by S. C. Daiko
“Don’t push me, Alexei,” I use his birth name. “I do what I have to do.”
He recoils as if I’ve sucker-punched him. “Yeah, sure.” He scrubs a hand across his forehead. “I can guess how you’ve protected me these past twelve years. I couldn’t have lived the life I’ve lived with my family otherwise.”
He has no fucking clue...
Morning has come. The tubes have been removed from my arms, but the nurses left the one in my chest that’s acting like a drain. They’ve given me painkillers and I even managed to eat a little breakfast before doing the breathing exercises they taught me.
After his sleepless night in the hospital armchair, Daniel has already departed to return to Colorado. His words to me about this not being a suitable life for my son woke up my conscience, however. There’s a tightening in my throat as I think about what I need to do.
Eva phoned a short while ago; she told me she’ll come visit as soon as her mother arrives at the house to look after our son. I hate lying here, in physical pain and feeling as helpless as a newborn baby. But I hate even more how much my soul is hurting. I don’t like the person I’ve become; I’ve never liked him. I want to be someone different for Kir and Eva.
She pushes open the door and walks toward my bed, looking so goddamn beautiful with her long, glossy dark hair loose over her shoulders. My kitten. My Elousha. My love. This girl is everything; I don’t deserve her.
She kisses me then asks, “How are you feeling?”
My mouth twists. “Happy to be alive.”
She brushes the hair back from my forehead and plants a kiss there. “I was so scared. I thought I was going to lose you.”
“It would take more than a slug in the torso,” I quip. “Is Kir okay?”
“He’s too young to worry, thank God.” She pulls up a chair, sits and takes my hand. “You saved my life by standing in front of me and taking that bullet. It was all my stupid fault.”
Tears stream from her eyes; they’re fucking killing me. “How can it have been your fault?”
Her shoulders hunch and, between sobs, she gives a garbled account of how she’d gone to fetch my gun instead of calling me straight away.
I squeeze her fingers, “Shush, Kiska. None of this is your fault. If anything, it’s my fault for buying you from your father and involving you and Kir in the shitstorm of my life.”
She rubs at the tears on her cheeks. “So many dead bodies.” She shakes her head. “People, Gleb. People who lived and loved and had families. Dispatched like they weren’t even human.”
I groan. “I never wanted it to happen.”
“Well, it did happen,” she says quietly. “And I don’t know if I want our son to be exposed to the eventuality of something like that happening again. I’m not cut out to be a Vor’s woman, Gleb.”
I let out a strangled breath. “I don’t want it either. I love you and my boy too much.”
She folds her arms and looks me in the eye. “What are you implying?”
I stare back at her. “I no longer own you, Elousha. I’m setting you free to live your life as it should be lived.”
She lifts her chin. “Who’ll take care of you?” Her golden irises flare. “And how can you suddenly decide it’s over for us?”
She opens her mouth to continue, but I interrupt her. “I want us to be together permanently, want us to be a family.” A muscle clenches on my jawline. “Can you be patient and give me time?”
“Time? I don’t understand.” She tilts her head slightly and knuckles another tear from her cheek. “God, Gleb, I thought you were breaking up with me.”
“I just need to attend to some business. Find out what Natasha was involved in.” I search Eva’s eyes.
“Do you think she was the woman you met at Harvard?” she comes straight out with it.
I make a hmmm noise in my throat. “She might be. Or she might be who she said she was.”
“I still don’t understand why we can’t live together in the interim.”
“I want to draw attention away from you and Kir while I search for the truth.” My tone is placating. “I also want to wind up some of my businesses.” I catch the startled look in her expression. “I don’t know how long everything will take, but I swear to you I’ll do all I can to go legit.”
“You’ll do that for me?” A smile dances across her face.
“I’d do anything for you, my love. And my boy.” If my chest wasn’t attached to a fucking drainage tube, I’d crush her to me.
Her eyes narrow, as if in confusion. “Where will we live?”
