Nightfall

by Nicole Fox

  “Me?” My eyebrows shoot up. “No, I’m not.”

  “You are,” he insists. “You’re intimidating because it’s difficult to intimidate you. You aren’t afraid of anything.”

  That isn’t true in the slightest.

  I’m scared of everything.

  I’m especially scared of Dmitry … and the way I feel for him. But I decide not to say any of that.

  Instead, I brush my knee against his leg again and stare up at the movie screen as though I’m giving it all of my attention. He releases a frustrated growl next to me.

  When the movie is over, none of us are ready to go home, so I suggest we walk around the adjoining mall. Dmitry is hesitant, but Tatiana yanks on his arm and all but drags him through the front doors and straight to the toy store.

  Once we are inside, the guards keep a safe distance behind us to the point I can almost forget they’re there at all.

  I want a pretzel, Tati says, pointing to the food court.

  After popcorn and candy? Dmitry asks. Aren’t you full?

  Tati insists she isn’t and then grabs my arm and drags me into the argument. Courtney wants one, too.

  Dmitry raises a brow at me, and I shrug. “I wouldn’t mind a pretzel.”

  He rolls his eyes, but I can tell he’s having a good time. He enjoys seeing Tati be a normal kid just as much as I do. Her days are busy with resting and physical therapy and lessons from a tutor Dmitry hired, so it feels good to let her get out of the house and enjoy the simple offerings of the local mall.

  Tatiana is only halfway through her pretzel when she looks over and sees princess-style dresses in a store window. Her eyes go wide and glassy, and she doesn’t sign anything; she just points.

  Those? I ask.

  She nods, mouth hanging open, and I turn to Dmitry. “Can we try one on?”

  He groans. “Only if I don’t have to go in. I’m tired.”

  “Maybe you’re the one who needs physical therapy,” I tease.

  He smiles and then hands me his credit card. “Don’t let her go too crazy.”

  Tatiana grabs my hand and pulls me inside. I follow her around the store, grabbing dress after dress and throwing them over my arm. The saleswoman, excited about the possibility of a large sale—and a large commission—gets us a dressing room and gives Tati a bottle of water to drink as she goes through the arduous task of dressing up like a princess.

  She’s excited and signs things too quickly for me to keep up, but I don’t need an interpreter to understand the smile on her face. She’s having the absolute best time.

  The dress she’s most excited about—a purple one with glittery lace around the middle and shimmery beads stitched into the skirt—is too tight around her arms and a bit too short, so like the princess she is, Tati sends me out to the store to get her a larger size.

  The sales associate who had been helping us, an eager blonde woman with bright red lipstick, is nowhere to be seen. Instead, there is a middle-aged woman standing near the cash register.

  “Excuse me,” I say, waving a hand. “Do you work here?”

  The woman doesn’t answer but presses her lips together in a smile and nods in a way that makes me believe she’s happy to help me.

  “I need this dress in a larger size, but I don’t see one on the racks.”

  She squints and scans the store floor. “Let me see, let me see.”

  I follow her in circles around the racks, thinking that if I wanted to scour the entire store, I would have found the dress myself.

  “Let me look in the back,” she says, waving for me to follow her towards the back of the store.

  The dressing rooms are just to my left, and I peek in to see that Tati’s door is still closed, frilly dresses scattered over benches and hanging over the top of the door.

  The woman tries every key on her ring for the back door, but none of them fit.

  “I know I have the key somewhere,” she says, sounding as exasperated as I feel. “Wait here.”

  I stand next to the door, the too-small dress still in my hands, and wait for the woman to rifle through the desk and her pockets. Finally, she walks over to me with the key ring held in the air, a silly smile on her face.

  “It was on the key ring the whole time. Silly me.”

  I laugh, but I’m no longer feeling very forgiving. It only takes her a few seconds to walk inside and come back with the next size up in the purple dress, and I walk it back into the dressing room.

