by S. C. Daiko
Mark’s blue eyes twinkle. “I expect you’ll be getting a visit from the tooth fairy.”
“Will she know we’re here?” Becca cocks her head to the side.
“The tooth fairy knows where everyone is.”
“My friend, Ben, has got new teeth. They’re very big,” she says excitedly.
“That’s interesting.” A slight smile flickers across his face.
“Yeah. He lives next door.” She takes a bite of her chocolate chip cookie.
Oh, God. Don’t tell them about Daniel. Please, Becca.
I shoot her a pleading look.
“Becca has lots of friends in the village.” I try to distract her.
“That’s nice, dear,” Rachel pats my hand. “I hope you’ve made friends there too.”
“She has.” Becca nods, speaking with her mouth full. “She’s made friends with Ben’s dad. He’s called Daniel.”
My cheeks flame.
Rachel and Mark stare at me.
Realisation dawns in their eyes.
Please don’t say anything.
They don’t say anything, just carry on the conversation, focussing on Becca and how much she likes Northamptonshire. They ask me about my work, and I tell them I’m doing okay. Which I am. I’ll never get rich from what I do, but that doesn’t bother me.
Eventually, it’s time to leave. “My sister is coming home from uni for the weekend,” I tell Rachel and Mark. “We should go back to Mum and Dad’s.”
“Yay, I wanna see Auntie Megan,” Becca gets down from the sofa. She kisses her grandmother before turning to me. “But we’ll come back tomorrow, won’t we, Mum?”
“Definitely.”
At the door, Rachel leans towards me and whispers, “I’m glad you’re moving on, dear. Josh would want you to be happy.”
What can I say? Guilt blooms in my stomach. There’s no way she and Mark will ever be able to move on from losing their only son. I give her a hug and whisper, “I know.”
I help Becca buckle up her seatbelt in the car; we wave goodbye and set off. On the way home, I talk to her about how Daniel is a private person, and how he doesn’t like people to know too much about him.
She scrunches up her forehead. “But why?”
“It’s just the way he is. So, please don’t talk about him, okay?” I reach across and touch my hand to her fingers. “You didn’t do anything bad. It was my fault for not telling you before.”
She nods thoughtfully. “He’s a secret, then?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Is Ben a secret too?”
“Not really. I mean, he’s your friend so you can talk about him. Just don’t mention his dad, okay?”
“Okay.” Her smile is easy, just like Josh’s was, and my heart gives a little lurch.
Soon we’re back home; my hot-headed sister grabs hold of me the minute I step into the living room, bearing down on me like a spiky blonde missile. “Why didn’t you tell me about your neighbour?” She quirks a pencilled brow. “Mum just gave me the info.”
“Daniel is a secret,” Becca blabs. She claps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry…”
Major backfire, Cat.
I sit Megan down and give her a condensed version of what’s been going on.
Very condensed.
I stress we’ve only known each other a short time, that we’re still basically just friends. Then I distract her by asking about her latest boyfriend, Sebastian. I listen with rapt attention, asking all the right questions to keep her from asking me anything about Daniel.
My ploy seems to work.
I just hope I can keep it up for the rest of the weekend.
Chapter Twenty
Daniel
I’m lying in bed, attempting to fall asleep. I punch my pillow and try to get comfortable. To no avail; it’s been one hell of a day. Ben was spending time with me in my studio. It seemed a good idea to teach him how to paint, a father and son activity we could share. I suppose I just forgot he’s only five years-old. He was trying to draw a horse and ended up getting so frustrated he couldn’t master it that he had a full-blown tantrum. He tore up the piece of paper he was working on and stamped it into the floor, wailing like a banshee, tears streaming down his little face.
I’d held him to me, but he’d struggled and squirmed his way out of my arms before running up to his bedroom. I’d followed him and had stood in the door looking on while he threw himself down on the bed, pounding his fists into the mattress. After he’d cried himself out, he let me pick him up and cradle him like the small child he still is. My fault for treating him otherwise. He’ll soon be six, but that’s no excuse; he’s still very young. “I want Catrin,” he’d sobbed, and I felt like saying, I want her too.
