," he then said with such solemn tone of voice that we both looked at dad waiting for him to talk. "Thank you," he said only and then, he moved his other hand on Oleg's shoulder and the way his eyes stopped on his face said it all.

I swallowed down and my hot bastard once more inclined his head as sign of respect, but also of deep gratitude. I knew him very well and, even if I couldn't read into his stubborn mind, I could still guess what was happening in it. Finally, he was realising his real place in our family. "Oleg, thank you for what you did and for always giving all you have for our family." Dad paused a moment and then smiled quickly in a measured way. "For your family, because, Oleg Azarov," he said, letting out the patronymic as of course Oleg had dropped it and cancelled it from his full name, "Oleg Azarov, I will say it now clearly: we are family. Do not forget it."

I swallowed down at the intensity of his words and the impassive bastard stared at my dad in complete silence for a very short moment, for then deeply inclining his head and conceding a smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Denisov. It is my honour and it is a great honour."

"Will you tell us everything before we can confront that woman? I believe they are waiting for the lawyer, but she will pay for this without any doubt." No freaking doubt about that, because dad took two lawyers with him and one of them was a good friend of his, also Russian and also clearly esteeming my father.

That woman had caused too much shit and she had to fucking open her eyes. She had to pay for insulting Viola, that jerk of Seryozha and for having drugged me once so much that, if it weren't for Oleg, I'd been in the hospital.

She had to pay for wanting to run over the man I loved. I cracked my knuckles and then my neck. God, I still couldn't get that out of my mind and I still couldn't get over what happened. Freaking hell, he had been awesome as always. I glanced at him and tried to imagine him as soldier: fuck me, he must have been a tough one and the best in his unit. He caught my staring and he seemed to ask me what I was thinking about. I shook my head.

It wasn't the place to say what I thought about him, how much I admired him, because even if seeing him risking his life freaking scared the shit out of me and got me madly angry, I still couldn't deny the admiration and respect I held for this incredible man. And the love. Yeah, it definitely wasn't the place and time to voice my emotions and thoughts. Too many people were around.

"She definitely will and she will also hear me out," mum said, bringing me back from my considerations, and I noticed how her mood quickly changed, becoming suddenly rather scary and so damn determined to render that bitch's life a nightmare that I honestly didn't want to be in her shoes.

Mrs. Palmer pretty much dug her grave and I had no idea how it was going to be for that pathetic son of her, who only got caught into this mess. I almost felt bad for him, because I had no idea how he must have felt: his mother was a crazy mental case, his father wasn't exactly someone he loved or wanted to live with and the sister he was attached to committed suicide. That kid had it fucked up a lot and it wasn't even his fault. But I only almost felt bad, because I had no doubts he was the one behind the messages left on our lockers. I would have passed the spraying on mine and maybe the ones on Seryozha, for he also had been a piece of shit like me in the past. But...I would never let pass the damn messages sprayed on Viola's locker.

Oleg and my parents took a moment to discuss what happened and I simply stayed there and listened silently, brooding in more anger, anger that I had no idea how didn't yet explode. Probably because I had learned my lesson in staying quiet when needed, yeah. Oleg told them everything with eerie precision, not missing any small details and, while dad kept very silent and held a hard expression promising hell, mum grew more and more upset. She had to grab my dad's hand once and then, I decided to casually let my right arm go around her shoulders and the smile given to me spoke many words.

A police officer then came to take our statements and Oleg handed him the small camera he had on him the whole time, saying he carried it for monitoring my style of racing. Right...we couldn't simply admit he investigated on his own. I wasn't so quick of mind and ready to cover every little detail as he was and I felt a real brat, if compared to him; but damn it, I really felt burning in pride for him. While I gave my version of the facts, I basically swore every two words and the officer glanced at Oleg almost not believing my words, clearly ogling at him in wonder and yeah, admiration.

Dima wasn't present because dad told him to wait at home and probably, it was better like that. My twin called me before, after hearing what happened and he swore as much as I did. Yeah, given the way he groaned and cursed over the phone, I understood why he was told to stay at home and clearly, he didn't like that one bit. But anyway, he would have not been admitted in the room, all considered. However, the flip side of the coin was that he would then freak me out with questions once this was over. Oh joy. I massaged my forehead and sighed out. He was going to fry my brain, I just had to accept it and survive it. He was my twin brother. Right, questions and answers...

"Can we go talk to Mrs. Palmer?" I then asked, feeling suddenly restless and wanting to confront her, wanting to hear her bullshit out and finally make her understand she got the wrong person. My palms itched wanting to slap her face, but yeah, it couldn't be done here. I just wanted this shit over.

"We have to wait for the permission to confront her, as she is waiting for her lawyer and the officers are filing down all the details and soon they will need to hear our version once more and collect all the evidences from our side," one of the lawyers replied and I grunted my annoyance out.