  I throw the dress over the top of the door and shake it around to catch Tati’s attention. When she doesn’t grab it, I shake it again. Then, I stick my foot under the door and wave it around.

  Still, nothing.

  Finally, I push on the door and realize it isn’t even locked.

  I also realize Tatiana isn’t inside.

  My heart jumps immediately to my throat, and I run to every other door to make sure she isn’t hiding in another dressing room. When I can’t find her anywhere, I jog back onto the main sales floor. The woman who helped me find the dress isn’t there anymore, and I don’t have time to wait for her, anyway.

  I run out of the shop and find the guards standing near a cell-phone stand. “Did you see Tati?”

  Both men straighten at my arrival and shake their heads. “She was with you.”

  Panic crushes my chest, and I feel breathless. “She isn’t here.”

  Immediately, one of the men breaks away to find Dmitry.

  To tell him I lost his niece.

  Dmitry walks too fast for me to keep up without jogging. His strides are long and furious.

  “I can’t believe you lost her.”

  “She needed another dress size,” I say, as though that’s any kind of excuse. I let a six-year-old out of my sight. A six-year-old who was recently in a coma. Whose parents are dead. Whose uncle is a Mafia boss.

  Please be alive. Please be nearby. Please don’t be gone.

  I send the silent prayers up to the sky and hope she hasn’t gone far. She needed Dmitry to give her a piggyback ride through a lot of the mall because she was tired. How can she suddenly be gone?

  Dmitry isn’t saying anything, but I know it’s only because he’s too angry to speak. His jaw is clenching and unclenching, his teeth grinding together as we walk. He has already called for more backup to get to the mall, and his guards are spread out in every direction, sweeping through the place with ruthless military-like efficiency.

  “I’ll go check the food court again,” I say, hitching a thumb over my shoulder and backing up in the opposite direction.

  Dmitry doesn’t even turn around. He waves a hand in the air to tell me to go, and I do.

  I don’t know a ton about kids, but I know they’re creatures of habit. If Tatiana got lost, she would go to a place she’d been before. She’d follow the same paths we walked. So, I do that.

  I walk back to the dress store to make sure she didn’t go back there looking for us and then I make my way over to the pretzel stand. From there, I dodge the crowds coming out of the movie theater and head for the claw machine where Dmitry failed to win Tati a stuffed unicorn after three attempts.

  Nothing.

  A panicked sob works its way out of me, and I swallow it back as fast as I can. If I let myself fall apart now, I won’t gather myself up again.

  This was my idea. Coming to the mall after the movie. It was my idea.

  Dmitry would have taken us home where it was safe, so if Tati is gone, it will be my fault.

  Thoughts spin in my head too horrible and fast for me to keep up with, and I feel dizzy when I suddenly see a flash of purple moving through the crowd.

  I stand on my tiptoes and arch around a group of emo teenagers in baggy black pants and chains, and I see her.

  Tatiana.

  She’s in the too-small purple dress, the back of it unzipped, holding the hand of a large man.

  For a second, I think it’s one of Dmitry’s guards, but then I realize that can’t be true. If it was o
ne of the guards, they would be heading back towards Dmitry. They would be on the phone with him, trying to return the little girl to her uncle.

  This man is taking Tatiana to the exit doors.

  Purpose and adrenaline pump through my veins as I run through the crowd, knocking people to the side in an attempt to get to the little girl.

  When the man takes her through the exit doors and into the bright sunshine beyond, I lower my head and run even harder.

  I can’t let her get away.

  The light outside temporarily blinds me, and I hold up a hand to shield my eyes from the afternoon sun. As soon as my vision begins to return, I see the flash of purple again to my right.

  The man is kneeling down next to a large black truck and it takes me a second to realize he’s signing something. To Tati. He’s talking to her.

  “Hey!” I scream as I run towards them.

  The man doesn’t hear me at first, and I’m not sure if he’s deaf too, so I scream again. If nothing else, I want to try and attract as many eyes as possible to our situation.

