A Girl Scorned

by Rachel Rust

  “How are you going to get away?” he asked.

  “What? Let go of me!” I pulled my arm back again, but he maintained his grip, tightening his fingers this time.

  “How are you going to get away from me?” He nodded to the door. “If you go out there and someone grabs you, how are you going to get away? How are you going to keep yourself safe? Out there on the street, you’re open prey.” His fingers tightened around my wrist. “How do you get away if someone grabs you?”

  “You’re hurting me, Eddie. Stop!”

  “No.” His fingers didn’t let up. “Get yourself free. What do you do if someone grabs you?”

  “Kick him in the junk.”

  “What if it’s a woman?”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “That would still hurt.”

  “Doesn’t matter, there’s no time for kicking, and that’d only piss them off more.”

  “I scream for help.”

  He shook his head. “Look at where my thumb and fingers come together. That’s the weak part of my grip. Twist your arm toward it and yank your elbow down.”

  I did as he instructed, and with all my might, I pulled my elbow back. My wrist twisted from his grip, reddened and sore, but free.

  My eyes widened. “Hey! You were right, it worked!”

  Eddie’s lip curled ever-so-slightly. “Gee, it’s almost like I know what I’m talking about.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Teach me something else.”

  He thought for a moment and then pointed behind me. “Turn around and look at the window.”

  I turned. “Okay, but why—”

  My breath was stolen by him ramming into the back of me and wrapping both arms tightly around my chest. The side of his face brushed mine.

  I smiled. “If you like it rough, you just have to ask.”

  He huffed a laugh. “Concentrate. If someone comes up behind you and grabs you, what do you do?”

  I kissed his cheek.

  “No,” he said. “Don’t kiss your attacker on the cheek.”

  “But what if he’s cute?”

  Eddie’s arms went limp, letting me go. “You need to take this seriously.”

  “Okay, okay,” I said, hands up in a surrender position. The past few days had been so dull, with each second longer than the last, that this sudden lesson in self-defense was positively thrilling. I had never taken any self-defense training or martial arts before and hoped I’d be able to retain what Eddie was telling me, because I knew from experience that out in the real world, when someone grabbed me, my instinct was to just scream and kick … which had proven quite unsuccessful in the past.

  Eddie grabbed me again from behind. “Someone’s grabbed you, what do you do next?”

  “Stomp on their foot.”

  “No.”

  “Elbow their stomach.”

  “No.”

  “Call their mom a nasty name.”

  Eddie chuckled. “No. Drop down. Let yourself go limp. Deadweight. Once you’re on the ground, roll away.”

  “Roll?”

  “Yes, it’s faster than crawling and they can’t grab you as easily. Just a couple of rolls, then on your feet and run like hell.”

  “Okay.” I took a steadying breath, then let my leg muscles go weak. My body dropped from its own weight. Eddie’s arms tightened around me in response, but I dropped too quickly and was on the ground in a second. I rolled—straight into the dresser. “Ow.”

  He laughed and helped me to me feet. “Good job.”

  After a few more self-defense tactics, we moved to push-ups. I managed twenty before my arms gave out and I lay on the dingy carpet in a weakened mess. I watched him continue right next to me, and lost count of how many he did.

  “Next time you should do that shirtless,” I said.

  Without a word, he went up on his knees, reached behind his head and pulled his t-shirt off. With his face slightly flushed, he looked down at me and cocked an eyebrow. “Better?”

  I grinned. “You should just not wear shirts, ever.”

  He placed his half-naked body over mine. “Neither should you.” His lips pressed against mine as his hand slipped under the hem of my shirt, gliding north, breaking my skin into goosebumps.

  There were two knocks on the door. Followed by a pause, two more knocks, a pause, and a final single knock.

  Luke was back. And once again, a romantic moment between Eddie and me vanished like the mirage it was.

  Eddie lifted himself off me and redressed in his t-shirt. He motioned for me to get behind him as he approached the door, gun in hand.