I rolled my eyes, going to sit on the nearest chair. I wasn't very good at following procedures and bullshit like that; my patience wasn't strong enough. Oleg followed me and sat right beside and, once more, my eyes fell on the fabric of leather riding pants and motorbike jacket slashed and bitten by the asphalt. If he hadn't worn riding gears, I had no idea what might have happened to him, the conditions of his legs or body would be...argh!! That crazy bitch!! I let out an angry breath and looked at Oleg once more. Of course, he had planned everything and thank God, he wore the gear we used for racing. He must have had scratches and cuts on his body anyway. Damn it! The way he slid on the street played in my mind and that triggered my temper and my blood began to hiss in my head. Oh God, I wanted to punch that crazy woman so much! She had wanted to run over us and she wanted to kill us and...I had to take a deep breath, because I was visibly shaking in growing anger. I had to let it out somehow, before it exploded in the worst way.

Oleg sensed my roaring state of mind and heart and so, placed a firm hand on my knee, calmly speaking to me in our mother language.

"I know how you feel, Anatoly. I also did not like to let her go so easily. I wished I could handle this in my way, but this is the best course to take. However, you know how I felt before." I nodded and squeezed his hand back. Yeah, I understood how he felt and why he didn't do what he had wished for. He would've eliminated that woman for having tried to kill me, but he stopped and it was all for me. I swallowed down. I comprehended his actions and reason more than he could imagine, for I would've done the exact same.

"I'm sorry for your Ducati," I said to him and he smiled, shaking his head.

"It does not matter. I will repair if I can and if it is not possible, I will acquire a new one." I went to reply, but dad joined us, while mum was discussing something with the lawyers, probably asking them how to make Mrs. Palmer's life a living hell. She was edgy and clearly growing impatience, just as I was. She wanted to confront that woman and same applied to me.

"How do you feel Oleg?" My father asked, observing him more and noticing the conditions of his two pieces motorbike suit. "Are you sure you do not need to see a doctor?"

"I am perfectly fine, sir. Thank you for your concern." I dryly chuckled, because I knew he would never drop the professional and formal tone whenever speaking to my father, not even in hundred years.

They finally called us inside the room and Mrs. Palmer was there with her son and a lawyer, along with two policemen and an officer that seemed ready to record whatever conversation was going to take place. Oh well, they were sure going to freaking record a lot of swearing from me, because the moment my eyes stopped on that woman, my blood once more began to roar and I knew I was trying to control my anger, as my body tensed and almost vibrated for the intensity of my rage. Oleg placed a secure and firm hand on my right shoulder and that very simple gesture helped me no little. He was there with me and that crazy bitch was going to face him, too.

Her lawyer stood up and crossed half of the room, while one policeman was about to speak, but everyone froze on the spot as my mum spoke. Fuck. She was mad beyond normal words and her anger made her look damn scary. I swallowed down as she spoke and Mrs. Palmer shrank in the chair, eyeing the policemen.

"You tried to kill my son and Anatoly is alive only because of him, whom you also tried to harm," she roared, pointing at Oleg and standing in a fierce and belligerent stance, so much I was afraid she would jump on Mrs Palmer and rip her eyes out. "Consider yourself very lucky I did not find you before they did. Consider yourself a very lucky woman, for you are a disgrace as parent and mother. And mind my words: you will respond for your actions and so will everyone else involved."

If words would have the physical power of shredding someone in pieces, well, my mum's words would have slashed that woman over there in a bloody pulp.

"Mrs. Denisov, I believe this is not the appropriate tone to address my client and your words..." the lawyer shut up as soon as mum and dad stared at him.

"I know what I can say and what I cannot say. This woman wanted to kill my son and then also tried to kill Oleg. She tried to kill two members of my family, do you understand this?" Oleg's hand slightly strengthened the grip on my shoulder as mum spoke those words and I just loved her even more: she was a such a badass and then she continued, looking at Mrs. Palmer as if wishing to turn her into dust. "She has no saying in this matter and our lawyers will make sure everything is dealt with as it should be."

My mother moved her stormy and cold eyes from that pathetic excuse of man playing lawyer game to Mrs. Palmer, who visibly trembled and tried to hide herself by sitting deeper in the chair.

"You should have never touched my family." The tone of her voice froze the blood in my veins and I could see how dad stood right beside her, assessing that woman with hard eyes that promised one thing only: punishment. In a way or another.

"He killed my daughter," Mrs. Palmer cried out and my mum tensed in a way that remined me of a spring ready to be released and wreck everything around her, probably wishing to dig into that woman's face with her red nails, but dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she checked the rising temper.

"This is complete bullshit," I however snarled out and I took a step toward, feeling Oleg right beside me and everyone's eyes on me. I had enough of this gigantic bullshit and it was time to confront this psycho here. "I never had anything to do with your daughter. I never freaking killed anybody, are you out of your mind? And she committed suicide, right? I heard that in school." This was a lie, but who cared? I wasn't going to tell her how we got that information.