That’s when I distracted him by telling him about Eric’s visit, explaining I was going up to London for the day next Friday, and that Eric would keep him company while I’m gone.
“Will he bring me a game?” Ben had smiled through his tears, his frustration at not being able to draw that damn horse already forgotten.
I’d laughed and tickled him under the ribs. “Let’s go downstairs and see if there’s any ice-cream in the freezer.”
After devouring a Cornetto each, we went for a long walk through the woods, then spent the rest of the afternoon building pirate ships with his Lego. I’d steered him away from attempting to follow any specific design, letting him have free rein.
Except he’d insisted on taking the ship he’d built into the bath with him, and it hadn’t floated but had sunk to the bottom, sending him back into full tantrum mode again.
Jesus Christ!
He’s in bed now… asleep. All I need now is for him to have one of his nightmares, and my day will be complete.
God, I miss Catrin. I glance at my phone on the bedside table, and before I can even think twice, I pick it up and call her.
“Daniel, is anything wrong?” she answers almost immediately.
“Not exactly,” I say before telling her about Ben’s antics.
“Normal behaviour for a five-year-old.” I hear the smile in her voice. “Becca’s tantrums are unbelievable. Last one was when I wouldn’t let her use a sharp knife in the kitchen. She accused me of treating her like a baby.”
“Parenting isn’t easy…” I release a slow breath. Just talking to her is grounding me, putting everything into perspective. “I miss you, darling. And so does Ben. When he was crying, he asked for you.”
“I miss you and Ben too.”
She breathes a sigh that pangs in my heart
“So, how are things in Wales?”
“Still full of sheep,” she giggles.
I remember my crass remark to her father and clear my throat. “Have you been to see Josh’s parents?”
She says she took Becca to visit them this afternoon. My skin prickles with anxiety until she reassures me that she has moved on from her late husband. “I love you, Daniel. Josh is my past and you are my future.”
I want to draw her into my arms. Fuck, I want to fucking fuck her I love her so much. I feel a throb between my legs and press my hand to my cock, my erection rubbing against my palm.
“Where are you now, darling?”
“In my room. I’m in bed.”
Her voice is a throaty whisper.
Does she feel it too?
This need.
I close my eyes and think about her beautiful tits, how high they sit on her chest, and her dark pink nipples.
“Tell me what you’re wearing, babe.”
“A cami top and PJ bottoms.”
I imagine her flushed skin, how she’ll be biting her lips, and I release a soft growl. “Lock your bedroom door and get undressed.”
“Why?”
Her tone is playful.
“Just do as you’re told.”
“Yes, sir.”
I hear the click of the key turning. “Get back into bed and put the phone next to you on the pillow. You’ll need both of your hands.”
Her answer is a sharp intake of breath.
I bet there’s a glazed look of arousal in her eyes.
I pull my sleep shorts down around my hips and free my dick. Tingles flourish through my balls.
“Press your tits together, Catrin. Squeeze them for me, then spread your legs.” I can almost smell her musky sweet scent.
“Oh, yes,” she gasps.
“Twist your nipples. Rub them and pull on them. Don’t worry about the pain. I bet you’re soaked.”
“I am,” she murmurs. “God, Daniel… I can feel it, how wet I am.”
I moan at that, and start to pump my cock with one hand, pausing to swirl my thumb over the head. “I’m going to have phone sex with you,” I grunt. “Spread your pussy, rub your clit. Pretend my tongue is inside you.”
She gives a whimper, and I can picture her ploughing her cunt with frantic fingers.
“So wet,” she draws out the words in a soft whisper. “Everything. So wet. Daniel… God.”
My balls draw up tight into my body. “Fuck, I’m coming… come with me, baby.”