  When the door opened, Luke stepped in. “I’m not alone,” he said in a calm voice.

  Eddie raised his gun-wielding hand.

  “It’s okay,” Luke said, hands up. “Put your gun away. Trust me.” Luke stepped into the room, and behind him, in walked a woman my height with shoulder-length brown hair.

  I sucked in a ragged breath. “Mom?”

  Chapter Ten

  Eddie’s arm reached out to keep me behind him, but I pushed it out of the way. My feet launched me toward my mother before any part of my brain could rationally comprehend what was happening.

  I hugged my mom tight, taking note of her frail shoulders, so much thinner than I remembered. She stroked my hair and kissed the side of my head, making tears spill down my cheeks.

  When I pulled back, she cupped my face in her hands. “Are you okay? Have you been hurt?”

  My fingers curled gently around her wrists, lowering her hands. “I’m okay, Mom.” I wiped away my tears, glancing at Luke. “What’s going on? Where did you find her?”

  But before he could answer, my mom stepped away from me and walked up to Eddie.

  “You must be Eddie, Teodoro’s son,” she said.

  With a tensed jaw, Eddie nodded once.

  “This is Jill Mancini,” Luke said to him. “Natalie’s mom, obviously. She reached out to me yesterday, saying someone had given her my name to come forward and tell her story.”

  Eddie cut my mom a sharp look. “Who gave you his name?”

  “Your father,” she replied.

  Eddie’s face went blank. “Excuse me?”

  From her pocket, my mom produced a silver chain necklace, holding it out for him to take. Eddie’s brow wrinkled as he glanced from her face to the chain, then back to her face.

  He raised a hand and she dropped the necklace into his open palm. As he held it up, a charm dangled from it. Something silver and round. A Day of the Dead skull, similar to the tattoo on his shoulder.

  “Where did you get this?” he asked.

  My mom pursed her lips before replying, “It was Ted’s—your father’s.”

  Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “I know who it belonged to, I want to know why you have it and where you got it from.”

  She took in a deep breath. “It’s a long story, but I knew your dad.”

  Eddie cocked his head to the side in what looked like disbelief. He stared down at the necklace again and sneered. “And how do I know you’re not a plant, sent here by Sergei?”

  “Why would I do that to my own daughter?”

  “Barely your daughter,” he said.

  I shot him a biting look. “Eddie, don’t. That’s not fair.”

  “How many times in the last ten years did you even pick up the phone and check in on her?” Eddie asked my mom. “Or did Romanov take your phone privileges away, too?”

  “I left for Natalie’s own good,” she replied. “Sergei Romanov threatened me. He threatened all of us. I had to leave, I had to pull back and limit my contact. It was the same reason your dad left your mom.”

  Eddie’s head reared back. “My dad didn’t leave. He died when I was six.”

  “No. I’m sorry, but that’s not the truth.”

  “Not the—” Eddie ran a hand down his face, his body fidgeting in place. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  My mom gave him a sympathetic look. “Your father did not die when you were six
years old.”

  Eddie glared at her. “Are you telling me that my father’s alive?”

  My mom hung her head. “I wish I could say that. What I’m saying is that he didn’t die when you were six, and not in a car accident.”

  “That’s bullshit.” Eddie’s face was turning red, veins in his neck bulging. “Why are you even talking about my dad, and how the hell do you have his necklace?”

  Luke put a hand up. “Hold up, Eddie, let her explain.”

  “I went to his fucking funeral,” Eddie said through clenched teeth.

  My mom moved past me and sat on the edge of the bed. It might have been the bad lighting of the room, but the lines on her face were deep and long, her cheeks more sunken in than they had been last Thanksgiving.

  “Was it a closed casket?” she asked Eddie.

  “He was cremated.”

  “That wasn’t your father.”

  Eddie stepped back, hands on his hips, gaze on the floor. I knew his mind was a scrambled mess … the emotions of a grieving, confused son mixing with the logical, rapid-fire thinking of an FBI agent. His chest heaved with every breath, as though having to force his lungs to keep him upright in that moment.