"She..." Mrs. Palmer violently shook on the chair and then her face became horribly twisted by insane hatred. "You slept with her and got her in trouble for then leaving her," her voice raised in once more instable and crazed resentment.

My palms itched, wanting to smack sense into that bitch's head, but I couldn't do it. Unless I wanted to get us in some shit. I had to keep my now burning and hissing temper on a tight leash and, before I replied anything more to her, Oleg took a step forward and I witnessed, with great and damn incredible pleasure, how she paled down as she looked at his face. The words died in her mouth and it appeared as if his presence crashed her. I bet she still remembered the gun pointed at her and I bet, she was damn terrified of him. And I just enjoyed seeing the expression of pure dread on her miserable face.

"Anatoly did not do such thing. You mistook him for another man, who is the real responsible and vermin, and in doing so, you endangered Anatoly's life and attacked other students in school, because I suspect your son and yourself were the responsible for all the accidents occurred in school, correct?" He spoke formally, yet the tone of his voice was threatening. "These actions will have legal consequences." He appeared calm and composed, as if made of stone and ice, his face set in a granitic, dark and impassive expression, his eyes menacing and deadly severe. Yet, I knew he was self-imposing calm. I could see it by the way he once only tightened his jaw. It was an almost impossible to detect little shift on his hard face, but I didn't miss it. "You touched the wrong person," he then said with a voice that I am sure almost made that pathetic son of her piss himself, judging by the way he crawled back in the chair, as if wanting to disappear.

Mrs. Palmer frantically ran her eyes from each of us to the others and I could see she was breathing as if about to go even more crazy, as if about to have a panic attach, shaking her head and muttering confused words we couldn't understand. She was losing it badly.

"No, it's not possible, it must be you, because she said it was a Russian," the way she spat out that last word had all of us tense up so much that I was afraid mum would jump on her. Instead she stood there as a glacial and lethal queen and stared down at Mrs. Palmer with belligerent eyes.

"I suggest you mind your tone of voice," my father spoke to her for the first time. "My son Anatoly Evgenych Denisov never committed anything so deplorable and he had nothing to do with your daughter. We are sorry for her death, but you involved the wrong persons. My wife is right: you should have not touched our family." He set the line down very clearly and God forbid crossing it.

"Prove it, if you can," Mrs. Palmer tried to challenge us and Oleg replied to her.

"We have all the evidences needed. Anatoly is not the responsible." He stood in front of me, as if wanting to pass the clear message of not messing with us and she frantically shook her head, looking at my dad and it was obvious she was about to have some hysterical outburst, as the shrilling way she snapped at us suggested.

"Your son is a delinquent and he was part of a gang, a rotten apple and garbage for..."

"Silence at once," my father thundered and even the policemen swallowed down at his strict and commanding tone of voice. "Another inappropriate word against my son and I will see to also sue you and your entire family for moral damages and defamation." I knew that tone of voice all too well. Dad wasn't freaking joking or bluffing. He wasn't the kind of person to explode like I was, but he was the kind of man that would make your life a living hell in every possible way if you wrongly crossed his lines. I noticed how my mother sent him a clearly adoring quick glance and how she pressed closer to him. "Am I understood?"

"Mr. Denisov, you cannot threaten my client," the lawyer of that insane woman said and dad's lawyers answered for him.

"We are not threatening Mrs. Palmer. We are merely stating the options and the possible legal actions that our client can take, if she chooses to address the here present Anatoly Denisov with such words."

"Am I understood?" My father repeated and she barely nodded, but I could see the anger and madness sizzling in her eyes and on her face, deforming her features and the expression of her mouth. She looked grotesque almost, like a caricature of herself. She nodded and I eyed her son, looking miserable and about to cry. I felt bad for him, because he had such a fucked-up family that it wasn't funny anymore.

"He still is responsible and my Caroline is dead," Mrs. Palmer shouted as she sprang up on her feet and I could see Oleg tensing up, probably having enough of this and resenting the fact he couldn't properly deal with her. Oh, I understood him damn well. I clenched my hands in fists, for I wished to slap her so hard that I would be the one in troubles.

"Shut up!" I exploded, blood howling in my head. "What about Viola then? Why did you have to involve her, ha?" I barked out, no more able to contain my rage. "I have no doubts it was you spraying such bullshit on her locker and desks and you were the one that drugged me for Halloween's party, right? She could have drunk it, haven't you thought of that? She could have hurt herself by falling from that damn ladder. What's wrong with you? And why targeting Sergey? Why? You could have got it at me only, even if you are full of bullshit. I never touched your daughter, because I'm gay for crying it aloud and she had it with another one, not me. You get it? Not me!" I was shivering for how violently the anger pumped in my veins and thundered in my heart. It felt as if I was about to detonate. "Nothing to say, ha?" I snarled out another time.