“I have a safe house, a place not linked to me. I want you and Kir to move there as soon as possible. I think you’ll like it. I’ll stay in my old place until I’ve gotten to the bottom of things and can absolutely guarantee one hundred percent that when I come back into yours and Kir’s lives you won’t be subjected to anything like what just happened.”
She frowns, pulling in and slowly releasing a deep breath. “Will you be okay? I mean, I’ll worry about you.”
“Not half as much as I’d worry about you if you weren’t living out of harm’s way.”
“We’ll miss you,” she reaches for my hand, her tears splashing onto my fingers.
“I’ll miss you too, Elousha. You and Kir,” I choke on a sigh. “I’ll miss you so fucking much.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Eva
“I like this house.” Mama picks Kir up from the gleaming hardwood floor in the living room and gives him a big, smacking kiss on the cheek. “It’s like a smaller version of Gleb’s.”
“He chose well for us,” I hear the sadness vibrating in my voice, “he must have found it after we’d gotten back from Colorado during that time when I hardly saw him.”
Mama shifts Kir to her hip and rubs my shoulder with her free hand. “I feel for you, my dear. I know how much you miss him.”
“I haven’t seen him since Dmitry’s funeral last week,” I groan, “living without him is agony.” And it’s true. Waking up alone, going to bed alone, missing him every second. He’d looked thin when I saw him, his high cheekbones even more prominent; I’d wanted to hold him close and never let him go.
“I’ll come visit as soon as I can,” he’d whispered, lowering his face by my ear as we’d said goodbye. “It will have to be under cover of darkness. I’ll let you know beforehand.”
Kir and I moved into this place a month ago, twenty-four hours before Gleb left the hospital two weeks after he’d been shot. I’d visited him each morning when I was still living in Fairwood. My vision suddenly blurs; I so wish I could have still been there to welcome him home and take care of him while he recuperated. Olga is doing that; she’s stayed on as his housekeeper. She said she didn’t want to leave, even after a fire destroyed the kitchen and all evidence of the shoot-out. Gleb gave her free reign in choosing a new design, Mama told me after it had happened. I knew already, he’d asked for my input and I’d pleaded with him to let Olga decide. Dimitry had died trying to protect me, and I probably owe him Kir’s and my life.
I buckle Kir into his stroller while Mama fetches our coats. This house is in a peaceful town a bus ride from Fairwood. Mama comes most mornings to help with Kir while I clean and tidy up. Then either we go shopping or to the park.
We exit the front door; I stare up at the house and my mouth droops. Set back on a quiet tree-lined street with a spacious full-fenced back yard, it’s unassuming enough. The facade is painted white and there are three bedrooms upstairs together with the main bathroom. There’s another bathroom in the basement next to the laundry room. The wood-burning fireplace in the living room, and the attached family room with all-around windows, would have enticed me to pick this place for myself and Kir if I’d had the choice. Except, it doesn’t feel like home.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
Strolling alongside Mama, I hug my coat around my body. Fall has well and truly arrived. The nights have drawn in and the days are g
etting colder. Time is passing, and my baby is growing; he’s curious about everything and keen to play and explore. He’s so active; he’s even started running and I love how he keeps giving me cuddles and kisses. Problem is, I seem to be living my life in limbo while I wait for Gleb to tell me when we can be a proper family. I pull out my phone and check for a message from him.
Nothing.
I’m impatient and it’s driving me crazy.
“How’s Papa?” I ask Mama to distract myself. “How is the dance studio doing?”
“He misses you, my dear. But he’s working really hard. The investment Gleb made in the business, paying for proper advertising and a re-fit, has made all the difference.” Mama’s eyes glow. “Papa has so many new students he’ll soon have to take on more staff.”
“Awesome,” I say. “And you? Have you gotten over the trauma of what happened at Gleb’s?”
She stops pushing Kir’s stroller and turns to face me, opening her arms and hugging me. “It was all Vadim’s fault. He was a monster and I’m glad he’s gone. I’m only sorry Olga had to lose Dmitry. He was a good man.”
