by Nicole Fox
“Soon?”
I pretend to not hear her, getting into my truck. As I start the truck, I look at her through the windshield. She dribbles the ball a couple of feet before picking it up. She looks over at me and waves. I wave back.
I pull out, driving west. It’s disconcerting how attached I feel toward Lily. I barely know her. I know her even less than Cassandra. But the thought of her waiting for me to return hurts a lot more than it should. I could excuse it as empathy, but I never hoped for a foster parent to take me. I never wanted to depend on anyone after my parents died and after the line of bad foster parents.
But I almost feel dependent on Cassandra and Lily—which only feels detrimental and fucked up when I’m not around them. And when I’m with them, the emotional high is enough that I don’t mind being powerless.
I fucked up when I pulled Cassandra and Lily into my negotiations with Gianluigi. In my fear of dependency, I treated them both like they were disposable. I fucked up again when I forced my guilt onto Cassandra. I forced her to marry me. I forced her to face the worst of me because I couldn’t handle it on my own. And I sent her away, just to drive home the idea that she’s disposable.
For all my power I’ve gained over strategizing, my best tactics lost the only thing that truly matters. I deserved to lose her.
Natalie’s headstone stands taller than any of the other headstones around it. When I bought it, I told myself it was a pillar of my love for her—nothing less than the best for my dead wife. But under all the bullshit and pretense, I knew it would become a symbol of what I’d do to avenge her murder. It’s a pillar of hatred, built over an innocent woman’s grave.
With whiskey warming up my veins and scattering my thoughts, I shouldn’t have driven here. “Nat,” I say, her name tasting unfamiliar on my tongue. “It’s been a bit of time. Sorry about that. It’s nothing personal. Nothing truly was personal between us.”
I touch the engraving of the chamomile flowers in her headstone. I should have given her something living instead of something cold. I’ve found that temporary can be better than eternal.
“Nat,” I repeat, louder now, like she’s going to hear me through six feet of dirt. “I got remarried. It’s fake. It’s not real. But it’s more real than what we had. Because our marriage was a sham. It was just a piece of paper. You were an idea and I was absent.”
I grab one of the flower petals on the headstone, trying to break it off, but it doesn’t budge.
“I knew better.” I fold my hand into a fist, hitting it against the top of the headstone. “I knew I didn’t feel that strongly about you. I just saw someone I wanted to possess. And Cassie started the same way. She was Gianluigi’s crown jewel and I wanted to take ownership. But it’s different from you. My relationship with Cassandra is so full of life. You were beautiful and you were good, but our relationship wasn’t either of those things. I realized the moment I saw Cassandra that what we had wasn’t real. I was just so determined to get revenge that I couldn’t see the truth with her.”
I turn away from her headstone. The city is getting louder, the insistent honking, the distant sound of a jackhammer rattling, the booming bass of a car passing by. I walk down the road that winds through the cemetery, leaving all my confessions and my worst secrets with my late wife. As I pass through the parking lot, I stop in the place that Ravil was killed. I walk up to the parking spot and crouch down to look at where the explosion scorched the asphalt.
There’s a tiny piece of metal, mangled near the white parking lines. I pick it up. There’s a smaller piece beside it. Remnants of the destroyed parts of the car. Any evidence of his blood has washed away, but this piece of the car remains—the permanency of what we build stands unmoved, but our bodies vanish easily.
Ravil was a good man. I should have been a better leader for him. If I’d been a better man, he’d still be around.
I drop the piece of metal. When I get into my truck, slamming the door shut, it cuts me off from the city’s noise. I start driving, intending to get farther away from the cemetery and closer to the chaos of the city, but it doesn’t bring tranquility. As I drive, I let the rage guide me.
I should carry plenty of blame, but Gianluigi killed Natalie and Ravil. He’s the one who tricked me and had Cassandra on the conference call. He’s the one who keeps killing my Bratva brothers.
I grit my teeth. I run through the dozens of scenarios where I have Gianluigi’s life in my hands and I crush it into a million pieces.
I get on the phone.
“Boss,” Nail answers. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going to retaliate,” I say. “They won’t be expecting a counterattack so soon. Their storehouse on Amity Street always has some men around. We’ll take them out, get the high ground, and wipe out their reinforcements.”
“I’ll get our men. When do you want to do this?”
“Now. I’m going to be there in less than fifteen minutes.”
There’s a short pause. “I’ll arrange it. How many men do you want?”
“At least fifteen, preferably twenty.”
“Some of them are at a memorial—”
“Tell them to put their mourning to good use,” I cut him off.
“Yes, boss. I’ll get right on it.”
I hang up and stomp down on the gas pedal. Violence will help me forget the wreckage I’ve made. Once I’ve taken back all the power Gianluigi stole from me, I have some hope of moving on without carrying all of this weight.
20
Cassandra
Talking to Sarah Ray about Jenny planted the smallest idea in my mind. Jenny’s teenage disappearing acts usually wouldn’t have been possible for her as a sixteen- and seventeen-year-old. But she was the daughter of a wealthy, distant father and a wealthy workaholic mother. During her more rebellious years, she figured out how to get cars without a paper trail. She learned how to run away without her parents being able to find her for months. She also had a habit of stashing cash, which could be useful to me now.