"Yes, I made sure that Cameron gave you the spiked drink," the spineless son finally spoke and admitted with feeble and wavering voice, clearly about to pass out. "It wasn't hard to convince him and make him do it." And then I growled out and desired to punch something. I knew that the little, pathetic shrimp was somehow involved. God, I so much wanted to smack his annoying head against a wall and see if had a brain! I doubted it.

"Oliver!" His mother shouted at him, but he shook his head, tears in his eyes. He really got fucked-up parents. Their lawyer paled down and went to say something, but the guy broke down and we all just looked at him. Alright, I felt bad for him, but I still wanted to kick his ass for what he had done to Viola. And for having touched my beautiful Ninja babe.

"What about that..." I bit my tongue, because it wasn't the place to let out my outburst and stream of compliments I had in my mind for that little, depressed shit. "What about him?" I was clenching my fists so much that it almost hurt, but at least it prevented me from using them.

"He had no intention of hurting you and he came to me after, asking what was in there...I'm sorry for Viola, because she's actually so nice...and...Cameron didn't know it was spiked, I just told him it was specifically for you." My ass he didn't know it was drugged. Obviously, the depressed shrimp must have suspected but not cared. No wonder, he hated my guts and wished God struck me dead every time he saw me. Oh, I was going to enjoy a nice talk with him and I could bet my ass Seryozha wouldn't mind joining me.

"Well no shit, Sherlock. He hates my guts, you got your perfect little rat. But you also hate me for some reason, ha?" He barely nodded and I didn't even bother to ask. "Have I beaten your ass somehow?" He shook his head and I swear, my patience was about to go mental, too. "So why? What have I done to you?"

"You scared me whenever going around with Sergey Lebedev and...and...I was sent to the hospital one day after PE and..."

"It wasn't us," I groaned out. "You perfectly know it wasn't us." I took a deep breath and then went on. "So, you asked Cameron about me, ha?" He nodded, shaking and sobbing. Oh God, I just wanted to slap that shrimp even more. "Now I understand how easy it was for you two try drugging me a second time," I hissed out, gritting my teeth.

God, I so wished to smack their heads against the wall. Oleg never moved from my side and it was like his presence was meant to make them feel even more in deep shit.

"I swear, what mostly pisses me off is that you got this shit done and involved a sweet girl like Viola only because you got the wrong person and argh!! What makes me really angry is that you almost ran over him with your damn car. You wanted to kill him! And for what?" I roared at Mrs Palmer, shaking and clenching my fists more, afraid of letting my hands free. "I will never forgive you for this, do you hear me? And then you had to throw my fucked-up past back at me, but hear me out clearly: I have paid for that and I closed my debts. It's gone and over. How the hell did you even think I could be the responsible one?"

"She once mentioned you," the Oliver guy muttered. What the hell?

"What do you mean?" Oleg asked and the guy almost passed out at just looking at him. His presence was too much to take for this little fry.

"She liked you, I think," he somehow replied, visibly shaking and eyeing Oleg as if he were staring at some huge beast ready to tear his head in one go. Well, that might have been almost true.

"It doesn't matter," his crazed mother suddenly said, getting on her feet and staring at me with so much hate that it appeared as if she wished to strike me dead. "She is dead and you are still here, alive and going on with your life. Why couldn't she also have your same chance? Why you had to survive and be granted by God with a second chance? You were a piece of garbage and you were part of a gang and did all sort of things, so why you? Why couldn't you be the one dying instead of her?" I was seeing red by then and my father went to speak, but Oleg let us all silent as he stood right in front of her.

"What did you just dare to say?" He asked with such dark and icy voice, pronouncing each word with lethal, apparent calm, but I knew better. "Anatoly should have been dead and pay for your daughter's mistakes? For your own mistakes as mother? If you will utter another word of this sort, I will forget where we are and what you are." Mrs. Palmer sagged on the chair and eyed her lawyer and then the policemen, who had stopped the recording when Oleg opened his mouth. Oh, I see.

Fucking hell, he could have shot her and it would have been less painful and more merciful for her.

"Are you threatening me?" She had the guts or insanity to say, even if she clearly was about to go even more mental. Then it was my mother that stepped right in front of her, placing a hand on Oleg's arm. A grateful but also protective gesture, a silent way to thank him, yet to tell him to please not get in trouble for that bitch. Dad kept silent and only observed them. I could already imagine what was going on in his mind and then, his eyes quickly darted at me and gave me a smile that spoke enough.

I couldn't be dead. No, not with my family, friends and Oleg around me. No freaking way.

"You are the only responsible for your daughter's death. You and nobody else. You killed her."

"What?"

"What have you done to help her? What have you done as mother? I heard the other parents speaking about your case, saying you chased her out because of her choices and difficult behaviour. Is that so?" She was such a brilliant and smart badass. " If that is correct, I believe that if your daughter would have had a family or a mother beside her in such difficult moment, she would have never taken her life. You abandoned her, right?"