“Ah,” she pants. “Ooh… Yes… “
I shut my eyes, picturing her climaxing on the other end of the line; I give a ragged moan and shoot my load into my fingers. Fuck. I reach for a Kleenex and wipe myself clean.
Cat sighs and takes one deep breath after another. Then her voice breaks the silence. “I’m ready to go to sleep now,” I hear her yawn.
“Good night, darling. I’ll call you again tomorrow.”
We sign off and my pulse slows to a sluggish pace as tiredness catches up with me; I drop into sleep within seconds.
The days pass with Ben and I spending quality time together. We alternate spells at home with outings to the theme park in Kettering, the trampoline centre in Northampton, and the wildlife park in Brackley. There’ve been no further tantrums and no nightmares, thank God.
At night, before dropping off to sleep, Cat and I chat on the phone and tell each other what we’ve been up to. She’s mostly been chilling with her family, although she did take Becca clothes shopping in Cardiff yesterday. We’ve fallen into the routine of getting each other off before going to sleep. It’s horny as fuck and we both love it, even though I know she can’t wait to get back. “We can play properly, then,” she said yesterday.
Just three more days, I remind myself as I get up on Friday morning. Eric arrived last night with the assurance that he’s set up the meeting for me and Gleb at Diana’s this afternoon. Eric stayed in my guest room, so I can set off in time.
I shower and dress quickly before going down to the kitchen. Ben and Eric look up at me from the table, where they’re having breakfast, and my son tells me they’re going to play Crash Bandicoot on his tablet until I get home. It’s not something I usually encourage… in fact, I limit his gaming to a maximum of one hour a day, and even that’s pushing it. Except, there’s nothing safer than him staying in the house with my protection officer… so I let it pass.
I grab a cup of coffee and put some bread in the toaster. “Keep the door locked and bolted,” I remind Eric.
He gives me a mock salute, and smirks. “Don’t worry. All will be well.”
After I’ve had my toast and coffee, I bend and kiss Ben on the cheek. “Be a good boy, son. I’ll be home before suppertime.”
He squirms away from me, already intent on his damn game. But better that than having him begging to come with me.
It will be hard enough seeing my brother on my own.
The first thing I notice when I step into Diana’s apartment is that she’s not looking at all well. It’s not just that she’s aged; it’s that she’s lost a lot of weight. She catches me staring at her as she leads me into her living room, coming straight out with it. “Pancreatic cancer, I’m afraid,” she says. “I only have a few months before I kick the bucket.”
Trust Diana not to beat about the bush; she was always candid. “I was hoping you’d let me see my grandson one last time,” she adds. “That’s why I agreed to this meeting. I wanted you to see for yourself, so you’d believe I haven’t got long.”
“I’m so sorry.” I break eye contact with her as I think about what to say next. Then I reach for her hand and squeeze her fingers. “It’ll depend on what happens with Gleb.” I look around the room. “Where is he, by the way?”
She checks her watch. “He should have arrived by now. I suppose he’s been held up.”
She offers me a coffee, which I decline. “Some water would be nice, thanks.”
I sit on an overstuffed armchair while she goes to her kitchen.
Fuck, if Gleb doesn’t show I don’t know what I’ll do.
Everything rests on this meeting.
Diana returns, and we sit staring at each other uncomfortably. I sip my water, then get up and pace around the room before returning to my seat again.
I reach for my phone to call Eric.
The doorbell chimes.
Diana and I leap to our feet.
She goes to open and I stand and wait, my heartbeats quickening.
And then, he’s there.
My brother.
Taller than me, broader, with the piercing blue eyes he inherited from Mama.
He stalks up to me, and claps me on the shoulder, his bodyguard bringing up the rear.
“Good to see you, Alexei.”
“How are things in Moscow?” I can’t resist asking.
“Who the hell told you I was in Russia?” His voice is different somehow. “I’ve been living in the USA.”