My heart aching, I agree with her. We carry on with our stroll and soon we arrive at the park.
“Wanna walk,” Kir calls out.
“Say, please, sinochek.”
“Wanna walk please,” he whines, and I bend to unbuckle him.
Autumn leaves whirl in the air, and he chases after them, laughing. I laugh with him and so does Mama. It feels good not to be watched over by a boyevik day and night. At first, I was still terrified, frightened of my own shadow, and even now I keep a lookout for any danger... I can’t help it. But Gleb wouldn’t let Kir and me live here on our own if he wasn’t confident we’d be okay.
He’s deliberately kept away from us. Mama is careful and makes sure she isn’t followed. We shouldn’t be a target.
I look over my shoulder, just to be sure, and blow out a relieved breath; there are only a few people around and none of them appear suspicious. Except, how would I know what counts as suspicious? I cross my arms tightly over my chest.
A large bird swoops down from the tree above us, and I nearly jump out of my skin. Jesus, will there be no end to this paranoia?
The phone vibrates in the pocket of my jeans.
I reach for it.
Gleb.
I’ll be with you at around eight this evening, he messages, and my heart freaking leaps.
A wide grin spreads across my face.
“Good news?” Mama winks.
I hug her. “The best.”
Kir has taken forever to settle; he must have picked up on my excitement. Eventually, he fell asleep and I’ve had a bath, shaving every inch of my body before washing and drying my hair. I’m waiting in the living room by the crackling log fire, memories of the first time Gleb and I made love sending my pulse racing. He’d made me beg for him, and I’d swallowed my pride and had done so. I knew then it was doubtful our story would have a happily-ever-after ending. Can I let myself hope for one now?
The doorbell chimes. “Kiska?” Gleb’s baritone voice gives me tickles inside; I open the door to him.
I’m enveloped in his strong arms, his nose pressing on the top of my head as he breathes me in. He tilts my chin up and melds his mouth to mine. My breath catches, and I slide my tongue along his bottom lip, feeling him harden against my belly. I arch up on the tips of my toes, kissing him deeper.
“God, Elousha. Ya lyublyu tebya. Ya skuchal po tebe,” he groans.
“I love you and I’ve missed you too, Gleb.” My arms loop around his neck as he pulls me against him.
Our heads switch sides, our tongues dancing, our lips sliding. The chemistry burning between us crackles like electricity.
We cling to each other, breathless, stumbling then stabilizing. My hands clutch at his hair, tugging; his fingernails dig into my hips, yanking me closer.
He sucks my tongue, biting down as I fuse my leg to his, wedging myself against his hardness.
I want to crawl into him.
He grips me tighter, marching me backwards, kissing me until my spine presses against the wall. He thrusts his pelvis and my teeth nip at his mouth, my tongue desperate for more.
Our kiss has become frantic and so fucking hot. Except, without warning, he breaks away and holds me at arm’s length.
“Can I see Kir?” he rasps.
“Of course,” I smile at his impatience, take his hand and lead him upstairs.
We stand by our son’s bed, watching him sleep, his little chest rising and falling with each breath, my old teddy at his side.
Gleb bends and kisses his forehead, then pulls the comforter up to tuck it under his chin.
“We need to talk, Elousha,” he whispers.
I take down to the living room, offer him something to drink... which he declines. “How are you feeling?” I sit next to him on the sofa and trace my finger down his sunken cheek.
“All the better for seeing you.” He threads his fingers through mine and plants a kiss on the inside of my wrist. “It will take up to a year for me to be fully recovered, but Dr. Hughes says I’m making excellent progress.”
I cuddle into him, my heart filling with relief and absolute unconditional love. “That’s good.” I snuggle deeper. “What have you been doing since you got out of hospital?”
“Clearing up the mess left by Vadim.” Gleb plays with my hair. “Yuri has carried out most of the work as I’m not physically up to it yet. There’s still a lot that needs to be done. The Feds have been sniffing around as well.”
