All We Ever Needed

by D. A. Young

  Julian’s head dropped again, and Thea squeezed his shoulder, staring at Holt, wordlessly begging him.

  “Don’t worry. Everythin’ will all work out. It has to.”

  ***

  Blaise was leaning against a neon-yellow Aston Vantage coupe when Holt exited the hotel. Despite his sour mood of missing Katerina, seeing his youngest cousin put a smile on Holt’s face. He straightened and moved with the poise of the privileged elite that he was: bored and loaded. Blaise slapped palms with Holt and yanked him into a bear hug.

  “You’re looking good, man! That’s a sharp-ass suit! Black’s a little too “funeral” for my liking, but the cut is all the way decent.”

  Holt gave a sharp bark of laughter. That was an understatement. Blaise loved color. The brighter the better, hence the Aston’s color. Presently, he wore a periwinkle, fitted, double-breasted suit with a white button-down dress shirt and a raspberry tie with white polka-dots. On his feet were raspberry crocodile-skin loafers. His platinum mane was short and tapered on the sides with an overly long mop of curls on top, styled to the right side of his face, á la Thompson Twins circa 1980s. Like the males in the family, he was tall but slim with features that were more effeminate than masculine, taking after his Mormor Madeline and Moster Elin.

  Six years younger than Holt, he was cocky and flashy and endearing when it benefited him. Blaise worked in the marketing division of Falk Incorporated. His passion was humanitarian work, and he assisted Cleo at the Madeline Falk Foundation.

  “It’s good to see you, Blaise. Lookin’ sharp as always.”

  “You, too, man. I’m sorry that we weren’t in touch sooner,” the younger man ruefully apologized, opening the driver’s door and sliding into the supple onyx leather seat while Holt slipped into the passenger side.

  “Ivar said the situation was being handled, and I assumed that he’d contacted you. I’ve been doing humanitarian work in Portugal. Construction and Renovation. Thea reached out to me, and I came back immediately.” His face soured with disgust. “Everything good up there? I saw that little bitch Bergqvist crawling away with a bloody nose. I don’t even have to ask who did it and if he deserved it.”

  His explanation was plausible. “It’s all good, Blaise.” Holt ran his fingers over the Alcantara stitching of his seat with approval. “What year is this?”

  “It’s not even out on the market yet! Ivar pulled some strings. It’s a reward for securing the location for the children’s center we’re building. I had a budget to adhere to, and Matty crunched the numbers, so I was able to actually come in under.”

  Blaise gave an exaggerated sniff. “Smell that, Holt? That’s power! This sexy-ass, shrink-wrapped ho with a 4.0-liter twin-turbo V-8 engine under her skirt is the baddest bitch I’ve ever fucked!” Blaise crowed as he shot away from the curb and they zoomed off, weaving in and out of traffic.

  “Speaking of bad bitches…” A slick grin plastered to his face, Blaise punched Holt’s forearm lightly. “When do we finally get to meet the mysterious Katerina Romankov?! I can’t believe you’re smashing “The Wolf’s–”

  It was far as he got.

  The blade of Holt’s axe against his ear silenced him. Paralyzed by the unexpected threat, Blaise couldn’t tear his eyes away from the speedway. The prick of the steel spurred his reaction.

  "What the hell? Fuck!” he hissed. “Come on, Holt! You know I’m just playing! That’s who I am! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean anything by it! I was trying to compliment her! Shit!”

  Blood appeared on his nicked lobe.

  “By referencin’ her as a bitch? Do better, asshole! I don’t fuck around or play games when it comes to my woman. Nor will I indulge any motherfucker that tries to engage with me on the topic, kin or not,” Holt explained in a soft, deadly voice, making no effort to lower his weapon.

  “She is off-limits. You’re my family, and I love you, Blaise. But Katerina is much more than that, and I’m in love with her. Now, you know the difference and where you rank on my chain of priorities. Hopefully, it’s a deterrent for you to stop runnin’ off at the mouth. If not, I’ll remove your tongue, and our problem will be resolved.”

