And as for the only somewhat reassuring email she sent us, the ISP she’d used to write it had been completely untraceable. In Vlad’s words, “The kind of thing prepper crackpots set up to make sure they stay off the grid.”
If that wasn’t weird enough, when one of Vlad’s “associates” based in Atlanta tried to check in on her boyfriend to ask him a few questions, he reported back that Tommy had asked for a month of leave from work. The small house he’d shared with Gina was empty, and none of his friends knew where he’d gone.
So now we were even more confused than we were when we first began seriously looking for her.
“Maybe she’ll get in contact again,” Cynda says hopefully.
“Yeah, maybe…” I agree, trying to keep my tone as light and hopeful as hers. “I just want to know she’s alright.”
“Me too,” Cynda agrees.
“Is that Cynda?” Cheslav’s voice suddenly booms on the other side of the bedroom door I closed to make this call. Then he says, “You said you don’t like when I spy. So now I am announcing I am here standing outside door.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or congratulate him for the minor progress in learning to respect my privacy. “Yes, Cheslav, it’s Cynda.”
“Good. You will open door, so I can meet her.”
“Yes! Open the door!” Cynda says on my FaceTime. “I’m more than ready to meet your mysterious Russian.”
With a sigh, I open the door and stand up, prepared to finally make this introduction.
But Cheslav snatches the phone from me before I can. “Hello, Cynda. This is Cheslav. Everyone calls me Chess. Except your friend. She is only exception.”
“Billie can be stubborn,” Cynda agrees. “Do you actually play chess? My little brother was the state chess champion, two years running.”
“I do play. Bring him to second wedding we are having when it’s safe. I will be nice guy and let him win once before crushing him.”
“Okay,” Cynda agrees with a laugh. “But tell me more about this second wedding. My boyfriend and me are dying to make vacation plans.”
“Wait, did you say boyfriend?” I demand around Cheslav’s broad shoulder.
“I thought you did not do boyfriends!” Cheslav says, sounding equally surprised. I guess he really does listen to and remember every word I say.
Cynda glares at me through the phone. “You’ve been talking about me?”
I wince, but Cheslav is not at all apologetic. “Cynda. We are in quarantine. What else is there to do but make puzzle, board game, and gossip?”
“Have you tried watching TV?” Cynda shoots back.
“Da, and we have watched it all. Now back to this boyfriend Billie and I will be discussing for many days over our puzzle.”
By the time we get off the phone, we’re all laughing. And as it turns out, Cheslav was right to dig.
Cynda really is claiming a boyfriend for the first time in the history of my knowing her. And who he is turns out to be is even more surprising than my Russian hockey player.
“But we’re not quite to the marriage point yet,” she tells us.
“Mm-hmm…” I answer next to Cheslav, not bothering to hide my skeptical tone.
Cynda’s finally slowed down enough to let someone catch her, and I have a feeling Cheslav and I won’t be the only ones planning a much bigger second wedding for 2021.
Chapter Twenty-One
The day after our Cynda’s call, Cheslav and I make our relationship Instagram official with a sped-up clip of our Just Dance routine to “Taki Taki,” which ends with us laughing and kissing at the end. I don’t do anything to draw attention to it, but of course, everyone who sees the post notices the big fat diamond now gracing my wedding ring finger.
My phone immediately starts blowing up. Local news sites looking for a story, a few of my co-workers, and friends who haven’t been in touch in years but suddenly felt the need to reconnect when they saw my Instagram post. I ignore all the calls and texts, but while I’m eating lunch with Cheslav, my phone lights up with a name that makes me frown.
“Who is it?” Cheslav asks across from me.
“My brother,” I answer. There’s a strange feeling inside my chest. Like a piece of rope being tugged at from both ends.
Cheslav goes very still. “Do you plan to answer it?”
I think about his question. Then think about my mother only worrying about my brother even as she was dying herself.
I wait for the usual guilt to jog me out of my paralysis and motivate me to pick up the phone.
But it doesn’t.
Instead, the memory of her last moments unfurls inside my head, clear as a movie clip.
I’m in the hospice center, holding my mom’s hand. And this time, I remember everything that came before her “no matter what.”
I don’t realize tears have begun to drop from my eyes until Cheslav is suddenly there beside my chair, his face worried as he asks, “Billie? Billie? What’s wrong?”
I’ve waited so long; the phone has stopped ringing.
And I blink back tears to answer. “My brother…he never showed up at the hospice to say goodbye. He called crying thirty minutes after he was supposed to be there, saying he couldn’t do it. And I had to tell my mom. And you know what she told me?”
Cheslav takes my hand and presses it to his face like he’s trying to do a skin-to-skin transfer of strength. “What did she tell you, krasotka?”
“She said, ‘He’s not as strong as you, Billie. That’s why you’ve got to take care of him…no matter what.”
As if to punctuate my memory, my phone abruptly starts ringing again. It’s Clem, trying to get through a second time.
He does this when he’s in a crisis. Calls and calls until I pick up.
Usually, it’s not necessary. Usually, I drop everything and pick up as soon as I see it’s him.
But he hasn’t called me since moving out of my place.
