Mine to Keep

by Rhenna Morgan

  Kevin opened his mouth to protest, but only got a grunt out when his father elbowed him in the ribs.

  Gretta cleared her throat and faced Sergei. “Mr. Petrovyh, my most sincere apologies for the damage caused by my man’s greed. I assure you, he will be dealt with expeditiously. I assume that, in exchange for the return of those under your protection, we can agree to find a happy truce and resume our individual business?”

  “No,” Roman cut in before Sergei could respond. “Rossi is mine.”

  Sergei eyed Roman over his shoulder and cocked one eyebrow as though considering his demand.

  There was no consideration to it, though. Roman knew it. Sergei knew it. Even Gretta had to accept it was more than his due.

  But politics had their place. Even among thieves and killers.

  Finally, Sergei nodded and faced Gretta. “I must agree with my avtoritet. Actions were taken against his bride. Formalities and consideration ignored.”

  Sighing, Gretta raked Rossi with a contemptuous scowl. “Well, I will be regaining significant lost income.” She shrugged and held her hands out to one side. “Who am I to argue with a reasonable request?” She glanced at the guard closest to her and motioned to Rossi. “Take him.”

  “No.” Rossi backed away and drew his gun before the guards could reach him, his aim swinging between Gretta, Sergei and Bonnie. Not that he had a prayer of hitting Sergei or Gretta. Kir and Roman had closed in on instinct, shielding their vor with their own firearms aimed at Rossi. Gretta’s guards had done the same for her.

  But Bonnie was unprotected. Left wide open. And no matter how fast Roman moved, he’d never out maneuver a bullet.

  Rossi took another step back, the front of his barrel swinging from one target to another while he scrambled to think of a way out. “You think to hand me over so easily?” he all but spat to Gretta. “To him?” His gaze slid to Roman and a grated, yet maniacal chuckle rolled up his throat. “You will not have me. And you will not have her either.”

  One heartbeat.

  Punctuated by the overpowering rapport of gunshot ricocheting off the metal walls and concrete floors.

  Roman lunged into the gun’s trajectory with all he had. Aimed his own shot and prayed to God and any other being in the universe who might have a thought to help him that Rossi wouldn’t hit his target. He hit the concrete hard, the thud of his body against the unforgiving surface mixing with another thump that made his heart go cold.

  He rolled and shot to his feet, trusting his brothers to cover his back.

  Bonnie.

  Kneeling on the floor, but upright. Breathing. Sobbing. Her hands covered in blood.

  But not her own.

  Her father lay slumped in her arms, a growing red stain blossoming from his belly.

  He’d saved her. Done what Roman hadn’t had the advantage to do and protected his daughter at his own cost.

  Behind Roman, shouts and scuffles sounded, Rossi’s futile arguments meeting nothing but muscle and iron will to subdue him. Kevin stood to one side of Bonnie and surveyed the carnage at his feet and the chaos opposite him as though dumbfounded.

  Roman ignored them all and fell to his knees beside Bonnie and her father. “Let me carry him. We will get him help.”

  A wet cough mixed with ironic laughter made Buzz jerk in Bonnie’s lap. “Now, that’s a waste of healthcare if I ever heard one.” He closed his eyes, his breath huffing in and out of his mouth in short bursts. “Right thing to do. Finally.” His eyes opened and he stared up at his daughter, the color of them the same as Bonnie’s. “’Bout time I did right by her.”

  He lifted one hand and touched her cheek. “So pretty. Just like your momma.” His hand fell back to his side and his head lolled toward Roman. “She told me she got her a good man.” Another few breaths, each one growing shorter and shorter. “Be better to her than I was.”

  He closed his eyes.

  Bonnie gripped him tighter and leaned closer. “Daddy!”

  But he was gone. Roman knew the sound all too well. That final exhalation and the silence and stillness that followed. He rested one hand on hers where she gripped her father’s shoulder. “Bonnie.”