My father thought she was a bad influence and he was right, but she wasn’t malicious. She just liked to reinvent herself into someone who didn’t mind that her parents were never around and couldn’t be bothered with raising or nurturing a child.
“I was surprised you called,” Jenny says. Her apartment is smaller than I thought it would be, but it’s filled with expensive furniture and decorations. Jenny sits on an upholstered brown leather chair, her head resting on her hand as she gazes at me. She’s cut her honey-blonde hair into a pixie cut, which fits with her angular face.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I had a lot going on in my life.”
She waves my apology away. “Not because of that. I understand that. What I don’t understand is how you have time to visit after your article about the Akimov Bratva blew up.”
I flush. “I didn’t know you’d read it.”
“Everyone has read it, Cass,” she says. “I thought you’d be overwhelmed by people trying to pry more information out of you.”
“My life wasn’t that much different after the first two weeks. Tom—my boss—was a little worried I’d get murdered by the Bratva, but I knew I wouldn’t.” I lean forward, opening the box of doughnuts I brought over. “Go ahead. Take one.”
She cracks a small smile and steeples her hands in front of her. “Let’s be honest. You didn’t try to negotiate a meeting with me just to eat Chip’s Doughnuts and sip on cappuccinos. So … are you less certain than you’re claiming that you aren’t going to get whacked by the Bratva? You need to disappear?”
“I don’t think the Bratva uses the term ‘whacked,’” I say with a grim smile. “No, not exactly. But I do need to disappear. And not just me.”
“Are you taking a boyfriend?”
“No. A child,” I say.
She pauses and glances down my body. “I never saw you as the type to have kids, but I could see you being good at it. Why didn’t you bring them over?”
“Tha
t’s the problem,” I say. “It’s a long story, but she’s in foster care right now.”
Jenny leans forward, carefully scrutinizing the doughnut selection. I know she’s trying not to show her surprise over how much of a complex situation I’ve dropped in her lap, but I don’t have a choice. If Maksim wants me to get out of the city, I know better than to test his patience, but I’m not going to leave without my daughter. No one is going to take Lily from me again.
“Cass,” she says. “You helped me out of a couple of jails, a few bad boyfriends, arguments with my mother … I owe you a lot. I do. But—”
“I’m not asking you to do this just out of a sense of reciprocation,” I say. I take a sip from my cappuccino. “I’ll find a way to pay you back. You know my word is good.”
“I’m not worried about the cost,” she says. “I’m worried about you taking a child out from under the supervision of the government. If you go alone, I can give you a good chance that not even the Bratva will find you. If you take a child—especially one that is under the guardianship of the government—your chances sharply decrease. I’d say you’re guaranteed to be found. And that’s not even considering what you’d be putting the child through.”
“She’s in foster care,” I say. “She shares a house with eight kids. I could do so much better for her. Even if we lived in a motel or something like that, she’d have more of her own space and I’d give her all my attention. You know what it’s like to be ignored, Jenny.”
Jenny picks out a chocolate-frosted doughnut. She takes a small bite out of it. “I know your heart is in the right place, Cass. You acted like a mother to me. I know you’d be a great one. I just need to forewarn you that I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I get it,” I say. “But I’m going to do it anyway.”
She grimaces. “I’ll make some calls.”
I park a street away from Lily’s foster home, so if someone is questioned about her disappearance, there won’t be a dozen witnesses talking about my car. As I walk toward the house, I keep an eye out for anyone suspicious. After I reach their street, it occurs to me that I’m the suspicious one—I’m the criminal, I’m the wife of the Bratva boss, I’m the one preparing to kidnap a child.
My life has skidded off the tracks. It was thrilling for a while, but I’m going to regain control now.
When I take my daughter back, it’s not going to be cloak-and-dagger. I already called the Neals to ask them if I could take Lily out for ice cream. But I’ll skip the ice cream parlor. I’ll just keep driving until we’re out of the city, then keep going.
Lily will ask me where we’re going or why we didn’t stop for ice cream. I’ll begin to explain everything. I’m prepared for her to hate me, but I’m confident she will forgive me. On some level, she will have to understand that I didn’t have a choice and she’s hinted before that she wants Maksim and me to adopt her. She’ll just have to adjust her daydream and eliminate Maksim from it.
I’ll have to do the same.
As I’m nearly to the foster home, I see two men standing in the middle of the sidewalk. It’s not an uncommon sight, but these two are too serious and as I keep approaching, they both turn to look at me. They don’t catcall, they don’t say anything, and they don’t look away.
I don’t recognize either of them, but nearly all of Maksim’s men that I knew are deceased, so it makes sense he’d send new men.
“You can tell Maksim that I’m leaving town,” I say. “I just want to have some ice cream with this girl before I leave.” When I’m less than two feet in front of them, the blond one steps forward, grabbing for my arm. I jerk backward, preventing him from getting his hands on me.
“You’re not going to stop me from seeing her,” I say. He reaches for me again. I hit him as hard as I can, my fist slamming into his jaw. He reels back. I hit him again, hard enough that his body drops to the ground. The other one lurches at me.