“God, I hope that won’t mean trouble for you,” I gasp.
He places a finger under my chin, lifting my face so he can stare hard into my eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ve bribed the right people.” Gleb seems to be choosing his words carefully. “I’m going to Moscow next week,” he adds.
“Why?” My insides flutter. “Won’t that be dangerous?”
“I’m meeting my friend, the one I told you about. He can’t talk to me over the phone; I need to speak with him in person.” Gleb’s tone is serious. “I think he might be able to shed some light on Natasha.”
Sudden dread grips me. “I don’t want you to go. They murder people in Russia, no questions asked.”
“Only way I can get guarantees you and my boy will be safe.” Gleb holds my arms and heat drenches his eyes, turning the dark blue into electric indigo. “I’d kill myself to protect you.”
Hot tears wet my cheeks. “Please, don’t let that happen.”
He snorts out a bitter laugh. “I’ll try not to, but, seriously, you and Kir are the most important people in my life. I’ve been working hard to sort out a future for us.”
“What kind of future?”
“I’m thinking of relocating to Colorado after I’ve wound up my businesses in Fairwood.” He strokes my arm. “I wanted to run it by you first.” Before I can say a word, he adds, “I’ll set your parents up in Denver. I know you wouldn’t want to separate Kir from them.”
I grasp the sides of his beard and kiss him, hard. “Will it be safe there?” I tilt my head.
“I’ll make damn sure that it is,” he growls, pulling me toward him and kissing away my tears. “You, me and Kir belong together, end of story.”
I lift his sweater and run my hands up his strong stomach muscles to trace the line of the scar from his wound. I lower my head and kiss it, the ridges hard against the softness of my lips. I was convinced it was getting shot that made Gleb take the sudden decision to leave organized crime, but now I can finally let myself believe his feelings for Kir and me have played the major part. “I love you,” I whisper against his warm skin. “Don’t you dare get yourself killed in Russia.”
“I said I’d try not to,” his voice rumbles through his chest.
I look up at him.
This man.
This incredible man.
No longer the Beast, but my soulmate.
Prepared to give up the Vory life for me an
d our son.
“Make love to me, Gleb.”
And he does.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Gleb
The Aeroflot flight from JFK to Moscow’s Sheremetyevo International Airport will take just over nine hours. I didn’t want to draw attention to my visit, so I’ve decided to not to charter a private jet. It’s strange hearing my mother tongue being spoken by the cabin crew and listening to the captain’s announcements in Russian. A foretaste of my imminent arrival in the country of my birth, but it doesn’t sit well with me. With a shudder I remember my father once said, “In Russia they kill you,” words I repeated to my brother twelve years ago and echoed by Eva last week. I run a hand through my hair.
Yuri and I are traveling business; we took the last flight of the day... so we could get some shuteye... which is what we do after we’ve eaten dinner. Or at least Yuri does: he’s snoring in the seat next to me as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, but I’m carrying too many burdens from the past to drop off to sleep that easily.
I remember when I arrived in the U.S., not long after my parents and Daniel’s first wife were murdered, I established myself in the Russian enclave of Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, also known as ‘Little Odessa’. Using the cash that I inherited from Papa, and contacts I’d made, I set up a cigarette smuggling operation and soon became involved in helping to run an illegal gambling establishment. I got out of there just in time, following a tip-off that someone had grassed to the Feds.
That tip-off came from Roman. He warned me investigators were getting close to identifying me; he also told me that the Boss of all the Vory, our so-called godfather, wanted me to move to Fairwood and divide the turf with Vadim. I didn’t argue and neither did Vadim; when the Boss of Bosses gives orders, everyone jumps to obey. Life settled down after that, more or less, until Vadim started rocking the boat and Natasha showed up.
I squirm in my seat, trying to get comfortable. I catch sight of a tall, blonde flight attendant sashaying down the aisle of the airplane. She bends and gives me ‘the eye’. “Can I get you anything, sir?”