  Kevin crumbled to his knees beside them, his eyes wide with disbelief.

  “No!” Bonnie shook her father. “No, you gotta wake up. Daddy!”

  Such pain. Raw and slicing deep.

  And he could do nothing to stop it. Nothing save hold her while reality ripped through her very being and rearranged her world.

  Seconds slipped into minutes, the coppery bite of blood and the now hushed voices behind them filling the long painful void. Footsteps clipped across the concrete, followed by the door at the opposite end of the warehouse opening and closing.

  Kir moved into sight on his right and urged Kevin to his feet.

  A hand pressed against Roman’s shoulder.

  Sergei.

  “We must move them,” he said in Russian.

  No more words were necessary. Guns had been fired and the warehouse was an operational space. One that would have workers arriving in only a matter of hours when there was still considerable cleanup to handle.

  But it was over.

  Bonnie was safe.

  Alive. Even if it had come at the cost of her father.

  “And the kozel?” he asked without looking away from Bonnie.

  “Contained,” Sergei said. “Rossi is yours to do with as you please.”

  Roman studied Bonnie’s face. Noted every tear. The blood on her hands and clothes and the grief in her features as she wept. Rossi would pay for all of it. Would echo the same wails and pleas his koroleva had suffered this night before he was done.

  But first, he had to get her home. He guided her hands away from her father’s still body and held them tight. “Let them take him, vozlyublennaya. Our men will take care of him.”

  She sniffled, but nodded.

  As soon as she did, two of the soldiers they’d had on standby moved in to lift her father’s body away.

  Roman guided her to her feet, giving her time to adjust and get her bearings.

  She looked up at him, the green in her eyes vivid and bright with the sheen of her tears and her cheeks splotched with red. “He told me he was sorry. When we were waiting for Rossi to set up the exchange with you—Dad told me he was sorry. That he was proud of me.”

  Odd, how life worked. How even the most untenable circumstance could generate even the tiniest positive outcome. Or, in this case, something deeply felt.

  Roman tucked her hair behind one ear and wiped one tear free from her cheek. “Of course he was proud of you. How could he not be? I told you. You are a queen.”

  She laughed at that. A bittersweet one to be sure, but at least a sliver of her brightness shone through.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her forehead against his chest. “What the hell am I going to do now?”

  Roman held her tight and kissed the top of her head. “You will do what he would have wanted for you to do. You will move on. Build your new family and live the way you want to.”

  Slowly, she lifted her head and met his gaze. “With you.”

  “Yes, moya koroleva. With me. Always.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  One last visit. One last reason to look upon the home she’d grown up in. Bonnie parked the new cherry red Camaro she’d bought about six months ago across the street from the dreary looking house, got out and took a moment to soak it all in. Per usual, the trash bins out front were overflowing. Though, this time they weren’t full of empty beer bottles or other party remnants, but the results of a thorough house cleaning. Two older model pickup trucks were centered right out front, one of them with a medium-sized U-Haul trailer hooked to the back of it.

  Funny. She’d always thought if she made it to this point in he
r life, she’d look on the place and think nothing except good riddance. Instead, the only emotion she could drum up was peace. As if the house was nothing more than a symbol of the past she’d finally accepted and had chosen to release.

  Two men she didn’t recognize filed out of the front door that’d been propped open, both of them hefting big boxes and headed for the U-Haul. Despite the January winds whipping around the place and making the mid-sixties late afternoon feel more like mid-fifties, they were both in T-shirts and long gym shorts and looked like they could lift pretty much anything they needed to.

  Kevin showed a few seconds after them dressed nearly the same, a lamp in one hand and a good chunk of hanging clothes gripped in the other. He noted her watching as soon as he reached the U-Haul and jerked his chin up in greeting. “Hey, Bonnie. Thanks for coming.”

  God, he sounded and acted so much different these days. Lighter. Less angry and urgent. As if the near year since their father had died had slowly lifted an ugly veil off him.