I blink the surprise from my eyes.
His accent.
That’s what has changed.
Gleb could never lose the Russian timbre to his voice, no matter how hard he tried. Except now it’s more nasal, sharper.
He sounds almost American.
I take a step back, and this bodyguard comes into the periphery of my vision.
Jesus, it’s Tom. The man who shot Victoria’s assassin.
What the fuck is he doing working for Gleb?
My brother holds me in his stern gaze. “We need to talk.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Daniel
Diana leaves us in her living room with Tom standing sentinel just inside the door.
My dark eyes clash with my brother’s electrifying blues. “Fuck, Gleb. What’s going on?”
“I could ask the same.” He’s standing so close his hot minty breath fans my hair. “I’ve been searching for three fucking years.”
I step back and bite out the words, “I was protecting my son.”
Gleb’s brows pull in and he glances around. “Where is he, by the way? I was hoping to see my nephew.”
“Not your concern.” I flex the muscles in my arms. “In any case, he doesn’t even know you exist.”
“Jesus, Alexei. That fucking hurts.”
“My name is Daniel now.” I clench my jaw, hating him so much I could throttle him.
But I don’t, of course.
One, I need his help.
Two, his damn bodyguard is standing there… the fucking traitor.
“You’ll always be Alexei to me.” Gleb’s eyes burn into mine. “You’re my brother. That wanker, Eric, acted real shifty when he contacted me.”
A razor-blade of worry tears my insides. “He let me believe you were in Moscow.”
“Why would I go back there? It’d be like walking into the lion’s den.” He hisses. “They kill you in Russia. No questions asked.”
“I thought you were in cahoots with the Kremlin.” I shake my head. “It’s what I was lead to believe.”
“That’s the other lot,” he says sharply.
“The other lot?”
“The Brotherhood, they’re called.” His eyes narrow. “Those fuckers wanted to murder you and ended up killing your wife. They’re one of the criminal groups that still has connections with the old country.”
I rasp out a breath. “I thought you were a part of that set-up.�
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His face assumes a hard, shadowed expression. “Not me. But I’m afraid our dear Papa wasn’t as squeaky clean as he’d led us to believe.”
I jerk my head back.
No! Can’t be…
“I don’t believe it.” I slant my body away from him.
He places a hand on his chest. “I swear it’s true.”
“What about the accident?” My voice rises. “When Mama and Papa’s car crashed into that ravine? You took off so soon afterwards…”
“You thought I was involved?” Gleb’s laugh is scathing. “Despite everything, I loved Papa.”
“What do you mean despite everything?”
“Remember when you confronted me? I didn’t want to dishonour your memories of him so soon after he’d died. But it wasn’t me who was laundering mafia money…”
My belly tightens. “Why did you leave then? I thought it was because you were guilty. You had access to that account.”
“I’m not a saint, believe me.” He crosses his arms over his pecs. “Let’s just say my New York investments needed my personal attention. And the account you’re taking about could also be accessed by Papa.”
“You knew I’d blown the whistle, Gleb. Yet you left me to the mercy of those fucking assassins.”
“I made sure Tom was there to keep an eye on you.” His tone is defensive.
I stare at his bodyguard, and anger stokes a fire in my guts. I had no idea Gleb had set him up with me. “It wasn’t enough, and we both know it,” I spit out.
“I agree, we were complacent.” A groan escapes him. “I’m sorry Victoria took that bullet, believe me. But I’d have been a whole lot sorrier if it had been you.”
I grit my teeth. “You knew those fuckers were after me; you should have warned me. Victoria was pregnant.”
He reaches across and places his hand on my shoulder. “I said I was sorry, Alexei.”
I recoil from his touch. “It made me even more determined to protect my son.”
“When you gave Tom the slip and disappeared, I started looking for you.” He lowers his voice. “The Brotherhood haven’t given up searching either, from what I’ve learned. Their filthy footprints have been on every dead-end trail I found.”