Page 1 of Deviant Need

Prologue

Mikhail – Six years old

The basketball slams against black marble, bouncing in rhythm as I walk down the empty hallway. Bounce. Catch. Bounce. Catch.

The screaming hits me before I even reach the living room. My brothers are fighting over the PlayStation Papa got us for Christmas. One PlayStation for all five of us, and I haven’t gotten to touch it once.

Every time I try, they shove me away and tell me I’ll break it, that I’m too stupid to figure out the controls. I don’t mean to break things, but my hands move before my brain catches up. Sometimes the anger gets so big I can’t hold it inside, and it has to go somewhere. Things get smashed or ripped or shattered, and it’s always my fault.

Even Daniil gets to play sometimes. They let him hold the controller while they yell instructions at him. My brothers are the ones throwing controllers when they lose, shoving each other into walls and knocking over lamps. They break Mama’s decor and fight until she storms in and yanks them apart by their ears, but nobody tells them they’ll break the PlayStation. Nobody says they’re too wild or too much. Just me.

Someone broke Mama’s vase, and everyone decided it was me. The old ugly one from Russia she kept on the pedestal in the sitting room. She’s been crying about it ever since, wandering the house with red eyes, and every single one of my brothers told her I did it. I didn’t even go near that thing, but no one believes me.

Alexei said he saw me do it. Lev said I’m always breaking things, so obviously it was me. Yulian made a comment about how clumsy I am. Daniil was the only one who stood by me.

I hate it here.

America sucks. I miss babushka’s kitchen and my cousins back in Russia who didn’t shove me away when I wanted to play. Ever since Papa moved us here a few months ago, everything’s been different. My brothers used to be nice, they snuck me cookies and ruffled my hair and called me malen’kiy. They let me follow them to the park instead of pushing me away. Now they just tell me to shut up and shove me into walls and say mean things until I feel small and stupid and wrong.

The only one who isn’t mean to me is Daniil.

Papa brought him home when he was two. He was so small and clutching a stuffed elephant, his eyes red and swollen from crying so much. His family died, and we had to take him in. Papa said it wasn’t up for discussion. I was happy because I’d always wanted a younger brother, someone who would look up to me instead of down like the others did. Someone who would be mine.

Daniil cried all the time. At dinner, in the hallway, at night when he thought no one could hear. I heard him through the wall between our rooms, these little hiccupping sobs that made something tighten in my stomach. I’d press my ear against the plaster and wish I knew how to make it stop.

Bounce. Catch. Bounce. Catch.

Stopping in the doorway, the scene in front of me is exactly what I expected. Yulian’s sitting on top of Alexei, yanking the controller out of his hands while Alexei tries to buck him off. Lev’s standing over both of them, yelling at them to stop being idiots, his face red and spit flying everywhere. One of the cords is stretched so tight it’s about to rip the whole console off the TV stand.

“Hey,” I say, bouncing the ball again. The sound cuts through their yelling for half a second. “Have you seen Daniil? He’s not in his room.”

They glance at me for two seconds, then go right back to fighting like I’m not even there.

Dropping the ball, I run and grab for Yulian’s controller before I can stop myself. Maybe if I take it, they’ll finally look at me instead of pretending I don’t exist. Yulian jerks it back and the controller flies out of both our hands, hitting the floor with a loud crack.

I didn’t mean to break it.

I just wanted them to stop fighting and look at me, to remember I exist.

“What have you done?” Lev yells, picking it up and holding it to the light. The plastic’s split down the side, the pieces barely holding together. “This is why you’re not allowed near us! You ruin everything, Mikhail. Everything you touch breaks, you stupid little shit.”

I want to yell back, to tell him he’s the one who breaks things, but he throws his head back and groans at the ceiling like I’m the biggest disappointment in the world.

Someone shoves me hard from behind, and I crash face-first into the marble. Cold bites into my cheek and my teeth slam together so hard I taste blood. Then they’re on top of me, crushing down on my ribs and grinding my face into the floor until breathing feels impossible.

“Stupid.” Yulian’s voice is right in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. He grinds his elbow into my spine just to make it hurt more. “You never listen. Why are you so annoying? We don’t want you here. Do you understand? Nobody wants you.”

I kick and twist, but I can’t get him off me. He’s five years older than me and way bigger, and he knows exactly how to pin me so I can’t move. It’s not fair. My chest hurts where he’s crushing me, and I can’t breathe right.

I hate all of them.

All of a sudden the weight disappears, and I hear Yulian crash into the floor beside me with a groan and a shocked curse.

I flip over fast, gasping for air.

Daniil is standing there with his tiny fists clenched, breathing hard like he just ran a mile.

I can’t believe he just shoved Yulian off me. Daniil, who’s never mean to anyone. His whole body shakes, and his eyes are huge and scared as he stares down at his own hands, like he can’t believe what he just did. He looks terrified of himself.