Mrs. Palmer's son replied enough when he began to quietly sob and nod. Mum was playing with the information Oleg provided us in a very smart and incredible way and she used them to make that woman feel like a gigantic piece of shit, to make her look entirely guilty. Fuck me, mum could be damn scary sometimes. She eyed the small fry crying and shook her head.

"I thought so. You abandoned her and you denied her the second chance she needed. You are the only responsible for your daughter's death. My son never had anything to do with her and if anything would have happened, he would never leave her alone in such horrible way. My son is not a vile person. If you will dare another time to say that he should be the one dead, I will not be held responsible for my actions," mum said with razor-like voice, her tone glacial and quite petrifying. "You want to blame someone? Then blame and punish yourself only. My husband and I with our lawyers will see you in front of a jury." She stepped closer, almost touching her, staring down at her as if she wished to erase her existence from this planet. "You should have not touched my family. You should have not touched my son."

She glanced at our lawyers and then at the policemen, who nodded as they sure heard enough, and so, turned to me and quickly hugged me. I returned the gesture spontaneously and whispered in her ear in Russian, "Thank you." She only hugged me tighter and then we were told to leave the room. Before leaving, I caught Oleg very quietly telling something to Mrs. Palmer that turned her into a sick-looking green and made her tremble for a moment. I wondered what he said, but when he moved his eyes on me, he simply stared back with unreadable face. Only when we left the police station, Oleg allowed himself to touch me and quickly kiss my temple.

"Spasiba," I murmured very quietly and he shook his head.

"Ya tee-bya lyublyu," he only said and I just wanted to have a moment alone with me, but it wasn't going to happen any time soon.

OLEG POV:

It had been a very long day and we all came back very late from the police station. It took time and a very private trial would soon take place; Mr. Denisov and his lawyers had been very clear in the matter of keeping everything quiet and I also made sure to speak with the officers in there. Mr. Denisov knew what strings to pull and he used his influence and knowledge to leave Anatoly away from the public eye. He had always been a man keen to privacy, especially when it concerned his family, and he would defend it with every mean he possessed. I really admired Mr Denisov and because of the respect I held for him, his words meant more than he would ever comprehend.

Mrs. Denisov was furious and belligerent when we confronted that woman and, as Mrs. Palmer looked at her, she grew paler and paler. I believed that had Mrs Denisov the chance to put her hands on that crazed woman, she would have done it. Her anger was palpable in the room of the interrogation and she was not going to accept anything else that the highest punishment. I had to admit that she also could be very intimidating, even if in a complete different way than her husband. The following day she was going to confront the principal of the school Anatoly attended and we would also face that other troublesome student that assisted in this without properly realizing the consequences of his rather despicable resentment against Anatoly.

The young man called Cameron Raynard had to give some good explanation and he would also be involved in the trial as witness, but I believed Mrs. Denisov would take care of keeping their mouths shut and I would gladly assist her, if needed. I had no idea how Anatoly was going to behave, but it would definitely make him feel better to unleash some of his repressed anger. The irresponsible and deplorable actions perpetrated by that student caused enough troubles, also to the Taylor siblings. However, I believe that Cameron Raynard would not only hear it from Anatoly. Sergey Lebedev was very upset at hearing what part was played by the young student and, given his evident attachment for Viola Taylor, he would want to exchange a few private words with him.

I massaged my eyes and I casted a glance at the empty side of my bed. It indeed had been a very long and emotionally straining day.

Everyone was asleep and after we came back to the Denisov residence, Anatoly's friends arrived to check if he was fine, for Dmitri had called them. I had not been very inclined in sharing this with so many people, but they all seemed capable and trustworthy, understanding the importance to keep it very private. In particular, I could see that the young men called Aleksandr and River, together with the Taylor siblings, immediately grasped everything and the eyes of River Kelley quickly looked at me, for then smiling and inclining his head. Indeed, that young man was very intuitive. I also had to admit my surprise in seeing Sergey Lebedev, but as I noticed his interaction with the girl called Viola, my surprise immediately vanished.

My worry slightly eased down as I witnessed Anatoly's face at seeing them there and, I had to admit they took me by surprise as they inquired about how I felt and if anything hurt. Aleksandr Lebedev approached me discreetly for a few questions and I understood why Anatoly regarded him with such esteem and trust. I was sincerely glad he had these young men as friends and I was glad the twins went over the difficult past, acting and behaving like real, attached brothers.

My eyes caught the bandage on my left side and left thigh, where I had the deepest scratches and more visible bruises. Wearing a motorbike suit surely did help and shielded my body; I threw it away, because it was damaged by the impact of the sliding, but it was not my concern. I had expected the worst and the worst indeed could have happened. I remembered the adrenaline I felt sizzingly in my body when I chased after the car and slid under it. I felt no real or unusual physical pain, but my muscles were tired and slightly aching. The rush of adrenaline experienced while saving and keeping Anatoly out of any sort of harm was what anesthetized any pain and even when it wore off, I solely felt tired. Anatoly was much concerned about my Ducati, but it was not a problem in my mind. Either it would get repaired or I would purchase a new motorbike. I only cared it served the purpose to stop that woman from running over him.