  “Okay,” he said in barely more than a whisper. “If my dad didn’t die seventeen years ago, and not in an accident, then how did he die? And when?”

  My mom’s gaze latched onto Luke with a pleading look of help me out here on her face.

  “Eddie, your dad died two days ago,” Luke said.

  Eddie lurched forward, knocking me to the side, and rushed up to Luke. Luke stepped back, but Eddie moved forward again until they were chest-to-chest. They were the exact same height. Eddie was more muscular, however, and the confused and grieving rage sweltering under his skin in that moment made his stature even more noticeable.

  His nostrils flared as he stared down Luke. “Are you telling me that my father was alive two days ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “What the fuck?” Eddie demanded. “How long have you known this? And why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just found out, I swear. I would have told you if I—”

  “Bullshit!” Eddie said, punching the wall right next to him.

  “Whoa.” Luke put his hands up. “Check yourself, Martinez. You need to back up. Now!”

  They stood, just inches apart, staring one another down like the two stubborn hotheads they were.

  With an audible grunt, Eddie pivoted, running his fingers through his hair. He stepped to the window and stayed there for several minutes. I sat next to my mom, our hands entwined. Luke leaned against the wall, watching his colleague and friend from across the room, not speaking, probably knowing Eddie well enough to know that he needed to deal with this on his own time. Pressuring Eddie to do something against his will never produced good results.

  “Why should we trust you?” Eddie finally asked my mom, still with his back to us.

  “Because I love my daughter, and because I’m putting myself at risk here, as well.” My mom let go of my hands and stood up, facing Eddie. “My entire law firm in Salt Lake City is now dead because of me. All seven, even the UPS guy who was there delivering packages… Wrong time, wrong place. They were all killed by Sergei’s men as revenge after I left last spring. Do you want to know how I managed to get away?”

  Eddie looked over his shoulder at her.

  “Your father helped me escape and go dark,” she said.

  My mind raced and two big pieces of the puzzle finally snapped together. Eddie and me. His dad, my mom.

  “That’s it!” I said, standing up.

  “What’s it?” Eddie asked.

  “That’s why Sergei paired us up together for that assignment last spring,” I said. “We’re the kids of people who pissed him off. He wanted to use us to punish our parents.”

  Luke nodded. “Natalie’s right. This whole thing has never really been about the two of you—it’s about your parents. You guys are just retribution.”

  Eddie finally turned to face us again. His eyes focused on my mom. “Tell me about my father.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Eddie and Luke sat at the table, my mom and me on the edge of the bed, hands once again clinging onto one another as though we’d both float away without the other’s grasp.

  “I’m not really sure where to start,” my mom said.

  “At the beginning,” Eddie snapped.

  I glared at him. He noticed, but looked away, obviously not caring if he was being rude. And I couldn’t really blame him. He was processing a hell of a lot of bizarre information. The whole story of his dad was playing out like a bad dream you’d wake up from thinking, Thank God that wasn’t real.

  “Okay.” My mom shifted and crossed her legs. “Last March was when I decided enough was enough. The six months before that, things started getting even more intense at work. Sergei’s men were beginning to hover, questioning us about clients and accounts. Sergei was paranoid he was being investigated and spied on.”

  “He was,” Eddie said.

  “Yes, I figured that was the case,” she said. “But of course I didn’t say anything. I just kept my head down and did my work, the same way I had for ten years. But one day, a man was waiting for me in my apartment when I got home. I nearly collapsed in fear, assuming he was there to kill me. But he wasn’t. He was your father, Ted. You look like him.”

  “Keep going,” Eddie said.

  “He asked me if I wanted out, said he could help. I asked him why, asked who he was, and he didn’t tell me at first. He just helped me. It took about a month to get everything set up and that was the worst. For over four weeks, I had to go into work and pretend things were normal, when really I was preparing to risk my life to not only leave but to help bring down the most powerful man I had ever known.”