  At this moment, the foot between them might as well have been an ocean. Blaise was waiting on tenterhooks, his heartbeat suspended, for his cousin’s next move. Sweat formed on his brow and slid down his straight nose, dripping off the tip, and he licked his lips. “Got it. Note to self: Don’t ever mention Bratva offspring’s appeal or Google her ever again.”

  Holt finally relented and removed the axe with an amused snort. “Bratva? Where the hell do you come up with this ridiculous shit?”

  “He’s certainly scary enough for it.” Blaise tentatively touched his nicked ear, still incredulous that the cousin he idolized had pulled his weapon on him. He knew Holt well enough to detect the underlying bloodlust in his voice when he defended Katerina Romankov’s honor. Blaise suspected his cousin would slay Saint Bridget, the patron saint of Sweden herself if she insulted his beloved.

  “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to bow out of this conversation while my body parts are still intact,” he grumbled.

  “A wise choice,” Holt graciously acquiesced, putting his weapon away. “You got the address?”

  “Already programmed in.”

  “Let’s get at it then.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Whiskey Row, TN

  “Auntie K, what kinda bait are we gettin’?”

  D.J. and Kat were browsing the racks of Bait and Switch, Whiskey Row’s premier sporting goods and bait shop.

  “Since we don’t want to accidentally introduce any non-native organisms into the water, which could harm the fish, we’re going to go old school and use minnows and worms, hon.”

  “Okie-dokie. Man, I can’t wait to get my fishin’ license! Me and Uncle Guy have a great time when we go on his boat. Too bad I have to wait until I’m thirteen.”

  “It’ll be here before you know it. Why don’t you ask Mr. Arno to give us an eight-ounce cup of earthworms and maybe his smallest pack of minnows? I’m going to grab a utility knife and a pair of long-handled pliers for my tackle box.”

  “You got it, Auntie K.”

  Kat listened to the excited thump of D.J.’s utility boots on the wooden floor as she headed to the next aisle and wondered how he could move so fast with all of his gear on. Avery had bundled her son down in a turtleneck with a cable knit sweater over it, his puffer jacket, and a beanie and scarf. Keeping one eye on him and listening to the in-depth conversation he and Mr. Switch were partaking in, Kat carefully selected the necessary tools and headed to toward them.

  D. J. turned to her with a huge grin. “Mr. Arno said that if I keep up the good work in school, I can get a job here when I get older.”

  “Is that right?” Kat ruffled his hair affectionately as she placed the items on the counter and pulled out her wallet. “Did you know that your Uncle Casey and Uncle Guy worked here, too? It was their first summer job.”

  Arno Switch talked as he rang up the items. “They sure did. That was the summer that sports became extremely popular among the young ladies. Business was boomin’ but never more so than when them two was on the clock. That’ll be fifty-seven dollars and thirty-eight cents, Ms. Kat.”

  She handed him her debit card, and Arno took it without batting an eye. He processed her sale and passed it back to her, along with her bag of supplies and a genuine smile. The knot in Kat’s stomach untangled, and she released the breath she’d been unconsciously holding, reminding herself that her card would actually be charged from now on.

  “Thank you kindly for shoppin’ at Bait and Switch. Y’all stay warm and safe out there. The sun will be settin’ in another hour. You only got until thirty minutes after that to fish.”

  “We sure will. Bye, Mr. Arno.”

  The door opened when they were just shy of it. The newcomer was dressed like a local hunter in all camouflage, but his baseball-style cap couldn’t conceal his i
vory skin, pampered as if never exposed to the sun. He kept his head down as they passed each other, and he shuffled to the register.

  “You know that man, Auntie K?” D.J. was suspicious as he caught the man staring their way through the window.

  She turned to look, but he was talking to Mr. Arno with his head turned away, gesturing toward the back of the shop. “No, baby. We better get going so we can make it before sunset.”