I sighed out loud and crossed my hands behind the head, closing my eyes a moment and willing more calm into my system. Anatoly was safe and Mrs. Palmer was going to pay for what she dared to do. Anatoly was safe and nothing happened to him. Yes, Oleg Azarov: Anatoly was safe and you did protect the person you love the most. I had to remind that to myself in order to gain control over my still lingering and fresh anger, and over my fears of something happening to him. I kept my promise and I always will.

I sighed out more and my eyes opened to stare at the ceiling. After a very long day and evening that stretched into the night, finally everyone was asleep and resting; in particular, Anatoly. He had not wanted to show it to the others and to me, but he was exhausted and the confrontation with that mad woman drained him. Yet, it also gave him a sort of peace, because he at last could sort the matter out and solve it, declaring and explaining his innocence. It helped him in letting out many things. The confrontation helped him to close another chapter of his tumultuous and difficult past.

Anatoly. I swallowed down remembering the way his eyes incessantly stared at me with barely concealed worry the entire evening. Worry and guilt. I comprehended his worries, but he should already know my body went already through much more than this. He should already know nothing would ever stop me from protecting him whenever needed. Being around so many people made it impossible for us to share small touches or being alone, yet we both craved to be alone, just us two and nobody else. We often shared looks and very quick touches, like a hand momentarily on his back or on my shoulder. We both needed more than that, but situation called for patience.

As the time to go to sleep approached, we both exchanged a charged and significative look, both desiring to spend the night together. But we were not alone and we were under the Denisov's roof. I stayed here and decided to spend the night in the room I had in the basement. We could not find it in us to sleep together in his room. In this, we both were very private; sleeping together with his parents aware of that I very well knew would render Anatoly uncomfortable.

Something else that made him dissimilar from his twin, who never had problems in sharing the bedroom with his partner. The Denisov never questioned it or disagreed, but Anatoly and I were different. We necessitated our space and proper time to be alone. Yes, we shared my room in the past, but it was under very different circumstances and now, we had declared our feelings and relationship to the Denisov. Things changed and we both shared the same idea on that.

Everyone was asleep, yet I could not sleep and my eyes wandered the dark room, as my body tried to find a comfortable way to rest in bed. It was going to be impossible tonight. I missed Anatoly beside me here and in general; we have been around people the entire day and it was normal, but after what happened with that woman, I only wished to be alone with him and have that brat for myself only. It was a selfish wish and need, but it was exactly how I felt and not being together left me restless.

He yet had to tell me what he remembered from his past, for we had no time to properly talk. If what happened today awoke memories, without doubts it was something to worry about. Leah was not a person for sure and Marlon the other day passed me information about a certain drug dealer residing on the other coast of the country that unsettled me. I did not doubt that a bigger matter than mere retorting for having left the gang was looming on Anatoly's head. He must have witnessed something without even realising that.

Anatoly and I had to talk and I had to get to the bottom of this more dangerous problem, because once this was over, he would finally be entirely free and at peace. I came to the conclusion that the problem at hands had to solved on a very private level, because I would never admit dragging him into some strenuous and emotional demanding trial. No. It had to be dealt on a very personal and private level. I had connections and knew people that would definitely not deny me a favour and who would profit from this. Mr. Denisov already gave me his complete trust and permission to proceed as I judged best, for he also gave me his complete support. He was a very well-connected man and a very respected and rather feared businessman; nobody would deny us a favour, if required.

I sat on the bed and eyed the bench press, debating if some exercise would help in becoming calmer, at least enough to trying to sleep. I did not like to not be with Anatoly right now, for I wished to feel him safe and unhurt in my arms, but...my eyes moved to the door and my mind tried to consider every possible factor and rule of good, respectful conduct.

Would it be very appropriate to go to his room and simply lie beside him? Would it not be very improper, considered what today occurred to us?

I shook my head and got on my feet, going to wash my face and mouth, and when I returned from the bathroom, the quiet sound of steps approaching my room led me to open the door.

I smiled as I opened it and found Anatoly standing there about to grab the handle. His eyes darted on my face slightly surprised and then he let out an amused chuckle, stepping in my room and closing the door behind. He rested his back on it and laughed more.

"You were about to come to my room?" he asked, passing a hand in his dishevelled hair, one of his usual bratty smirk on his lips. He wore nothing but a lose pair of shorts and a tank top that I realised belonging to me. When did he take it? Anatoly noticed my expression and he answered my unspoken question. "I took it the other day. I like it because it smells of you."

My lips smiled automatically in response to that and I stepped closer to him, feeling already calmer at seeing him here. I never imagined him wearing my clothes, but there was a touching intimacy in that and it gripped at my heart. I relished and indulged in the view of him and liked seeing my clothes on him, what it represented.