  “Did you ever meet Sergei?” Eddie asked.

  She shook her head. “Not face-to-face. But when a man’s as powerful as Sergei Romanov, he doesn’t need to be present to have his presence known. He mostly sent a man named Sean to conduct his business. Unless he was needed to collect money or demand information. Then he’d send in big guys—enforcers, I suppose.”

  “What happened when you finally left?”

  “Your dad prepared all new paperwork for me. A different name, fake ID and passport, a new car. I went to work one day as usual—it was a Tuesday—and after work I went home as usual. But that was the last time anyone saw me. Just past midnight, a car picked me up and whisked me away with nothing but the clothes on my back. I stayed at various safe houses your dad had arranged, but then about a month ago, someone tried to break in. Maybe it was just a random person, but it scared me enough to flee and I stayed with your dad after that. When I asked him why he was willing to help me, he said he had helped other people in my position as well and that it was to settle an old score with Sergei.” My mom forced a tight smile. “And that’s when he told me about you and your mom, and how he had to leave you.”

  “What did he tell you?” Eddie asked, this time with a lighter voice.

  “What do you know about your father’s life before he came to the US?”

  “Not much. He was born in Chihuahua, he was an only child, and he said my grandparents in Mexico had died before he immigrated up here.”

  She nodded, as if expecting that simple of an answer. “Your dad was a police officer in Juarez. Back then, Sergei was new in the trafficking game and was running heroin over the border into Texas. He had a partner named Ivan, and one night while on duty, your dad pulled over a van driven by Ivan. In the back were bricks of heroin, so Ivan, probably in a flash of desperation, shot at your father. Your dad fired back, killing him. After that, he had Sergei hunting him, so he fled to the US, met your mom, and so on.”

  “My dad killed Sergei’s partner.”

  “He did more than that. Ivan was Sergei’s son—his only child.”

  “My dad killed Sergei’s son?” Eddie sat back with an unamused chuckle
. “Jesus, no wonder he wants me dead. Eye for an eye, son for a son. Why didn’t he just kill me years ago? It would’ve been a hell of a lot easier when I was little, playing Little League and riding my bike into town to get ice cream.”

  “Because Sergei suspected that your dad’s car accident seventeen years ago was faked and that your dad wasn’t really dead.”

  “You’re saying Sergei hunted my dad ever since that faked car accident, hoping to find him and give him a front-row seat to my death? He wanted my dad alive in order to see me—his only son—killed?”

  My mom smiled, then drew it back. “You think and speak just like your father. He’s a smart, solid guy.”

  “Was,” Eddie said.

  “Yes, was.”

  “But you said my dad died two days ago. And I’m still alive, so Sergei’s plan didn’t work out.”

  “Yes, I know.” My mom took a deep breath. “And I’m sorry to have to tell you about your father like this. As I said, he was captured a few weeks ago. I’m not sure what happened after that, maybe he fought back or tried to escape—but whatever happened, Sergei killed him before he could repay his son-for-a-son plan. I found his necklace at his place and I knew something was wrong because he always wore it. And with the necklace was a note with Luke’s name and number to call if I wanted to come forward.”

  “How did he know who Luke was?” I asked.

  She smiled. “Ted was aware of many things. He watched you, Eddie, as you grew up and went into the FBI. He was always around, even though you didn’t see him.”

  Eddie’s face twitched and he looked away as she spoke. Under the weak lights of the room, his eyes glistened.

  “He knew your colleagues,” she continued. “Knew who could be trusted, who you were close to. So, I decided to contact Luke. Figured if Ted trusted him, then I could, too.”

  “So, he left his necklace,” Eddie said. “But how do you know he was killed?”

  “His body was found yesterday,” Luke said. “Coroner estimates he was killed two days ago. I asked them to hold off on telling your mom, and volunteered myself to do that. But I haven’t yet, so if you want to be the one to break it to her, you have that opportunity.”