  “Hey, asshole!” Usually, cursing in front of a child would not be my go-to, but Tati can’t hear me, anyway. “What in the fuck are you doing with my kid?”

  Screaming the truth—what are you doing with the recently orphaned niece of the man holding me captive as collateral for my father’s illicit Mafia debts—seemed a little long-winded.

  The man turns around and Tati follows his gaze. She steps forward when she sees me, but the man extends a hand out to hold her back.

  I’m getting closer to them now, only ten feet away, but I don’t slow down.

  I don’t have a weapon. Not even a purse to hit him with. So, I have to use my body.

  When I’m only a few steps away, I leap into the air and slam my body into the man’s front as hard as I can.

  He grunts with the force of the impact and stumbles back a few steps but doesn’t fall.

  I, on the other hand, have the wind knocked out of my chest. The man is built like a brick wall.

  “Get away from her,” I wheeze, falling away from him and reaching blindly for Tati.

  When her little hand slips into mine, an ounce of my panic disappears.

  She’s alive and safe. For now.

  “I was just talking to her,” the man grumbles.

  “Well, don’t!” I yell. “Ever again. Never come near her. You creep.”

  The man has dark olive-toned skin and dark hair cut into a flat-top. His nostrils flare as he moves towards me, but before he can do anything, I hear yelling behind me. I turn and see Dmitry and his guards rushing towards us.

  Again, another bit of panic floats away.

  We aren’t alone. Dmitry is here.

  “What in the hell is going on?” Dmitry yells.

  The man backs away further but doesn’t leave. I expect him to make a run for it, but he holds his ground.

  “I knew you wouldn’t tell her the truth!” he yells as Dmitry gets closer. “She deserves to know the truth about her parents.”

  The situation gets more and more bizarre at every turn. I thought the man wanted to kidnap Tati, but now it seems as though he’s more determined to tell her the truth about her dead parents?

  What is happening? And why?

  Dmitry arrives and throws his arms around me. For a second, I lean into his touch before I realize he’s grabbing Tati from my arms. He pulls her away from me and runs a hand across her cheek, checking that she’s safe.

  Once he’s satisfied, he sets her on the ground and turns his flat gaze on me. “Take her inside. With the guards. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

  “Who is she?” the strange man asks.

  I realize he’s talking about me. When I look at him, he studies me with hungry eyes, an eyebrow arching. “I don’t recognize her.”

  Dmitry steps forward, his eyes murderous. “Well, I recognize you, asshole. If you care about breathing, I’d suggest you leave.”

  The two men stare at each other, and I watch, frozen, until Dmitry shouts at me.

  “Leave. Now.”

  I jump and then grab Tati’s hand and pull her back inside the mall. Luckily, one of the guards steps forward to grab Tati because I feel lost. He takes Tati to another claw machine and has her point to a toy she might want. I watch the exchange without really seeing it, my mind focused on Dmitry in the parking lot.

  Is he okay?

  Are they fighting?

  Does he need help?

  Before panic can bloom in my chest, a shadow appears over my shoulder. It’s Dmitry.

  He stands next to me without saying a word or looking at me. His eyes are trained on Tati.

  But I’m watching him.

  He has blood on his shirt.

  15

  Dmitry

  This is why I can’t have nice things.

  Normal things, really.

  We went to the mall for one afternoon and everything went to shit.

  Tati is having nightmares, Courtney and I aren’t speaking, and I’m not sure how I feel about any of it.

  At the time, I was mad. Beyond mad.

  I thought it was because Courtney lost sight of Tati, but it wasn’t. I was afraid. That fear turned into rage, and I took it out on Courtney.

  Usually, I don’t feel bad about these kinds of things. I just forget it and move on, but I can’t do that with Courtney. Every time her brown eyes land on me—which has been less and less frequent now that she’s studying for her first exams of the semester—I remember every shitty thing I’ve ever done to her. To her father.