"And I like seeing it on you," I admitted with apparent calm and levelled voice, but my blood was already boiling in my veins for what he said. Had he guessed my thoughts? By the way his eyes assessed me, I believed he did. Impulsive and dangerous brat.

"So, were you going to see me?" I quietly chuckled as he repeated the question, being always rather impatience and temperamental, still needing reassurance and confirmations. I loved him like this and I would give him whatever made him feel reassured and at ease. I braced my hands on the door at each side of his head, leaning into Anatoly, and pressing him against it, letting my lips graze his softly at first. There was an inexplicable emotion that took hold of my entire mind and body whenever we gently touched lips with one another.

"Yes, I did plan to come to your room and simply lie down beside you, or sit on a chair. I wanted to be with you and I could not sleep, not tonight of all nights for sure."

"I also couldn't sleep and, even if I mind admitting it, I'm still a bit freaked from what happened. I can't get out of my mind the image of you almost sliding under the wheels." He swallowed down loudly, gritting his teeth in an angered expression. "I really thought she would drive over you and I still fucking mind I couldn't slap that bitch," he groaned out under his breath and then shook his head as if wanting to chase that thought away, and I did not miss noticing how his hands had clenched in tight fists. Indeed, we both still felt the same anger and restlessness.

Then suddenly his arms went around my back and pulled us closer, snaking them stronger around me, his fingers digging into my skin as I wore nothing but a pair of shorts. His lips pressed harder on me and my arms found their place around his back, closing us in a tight and strong embrace. We both needed it. He muttered a "ya tee-bya lyu-blyu" on my mouth when he broke the contact from it and then, after my reply, his lips again touched mine, softly, gently...a simple gesture to communicate each other our love. Our arms tightened around one another and we stayed like that for a few minutes, only relishing each other's presence, breathing each other's smell. His nose lingered on my neck, inhaling from it, and I heard him letting out a long breath that caressed my skin and pleasantly tickled it.

I loved when he behaved so spontaneously with me, when he let himself behave freely.

"There is something about the smell of your skin that calms me down when I need it, but also," he said the last two words with a different tone of voice, pulling back and setting his enticing eyes on me, by then smirking like the tempting punk he was, "that turns me on. I just love it, Oleg, and I only want to be with you. I don't care if my parents are here and anyway..."

"Anatoly, my room is in the basement," I stated calmly and his eyes responded to my words with a quick flicker. "I also did not care to some extent, but perhaps here is better."

I gave him no time to reply, as my mouth closed on his, letting the kiss express my state of mind and emotions. In no time my tongue pushed deep in his warm mouth and his throaty growl echoed in me, sending a spark of primal pleasure and also of need throughout my entire body. My hands moved from his back to its lower curve, grabbing the wife beater's hem, remining myself the piece of cloth was mine but he wore it, something that immediately ignited my desire and something else I could not explain.

Anatoly pressed closer to me and the way he deepened the kiss, kissing me with an intensity that bordered with almost desperation and in that moment, I understood he felt exactly like me. I broke the kiss and he growled annoyed, going to open his mouth for some bratty remark, but he shut it as soon as his eyes caught mine. I was not sure what he exactly saw in there, but it left him quiet.

"Anatoly, I cannot bear the idea of anything happening to you." I closed my eyes a moment and pulled back to create some space, for I had to voice out what went through my mind and heart during the day. "I would have killed that woman on the spot, if she managed doing something to you or harm you. I would have killed her and I am not proud of this, for you know how I am, but I would have done it without hesitation or second thoughts. I had wished to confront her in the room of the police station, but it was not my place to do so."

Indeed, Mr. and Mrs. Denisov had the right to confront that woman and deal with her directly. They were Anatoly's parents. Yet, I was seething in repressed and cold anger the entire time we stood in that room, wishing to have a few minutes alone with her. I slipped out of my apparent composure when we left, as I addressed her with a very quiet but clear message: she could consider herself lucky I did not have the chance to handle her as I wished. The look she casted back at me produced a small satisfaction, because I knew my words and tone of voice struck her fears deeply.

"What are you talking about, Oleg?" Anatoly asked me, creasing his forehead and knotting his brows. "What the hell are you talking about? God, can I freaking kick your damn, stubborn ass? You're not proud of it," he repeated while snorting out and shaking his head, quickly gripping my hair with his fingers and directly staring into my eyes. "Don't say such bullshit. I know the damn honourable bastard you are and I understand you. Fuck, I really do understand you and I love you for this, more than you'll ever get, but Oleg, if Mrs. Palmer had managed to freaking hurt you, I would have killed her myself. She is a lucky crazy shit. Believe me."