  Kat drove to her favorite watering hole for ice fishing. It was located where Alexei used to take her and her brothers, located a half-a-mile from her family estate. When they arrived, D.J. carried the fishing poles and angler, while Kat grabbed the chairs and saw. They settled on a spot five feet from the shore, and Kat used both hands to saw a circle into the ice.

  She thrust the earthworm container at him. “Bleh! D.J., worms have never been my specialty. You set a pole with a worm, and I’ll use a minnow for the other.”

  “You goin’ soft on me, Auntie K?”

  “Hardly! They’re just too wiggly for me to handle.” Kat settled down on a chair and held out hand sanitizer after D.J. hooked the worm and angled his fishing rod. “All done! Now, we wait. Cop a squat, friend. If nothing hooks after fifteen minutes, we’ll change location.”

  She poured hot cocoa from the thermos into a disposable mug and handed it to him. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks for taking me out. I was a little worried that you’d forget.”

  “When have I ever forgotten you, D.J. Sullivan?” Kat slung her arm around his shoulders and lay her head on top of his.

  “Never,” he mumbled. “I just thought you’d be at the house this weekend and we could hang out while I watch you make some jewelry. It felt weird without you being there. I think Papa was feelin’ some type of way about it, too. I guess we’ll just have to get used to this new dynamic,” he bravely finished.

  Kat felt the prick of tears behind her eyelids and guilt smacked her silly. D.J. had already been through so much, and she couldn’t bear the thought of unsettling him. “How about instead, we make a new tradition? You can come over and hang out or spend the night? The smaller kiddos, too.”

  Instantly, D.J. perked up. “I’d like that, Auntie K! Think Uncle Holt would mind?”

  No time like the present to get him ready for kids, Kat thought. “I think he’ll be beside himself with excitement.”

  Nothing happened in that time sequence, and the sun was slowly setting. Kat cut another hole, eight feet from the first one. This time, they struck gold. The fish were biting. As they hauled two, eight-inch trout up, Kat reminded her nephew, “Remember, we can only catch five trout a day, and they have to be at least seven inches long. Rock bass limit is twenty and no size minimum. I’m not a fan of them, are you?”

  “Not really. I sure did have a hankerin’ for some rainbow trout, though.”

  He gave a victorious shout as Kat reeled a twelve-inch trout in, and they high-fived each other. Suddenly, his line tugged and jerked frantically. They stared at each other and screamed their excitement. Kat unhooked her fish and tossed it into the Styrofoam container. She stood behind D.J. and braced him, steadily working the reel.

  “Holy Captain Ahab!” D.J. exclaimed.

  “Easy, hon,” Kat huffed her warning. “We can’t go too fast. If the line to snaps, we could wind up with nothing.”

  Together, they managed to bring the fishing line up and flailing around at the end was a four-foot trout.

  “This one’s a monster!” D.J. hollered, punching the air with a war cry.

  The shift in strength changed with his release, and the line snapped, freeing the flailing trout. It flew a couple of feet in the air away from them.

  “Awww crap!” D.J. took off for it, and Kat laughed at his antics as he tried to pick the fish up and it slipped out of his clutches and landed even further away.

  “If you want bragging rights, you better catch that fish! Otherwise, your uncles will never let you hear the end of it!”

  “Don’t I know it!” Finally, he was able to secure a firm grip on the trout and lifted it, holding it against the front of his jacket. He turned back to Kat, and his toothy grin was infectious. “Got ‘em! Can you take a pic, Auntie K? I wanna send it to Camille and Mai Ling!”

  “I sure will, baby.” Kat pulled her phone out of her jacket and aimed it at him. “On the count of three. One, two, three!”

  D.J. grinned proudly. “We’re fixin’ to eat good tonight!”

  Kat pocketed her phone and hugged him and his cold, wet prize. “I love you, baby. Partners in crime for life, yeah?”

  “No doubt, Auntie K. I love you, too.”