  He handed off his burden to one of the two guys stacking stuff in the trailer and ambled across the street, an easy, contented smile on his face. “You finish up the paperwork?”

  “Yeah, I got it.” She pulled the thick stack of legalese out of her hobo bag and handed it over. “You sure you want to do it this way? You could always list it and sell it to a family.”

  He took the document signing over the property to a real estate company intent on revamping the whole area and shook his head. “Nah.” He turned and studied the house, a calm albeit sad certainty entering his voice. “It needs to be torn down. This whole damned place needs a fresh start.”

  A fresh start.

  Like the one she’d been given.

  Like the one Kevin was working his way through.

  They stood in silence, Kevin taking in every detail while Bonnie marveled at the difference in her brother. The torture he’d suffered from Rossi’s goons had done a lot to knock loose all the stubborn, stupid ideas he’d grown up with. The final blow had come when Roman had beaten out of Rossi that Jennette was, in fact, a loose end that had been permanently silenced.

  Nothing like having two deaths on your hands to make you reevaluate and rebuild your life.

  Bonnie dipped her head to the two guys heading in for another load. “Who are those guys?”

  “I work with ’em. They started a few months before I did.”

  Started meaning the construction job Roman had given him on one of his crews after Kevin had healed enough to move without thinking he was gonna die. “They newbies in the biz like you?”

  “Oh, no. They had a lot of experience, but they helped me out.” He nodded to one of them when they reappeared with another load. “They’re good guys. Didn’t even want beer or pizza for helping me out.”

  “Dude. That’s not good. That’s awesome.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed with a chuckle. “My life’s got a lot of that lately.” A somberness crept onto his face. “I’ve got you and Roman to thank for that.”

  “Oh, no. I’m not takin’ credit. Roman, yes. But not me.” She’d chosen to stay mostly on the sidelines and watch and wait. Better that than to risk witnessing her brother falling back into his old behaviors again.

  But with Roman’s help, Kevin had come a helluva long way. He’d started at the very lowest rung of the construction business and was working his way up. Through every step of it, Roman had mentored him. Guided him the same way he did the other guys who’d not had a great start in life. Had kept him focused and reminded Kevin what his life could be like if he did things different this time.

  “Come on,” Kevin said. “You and I both know he’d have never done this much for me if it hadn’t been for you.”

  “Actually, you’d be surprised how many people he’s helped.” Her included. In the past eleven months, she’d spent countless hours apprenticing with Mr. Frannelly. Learning not just the craft of jewelry making and design, but helping him run his business which left Chana more time to volunteer at the synagogue. A total win-win for everyone. In between it all, she’d started the business program at Tulane and helped out at each of the André’s locations, making sure the bartenders stayed up to snuff and didn’t short customers on drinks.

  The best of all worlds in both business and family. The only thing she hadn’t fully dealt with was letting her brother back in on a personal level.

  She cleared her throat and studied her distressed brown boots—another ridiculously priced gift from Roman on her last birthday. “So, what would you think about coming over to mine and Roman’s place tonight? Sergei, Kir and the girls will be there, too. We’re having hamburgers and hot dogs and watchin’ the Saints in the Wild Card game.”

  A big grin split his face. Not the smug one he used to sport, but a shy one that spoke of surprise. “First time you’ve ever asked me over.”

  “Yeah.” Hard to admit the truth, but they’d had enough problems between them growing up. Time to be honest. “I thought it’d be good to let you sort yourself out a bit.”

  “Because you couldn’t trust me.” Not a question, but a fact. One he seemed to openly admit.

  She shrugged. “That’s some of it. You used me to cover what you were doing and it put me in a bad place. I wasn’t sure if you’d try to take advantage of my relationship with Roman.” Or with her connection to Sergei for that matter.

  “I get it.” He looked to the asphalt for a second, then lifted his head and cut to the chase. “What’s the rest of it?”