He stared more into my eyes and then rested his forehead on mine, breathing slower than he was a moment ago, caressing my hair with a gentle and caring touch he never had before. I loved that touch and my eyes closed for a bit, simply enjoying it, indulging into it a moment longer, for having Anatoly in this caring attitude warmed me up more than I ever expected. And more surprisingly, I accepted it and leaned more on him, allowing him to caress my short hair more. It was soothing; it was comforting. His lips softly kissed my forehead and I smiled, kissing his neck, feeling him slightly shiver at that. Though, he then levelled out a nervous breath.

"I couldn't sleep before, I needed to be with you, Oleg. It's the second time you get involved in my shit and that you get through danger and fuck, your red Ducati is destroyed and you risked your..."

I closed his mouth with another type of kiss and he immediately responded to that with more avidity and intensity. I was aware he would feel guilty. I was aware of that and prepared to make him reason.

"I am here to protect you if you need it and I do not care about taking risks. I did it for most part of my life, for I was a soldier, and if I can do it for the person I love most, then I cannot ask for a greater honour. You are aware about what kind of man I am, correct?" He nodded. "I believe you feel the same, am I right?" Anatoly nodded once more and then rested the back of his head on the door, silently observing me, still pondering over his sense of guilt. "Do not feel guilty, but simply think it as if normal: I am your partner and I will always be beside you, whenever you need it. I made a promise to you and to your parents, and I could only do but one thing: keep it and I did so." He kept silent for longer and then half smiled to me.

"Yeah, you sure kept your promise, as always, Oleg," he said, again touching my hair and then his eyes stopped on the bandages on my thigh and side. "How do you feel? Does it hurt?" He sighed out and carefully rested his hand on it, as if afraid of causing me pain, but I just pulled him closer letting our foreheads touch.

"Anatoly, I fell down several times while riding my Ducati in a racetrack and I wore protections, so do not worry."

"Yeah, but it's different and fuck, she could have driven over you," he swore out quietly. "Are you really OK? Do you swear it? You are playing Hulk part, right?"

"Anatoly, I am perfectly well and I feel no pain. Now, stop worrying about me and about these insignificant scratches, am I understood?" At my words and purposely authoritative voice, he cracked a carefree smile.

"Fine, impassive and bossy bastard," he said with more relaxed voice and my brow cocked up at his new way of addressing me: bossy he said? As if "bossing" someone like Anatoly around would prove to be an effortless task. He quietly laughed at my expression and gave a quick lick at the tip of my nose. I smiled and pecked his lips.

Then, my eyes set more serious on him. Another matter was pending on us.

"Will you now tell me what you remembered?" He tensed up of a small degree and his eyes averted away, staring at some unimportant place of my room. "Anatoly? I need to know, because I must move around accordingly." He bit his lower lip as if thinking about what reply to give me. As I had feared: it was not going to be easy.

"Can I tell you later?"

"Why later? Later when?" I asked more decisively, feeling my patience running short, but then he was the one suddenly crashing his lips on mine, his tongue immediately slipping inside my mouth aggressively and guided by primal hunger and desire, but also, letting me taste the depth of his emotions.

I let him for a while, but then I took control over it, because the way our tongues connected and tangled wanting to win over the other, only inflamed me much more than before. My hands slipped lower and clawed his ass and he hissed in my mouth, pressing fiercer on me and giving me the chance to feel how hard he was. Exactly like I was. A growl escaped my throat and it served to ignite Anatoly even more, for his hands dug into my sides and then took rather strong hold of my ass. There were many emotions fusing in our kiss that had become almost aggressive and very wild.

If anything had happened to him today ... but it did not. I kept my promise and Anatoly, in a way, had kept his.

I deepened the kiss and suddenly pushed Anatoly against the door, driving my hardness against his. He groaned out a moment as the kiss was broken, because we wanted to look at each other. Our foreheads rested together and our chests rose and lowered in uneven breaths. We slowed them down and solely stared at one another.

"I want you and I need you, Oleg."

I only pierced him with my eyes and I knew he had read the same need and desire into me. It was not about mere physical need or desire, but much more. It was about feeling each other safe and well; it was about letting out the anger we repressed the entire day; it was about connecting our souls in a deeper and more intimate way. It was about us loving each other to indescribable levels.

Author's chit-chat:

Thank you very much to @FaySummers for your very useful feedback and for pointing out my very silly mistake, which I could have prevented by better checking the chapter :D :D

What were you expecting and what were you not expecting?

What are you thoughts, reactions, comments and feelings about this chapter? I think the confrontation with that woman was very strong and emotional, right?

I think we can all understand why Oleg and Anatoly need time together and need to be physically close. Well...this we'll have in CH.28 and also, in the same chapter we will learn about what Tolya remembered and we will finally understand why Caden is after him.

I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, so I will be looking forward to reading your comments, thank you!

Stay tuned, because CH.28 will be posted on Sunday! And yes, soon I will post CH.31 of "Fallen for an Angel".

Thank you for everything, my dear readers!

Lots of Love, Magic, Hugs & Meows,
-TheWitchAndTheCat-