In my mind, all I can think is that, if I don’t deal with these men, I’ll never see Lily again.
I jab my fist into the second man’s throat. His hands jump to his neck as he gasps for breath. The blond grabs me by the arm, yanking me closer. As I catch my balance, I raise my foot and stomp down on his knee. He yells, falling. A fist comes out of nowhere. I fall. The taller one grabs me by the neck, his grip tight enough for fear to strike through me.
But I’m not going to continue to let Lily go through life thinking her mother abandoned her without a thought.
I grab onto the man’s head, my thumbs pressing over his eyes. He quickly lets go of my throat and knocks my arms away. As he rubs his eyes, I hit him as hard as I can near his temple. His head snaps to the side, his body dropping on the sidewalk.
I rub my knuckles. My father didn’t believe in teaching self-defense, but he did teach me to hit, which is more helpful than I thought it would be.
The blond slowly pushes himself up onto his feet. He’s favoring his right leg. I don’t want to kill anybody, but even if I can get by him to get to Lily, my car is still a street away. He turns his head, his attention completely diverted. I follow his gaze and I can’t believe what I see.
A man walks toward me holding Lily’s hand.
They weren’t Maksim’s men—they were my father’s.
And he’s here.
As my father and Lily continue to approach, the blond man takes another step closer to me. I take a small step to the side. I can’t keep fighting him—I know what seeing violence can do to a child’s mind and I’m not going to do that to Lily.
When they’re less than ten feet away, Lily excitedly points to my father. “Cassie, this is my grandpa!”
A thousand accusations jump into my head—how dare he take her from her foster home, how dare my father introduce himself to her before I could explain everything to her, how dare he lure a child away by telling her that he’s her grandfather, how dare he call himself her grandfather after what he did?
But I see their hands clasped together and I know I can’t lash out. Not here. Not yet.
“How did you know I was coming here?” I ask my father. He smiles at me, but it’s the smile of a viper—it’s a cold happiness because there’s prey right in front of him.
“You don’t think I keep watch over you?” he asks. “After you visited Jenny, I knew that meant that you were planning on disappearing. And I knew you’d want to take this sweet child with you, so you’d come here.”
“I’m not going to stay here for you,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow. “I wasn’t going to ask you to,” he says. “But you should know—your child is staying here.”
“Her child?” Lily asks. She turns to me. “You have a kid? I’m going to have a sibling?”
“No,” my father cuts in before I can lie. “Cassandra is your mother. I’m her father.”
“What?” Lily’s face scrunches up in confusion. “How is that … I don’t understand.”
My father smiles at her with that snake-like treachery. “She gave you up for adoption.”
“No, I didn’t,” I say, pointing at him aggressively. “He gave you away. I wanted to keep you, Lily. He stole you from me and gave you away. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I tear my eyes away from her because I can’t stand it anymore. I glare at my father.
“Why would you even care whether she comes with me or not?” I demand.
“As I said, I’ve been watching you. And I’ve been watching Lily,” he says. “And I’ve seen a fair number of interesting interactions between Maksim and your daughter. He cares about the kid. He may own you now, but I own Lily, so it’s tit for tat. We both have something the other values.”
“We’re not pawns in your game,” I snarl. I lunge at him. The blond man grabs onto me, yanking me back. The brown-haired thug is on his feet again and grabs my other arm. I still don’t want to fight in front of Lily, but as they start dragging me away from her, I fight against them with every muscle in my body. They keep a tight
grip.
I never learn.
I hear a clicking sound before the two of them pick me up, thrusting me into the trunk of a car. They snap it shut. I scream and bang my fist against the top of the trunk, but all I hear is the car starting and the sound of jazz music blaring through the speakers.
I keep yelling as we drive off. I keep hitting the top of the trunk. I check for an escape release, but it’s been removed.
Lily is in danger as long as she’s a pawn. My only hope is that her innocence will lead her to play along. She’s in the middle of a Mafia war and she has no idea. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have wanted to see her so badly. I should have let her live, blissfully unaware of her heritage.
I should have dealt with my father a long time ago.
After a couple of minutes, the car stops. The trunk pops open. I push it up slowly, prepared to hit one of the men. There’s nobody. I carefully slide my way out of the back of the trunk.
Before my right ankle is completely out of the trunk, the car speeds away. I’m about four or five streets over. By the time I get to my car, my father will be long gone with Lily.
21
Cassandra
I drive through the streets surrounding Lily’s foster home. I wait to see Lily, to see my father, to see the car his soldiers threw me into, but there’s nothing apart from some stay-at-home moms.
I can’t find her on my own. I need help.
Ever since I gave birth to Lily and left my father’s home, self-sufficiency has been a pillar of my identity. If I’m honest with myself, if I’d been willing to accept more help, I could have found Lily before. But I didn’t want to rely on anybody. I didn’t want to admit that I couldn’t take on the world on my own. I wanted to be worthy of Lily and to do that, I thought I needed to face the world without asking for any assistance.
But now I know I need to set aside my pride and get help from the only person with enough resources, enough motive, and enough willpower to take on my father with me.