"That you might have killed the only thing I loved that wasn't chess," Freddie answered and then when silent as the Anatoly up on screen started talking. Singing. Jesus. He didn't want to feel sorry for the man. He didn't want to feel pity. Actually, what he felt was something closer to jealousy. He knew where he belonged. Freddie had been kicked out of the one place he might have called home.

His heart started pounding and he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off the screen. With the accent, it should have been easy to tell that this wasn't Anatoly, but right now? It was so very hard. Did he really feel that way?

A quick glance at the man revealed that he did. Shit.