Hasn’t so much as texted to check in after he left me alone with the man he owed money.
“Clem is my blood,” I realize out loud to Cheslav. “But that doesn’t mean we’re family.”
I pick up the phone and send the call straight to voicemail. Then, before Clem can call me back, I block his number.
I know some people would call me cruel for not even telling Clem how I feel before blocking him. But those people probably don’t understand the fundamental truth I just got hit with.
“Family goes both ways,” I explain to Cheslav, putting the phone down. “And if you have to tell somebody that, they’re probably never going to get it.”
Cheslav looks at me for the longest time. He seems conflicted by what I’ve just said. That’s because he comes from a strong, close-knit family. One that works to ensure that each and every one of its members are taken care of. I’m sure he’s having a hard time reconciling me just cutting my brother off when he talks to his every day.
Which is why it comes as a surprise when instead of judging me, he says, “Billie, I am not your brother. I am not just using you. I love you. I love you more than anything. You understand this, da?”
I know….
I know it’s better to make decisions based on data, not emotion. I know it’s better to keep a level head, especially when it comes to starting a family with an athlete you only met a few weeks ago.
But my heart rises like the sun at his words. And tears spring to my eyes.
These have nothing to do with sadness, only the words I’m going to say next.
“Thanks for loving me,” I whisper. Then I take a deep breath and confess, “I love you too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
We seal our declaration with a whole lot of lovemaking that night. And I fall asleep feeling oh so secure in my loving Russian’s arms.
Which is why I’m confused when I wake up to the sound of a voice yelling, “Billie! Billie! You up there! Billie! Answer me! It’s Clem!”
Clem?
I scramble
out of bed and pull on a robe before throwing open the bedroom window. And sure enough, there’s my brother standing below. The ocean is still and calm tonight, or I probably wouldn’t have been able to hear him.
Almost as soon as I catch sight of him, Vlad appears, wearing both a robe and a mask. His arms are pointed straight out, and his hands clasped around something. I can’t see what it is, but a gun is a good guess, given the situation.
“No, don’t hurt him!” I yell down to Vlad.
Vlad freezes and looks up at me. The planes of his face appear especially craggy and severe in the mix of moon and security system lights.
“I’ll be right down,” I yell, really hoping this doesn’t escalate before I make it out to them.
But when I turn to go, I crash into Cheslav’s chest.
Strange, for such a big guy, I didn’t even realize he was behind me.
“Clem is here,” I explain. “He’s not used to me not answering immediately when he calls. I’ll go explain things to him and send him away.”
With that explanation, I start to go, but Cheslav catches my arm. “Let Vlad take care of him…please.”
“You mean the guy with the gun who’s only a few steps away from old school Russian mafia? I don’t think so,” I answer, my voice harsh.
Cheslav sneers. “I am also, as you say, only few steps from old Russian mafia. And I am trying to protect you, the woman I love.”
His words soften my stance, but not my resolve. “Look, I know Clem just showing up here like this looks crazy, but he’s harmless. I promise. Come with me if you want.”
Cheslav hesitates. But then he lets go of my arm.
He looks so sad for some reason, and I want to reassure him. But I’ve already spent a lot of precious time on this conversation, and I don’t want the situation between Clem and Vlad to get out of hand. I’m pissed at my brother, but in no way do I want him to end up another Black male statistic of needless gun violence.
Fortunately, Clem and Vlad are still in their standoff and at least six feet apart from each other, when I get downstairs.
“You can’t keep me from seeing her,” Clem is yelling at the older Russian man. “You know what he’s doing ain’t right!”
“Clem!” I shout, careful to stand more than six feet away. I can’t be sure what kind of social distancing Clem has been practicing. And pregnant as I am, I can’t risk getting any closer.
“What are you doing here in the middle of the night?” I demand from the veranda.
Clem turns on me, his face furious as if this whole situation is somehow my fault. “It took me this long to figure out where he was keeping you.”
“He’s not keeping me,” I answer. “I’m living here with him. We’re engaged and planning to get married.”
“Yeah, I heard! It’s all over Instagram. I got all kinds of folks calling me, but I didn’t know how to answer them because I was the last to know!”
I let out a breath, both annoyed and not shocked at all that Clem’s making this all about himself. “Well, now you know. So can you please leave now?”
Clem flinches. Probably because I’ve never used a dismissive tone with him before, but then he glares and says, “Naw, naw. That wasn’t part of the deal. It was just supposed to be for a few days. That’s what he said.”
I open my mouth to tell him to go again, only to stop when the potential meaning of his words drops down like an IRS levy. “What do you mean that wasn’t part of the deal?”
“I don’t know. What do I mean?” Clem’s angry gaze switches from me to something over my left shoulder.
Or someone.
Someone who says to Clem, “Think very carefully about what you say next.”
“Or what?” Clem asks Cheslav, drawing himself to his full football height. “She’s not going to let your boy shoot me.”
No, I wasn’t, but… “What did you mean by ‘the deal.’”
Again Clem looks to Cheslav.
And suddenly he doesn’t have to tell me what he meant. Suddenly, it’s very, very clear. Oh my God….