  Even though Courtney is at my house as part of our deal, I know that she cares about me. On some level, at least. And she adores Tati.

  Courtney would never do anything to hurt Tati, and I know she’s bothered by the fact that I don’t trust her. The thing is, I do. I trust her more than I probably should.

  I don’t trust the Italians, however.

  When they were messing with my business, that was one thing. But talking to my niece? That is another situation entirely.

  As soon as I know more, we can strike. We can fight back. Things will certainly spiral out of control, and I know I’ll be condemning us to war, but there is no other way. The Italians want to play dirty? Fine, so will I.

  I have Rurik monitoring things for me, trying to figure out how the Italians know enough to follow my movements and how they know about Tatiana, but he doesn’t have any useful information for me yet. So, I wait.

  While I wait, my mind wanders to Courtney more than I would like, and after days of mulling things over, I decide to make a call.

  Lawrence is breathless when he answers the phone. “Is everything okay? Is she safe?”

  “She’s safe,” I assure him, surprised that my annoyance is only mild at best. “She’s going to school and staying busy, and I just wanted you to know.”

  Courtney’s father sighs with relief. “Thank God.”

  After Tati was taken, even for just a few minutes, I had a small glimpse into what daily life is like for Lawrence right now. I couldn’t continue ignoring his calls and shutting him out.

  Still, I also don’t have time to call him every day.

  “That’s all I wanted to say. I have to go.”

  “Please take care of her,” Lawrence says before I hang up. “She’s a good girl. She deserves it.”

  I don’t say anything on the phone, but Lawrence’s words stick with me. Courtney does deserve … something. Though, I’m not sure what.

  It isn’t until a few days later that I finally figure it out and make the call.

  Courtney gave me a printout of her class schedule and my guards text me when she leaves campus for the day, so when I get home after work, I know she and Tati will be upstairs together.

  If Courtney isn’t at school or studying, she’s with Tati. Always.

  When I walk in the room we decorated for Tati in the west wing, my niece is teaching Courtney how to sign one of her favorite songs. T
he music is deafeningly loud so Tati can feel the bass, but Courtney doesn’t act like she minds. She’s smiling, her dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail that swishes over her shoulders as she bobs her head with the beat.

  When Tati notices me, she opens her mouth wide and hurls herself at me, hands swirling in the air in celebration.

  Courtney turns down the music and grins. “You’re home early.”

  It’s the first genuine smile she has given me in days, and I soak in the warmth of it.

  Then, I stop.

  I can’t count on this. If the experience at the mall taught me anything, it’s that I can’t have a normal family life. I can’t have a beautiful woman waiting for me at home with my kids. I can’t be greeted with hugs and cuddles and smiles.

  My enemies will pounce on that weakness.

  If I let myself depend on seeing Courtney’s face at the end of every day, she’ll be taken from me.

  So, I rub my hand over Tati’s head and give them both a pinched smile before stepping away. “I had to come home and show you a surprise.”

  Surprise? Tati asks, having read my lips.

  I nod. In your old room.

  Before I can even finish signing the sentence, Tati is running out the door and down the hall towards the east wing. Her physical therapy is going well. She only has a slight limp in her right leg from the car crash and her weakened muscles post-coma.

  “What is this about?” Courtney asks. Her voice is closer than I expected and a shiver runs down my spine at the feeling of her breath on my neck.

  “Go see,” I say, gesturing for her to follow Tati.

  She does, walking ahead of me, and though I’m trying to have more self-control, I can’t help but watch her hips move as she walks.

  Courtney moves around the house in tiny shorts that reveal every inch of her tanned, toned legs. Her shirts are loose but the material sticks to the curves of her body in suggestive ways that make it hard not to imagine what lies underneath.

  Though, I don’t have to do much imagining.

  I’ve seen Courtney in just about every position known to man—naked—and yet it still isn’t enough. The usual feeling I have at this point in a relationship for something new, something different, is glaringly absent.