  A tricky answer. One she hadn’t even really realized for herself until he’d called her and told her he wanted to let the house go. “It’s been good seeing you get better. Holding down a real job. Saving your money.” She nodded toward one of the guys with a box in his arms. “Making friends.”

  Kevin nodded, but otherwise kept quiet.

  “I think I was afraid you’d slip back to all the old shit. And frankly, having you get close only to get an up-close view if you did wasn’t something I could’ve handled.”

  “And now?”

  Now? Now things were pretty solid. Not just for him, but for her, too. She had career goals and a great family. Maybe not one bound by blood, but one built by choice. Kevin deserved that, too. “Now I’m thinkin’ we’re both in a good place. It’s time.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  The smile on his face alone was enough to make her want to get a little weepy, but when he opened is arms and pulled her in for a bear hug, tears filled her eyes. When had been the last time they’d shared a simple hug? Middle school? No, more like grade school.

  But here they were, finally getting around to overcoming their pasts.

  In the pocket of her coat, her phone let out a sharp ding. Then another. And another. And two more after that.

  Bonnie laughed and pulled away, dashing the tears on her cheeks away with the back of her hand before she pulled her phone from her pocket. “Sorry. That many dings in a row means it’s probably Cassie.”

  She swiped the unlock feature and, sure enough, a string of messages from her best friend were lined up on the screen.

  Where the heck are you!!!

  There are burgers to be had!

  Football to watch.

  Tight end asses to appreciate!

  Roman won’t start the grill until you’re here!

  “Everything okay?” Kevin asked.

  “Yeah, she’s just givin’ me hell because I’m late.” She typed out a quick reply saying she’d be there in thirty and stuffed the phone back in her pocket. “So? What do you think? Wanna brave the family for football and food?”

  He ducked his head. Not in a shy way, but like he genuinely was trying to hide his expression.

  Weird.

  When he finally met her gaze again, the look was gone, replaced with one that was much more ma
tter-of-fact. “I think I’ll pass on this one. But hit me up next time, and I’ll be there for sure.”

  “All right. Sounds good.” She opened the door to her car and slid into the driver’s seat. “Do me a favor and let me know when you’re moved. I wanna swing by and see the new place.”

  “Deal,” he said with a nod and wave. He winked and smiled huge. “Have a good night, sis. Let me know how it goes.”

  How what goes?

  It was a football watch party. You ate. You yelled at the television when the refs did stupid stuff. Then everyone went home stuffed with too much food and happy.

  Whatever.

  She was late, hungry and ready for some chill time. With a wave and a roar from her gas guzzling V12, she waved goodbye and headed home.

  Half an hour later, she pulled into the garage next to Roman’s Raptor. Oddly, no other cars were lined up in the driveway or in front of the house.

  Odd, yes. Unheard of, no. After all, when you were a mob boss—or pakhan, as Roman had told her when he’d educated her on the nuances of Russian bratva—or were part of their family, you had the benefit of lots of badasses to drive you around.

  She punched the garage door opener and strode through the back door. Instead of finding the people closest to her gathered in the kitchen and noshing on pre-game snacks, the room was cast in early evening shadows. “Roman?” She shut the door behind her and locked it. “Where is everybody?”

  Rather than hear him answer from the living room where the biggest television was located, his voice reverberated down from the stairway. “Up here, moya koroleva.”

  What the...

  She headed up the stairs, straining her ears for some clue as to what the heck everyone was doing on the third floor. Maybe Roman was showing them the workroom they’d set up for her last month. Or maybe the living room TV was on the fritz—which totally sucked because that OLED number Roman had purchased specifically for playoff season had been a seriously high-ticket item.

  She reached the third floor to complete silence.

  No one in her workroom.

  For that matter, there was no one anywhere. “Roman, where is everyone?” She strode into the bedroom and got two steps in before her brain fully comprehended the picture in front of her and pulled her to a complete stop.