The ocean is no longer still and placid behind my brother. It’s now inside my head, crashing with the realization. “You didn’t owe him money. You two planned this.”
I know I’m right when Cheslav, who’s never failed to look me straight in the eye before averts his gaze.
“Krasotka…” he starts.
At the same time, Clem calls out, “It was all his idea, sis! He knew I was desperate for some dollars, and he’s the one who took advantage.”
“How much?” I ask, looking at Clem over my shoulder. “How much did it cost for you to agree to whore your sister out?”
I guess my brother must have a tiny kernel of shame inside his body. He shakes his head, refusing to answer.
But Cheslav says, “Fifty thousand dollars.”
The number hits me like a punch to the chest.
“But you were smart enough to lie about that,” I guess, turning back to Cheslav. “You made it a number I couldn’t possibly hope to pay back in under a month.”
Cheslav jerks like I’ve slapped him. But he nods, confirming my guess.
And then there’s only one question left. “Why?”
“I…” Cheslav looks at the roof of the veranda. Then the sand. Then finally back at me. “I saw you, and I fell for you. I told you truth about that. But the thing is, you didn’t see me. I was in the box seats for last Carolina Bobcats game of the decade when they brought all ten of 2010s Princess South Carolinas out. There were ten women on stage, but the only princess I saw was you.
“At halftime, I went to find you, and you were with your brother. He was telling you about all the guys on his team who wanted to hook up with you now that you were no longer cheerleader, and it wasn’t against the rules. You reminded him about how you don’t date athletes…”
Cheslav grimaces like the memory still pains him somehow. “I knew then it would be impossible to get you to give me a chance without some finessing. But Rustanovs do not give up, and we are very good at coming up with schemes to get what we want. So I made deal with your brother. I thought few days would be enough. It wasn’t. The small ember inside me from the first moment I saw you… it became fire. And I had to find you again. Convince you to be with me.”
“So you planned this from start to finish,” I say when he falls quiet. “And I’d believed every moment of our supposed romance. I went against every practical instinct I had to convince myself what we had was real. But it wasn’t. It was all a pile of lies.”
Cheslav reacts like my words are whips hitting him over and over again. “It wasn’t a pile of lies. At least not for me.”
I don’t let him finish. I already know that any explanation he could give me will only make me feel more stupid.
“Fifty-thousand,” I say, my voice hard and cynical. “That wasn’t enough to buy his silence. He’s probably already blown through it.”
“Yes, he has,” Cheslav answers with a disgusted sneer. “He also tried to call me through Vlad to see if I was interested in purchasing his lifelong silence for a much larger sum. I told him, no. And now he is here.”
It feels like I’m drinking poison as I take in Cheslav’s confession. Then I turn to my brother. My horrible, despicable brother. “That’s why you’re here, right? Because you wanted more?”
Solid hit. Clem rears back, then does what he always does when he feels attacked. Lashes out and blames all the consequences of his own actions on someone else. “If you had just let me have my money like I told you to.”
“I was keeping that money to backpay your child support, you damn narcissist. And guess what, even if I wasn’t, that’s still not a good enough reason to lie and use me. You used my love for you, knowing I would do anything for you. And in my blind need to protect you, I walked right into your trap! You are nothing but a user who doesn’t care about anybody but himself.”
Clem flinches at my words, but then he screws up his face, his exp
ression becoming ugly and defensive. “It was only supposed to be for a few days, but you still here. So I guess you were okay with being this White dude’s whore. I had a feeling. Way you talk. Way you act. Like you so much better than all my boys who tried to holler at you—”
Cheslav is moving forward before I even have the chance to respond.
He grabs my brother by the neck and delivers a single punch to his face before he can say another word. “You think you can talk to her like that? I will knock out all your teeth before I let another bad word toward her come out of your mouth. You are scumbag, not worthy of sister whose heart is breaking right now. Say you are sorry to her, or I will break every bone in your face.”
As tough as Clem was acting just a few moments ago, he immediately caves when Cheslav raises his fist to punch him again.
“Okay, okay, sorry, sis!” he yells, his words muffled due to his bleeding nose.
“Let him go,” I scream at Cheslav. “Let him go right now! You think the way to solve this is with White on Black violence. In the south?”
Cheslav lets go of my brother and dips his head. “I am sorry, krasotka. I was only trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need you to protect me!” I yell back at him. “I don’t need you going around punching people who you embroiled in your…what did you call it? Scheme! I was doing just fine on my own before you came along and filled my head with all this BS, claiming you were in love with me.”
“It is no claim,” he says. “I love you. I want nothing more than to marry you and be father to our baby.”
“Wait, you’re pregnant?” Clem asks, still cupping his bleeding nose.
I don’t answer, just start walking back toward the house.
“Where are you going?” both Cheslav and Clem ask at the same time.
They don’t deserve an answer. I disappear into the house without another word.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Inside the house, I grab my phone, throw a few things in a bag. But when I went downstairs to meet a driver with a friendly looking profile pic named Jim, Vlad’s standing at the front door.
Billie and the Russian Beast: An Enemies to Lovers Russian Hockey Player Sports Romance [50 Loving States, South Carolina] (QUARANTALES Book 2) Page 10