  ***

  “Kaaaaa!” Baby Jack shouted, bouncing vigorously in his youngest aunt’s lap. Hazel eyes as wide as saucers regarded her adoringly, and he patted her cheeks and bussed Kat loudly on her chin, infamously slobbering on her. “Kaaaa!”

  She wiped her chin off with a huge grin for her nephew who showed her two, tiny white nubs poking out of his gums. His big, fluffy curls stuck out all over his head, and Kat couldn’t resist running her fingers through them, loving how they sprung back into place. Noelle mentioned earlier that he wasn’t feeling the best due to teething, but as soon as she arrived, Kat had given him a bath with the lavender-scented baby wash she’d picked up from Care For Me Apothecary. Afterward, she’d dressed him in a long-sleeved snowman onesie and brought him down for dinner. He seemed in better spirits, demolishing most of Kat’s meal.

  They’d planned to surprise everyone by cooking the fish at the cabin, but when D.J. called Noelle, they learned that she already made dinner, so they postponed the fish for another night and headed over there. It was so worth it, they agreed. The pork shoulder Noelle braised with fennel and red pepper was so tender, it had practically melted in Kat’s mouth. Baby Jack couldn’t get enough of the white beans, smoked pancetta, and carrots dressed in a zesty herb oil of parsley, basil, and mint. Noelle had simmered the side dish until the beans were creamy and encouraged everyone to add a scoop of freshly grated parmesan over it.

  The meal was so scrumptious that Kat had seconds of both, no shame in her game, while Jack gnawed with contentment on her slice of garlic ciabatta bread.

  Sitting on the other side of her aunt, Ruby recoiled with whiplash speed, pointing theatrically at the drool her brother left behind. “Yuck, Jackie! He so gross, Auntieee K!”

  “No, he’s not gross, honey. He’s just being a baby.”

  Unconvinced by that observation and with a purse of her lips, Ruby shook her head at Kat like ‘nah fam’. “So gross. Put Jackie down. My turn!”

  “Wuwee!” Baby Jack’s eyes lit up, and he waved his hands at her, trying to gain her attention. When that didn’t work, he grabbed one of Kat’s braids and tugged hard enough that she grimaced, pointing at his older sister. “Wuwee!”

  Kat kissed his nose as he looked up at her sadly, his mouth wobbling. “I know, bubba. Maybe we need to tell Sissy about being nicer because you’re not feeling well. Santa loves hearing about kids who are being good.”

  Smiling innocently, Ruby scooted closer to Kat and patted baby Jack’s head, an unholy gleam in her wide, gray eyes. “Santa bwing pwesent?”

  “Have you been good?”

  “Yesss! Pwesent?” she persisted.

  Ruby was just a little too gung-ho for Kat’s comfort. She glanced over her shoulder at Casey, who was lounging on the sectional behind her. “Before I answer her, do you know what she asked Santa for?”

  On the opposite end of the custom-designed sectional, Noelle covered her face with a groan and Jack buried his face in her hair.

  Casey glanced away from the football game and smiled down at Ruby. “You haven’t heard? Our niece would like a new b-r-o-t-h-e-r. As in a replacement.”

  “What the?!” Kat hugged baby Jack to her protectively, staring at their niece that she occasionally referred to as ‘the incorrigible con artist’. Clearly for a good reason. “Rubes, Santa only brings toys,
books, and clothes! He’s not bringing you a new brother. God gave you baby Jack to love and be nice to. You have to be good to each other, okay?”

  “No way!” Ruby jumped up and ran to climb in her Uncle Guy’s lap, where he and D.J. were working on a puzzle at the kitchen table.

  “Just out of curiosity, are we encouraging this behavior?” Kat voiced the question to the room. “What’s going to happen on Christmas morning?”

  “She’ll live,” Guy answered, dropping a kiss on his niece’s curls. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating where Jack and Noelle were cuddled up. “With their track record, she’s bound to get somethin’ sooner rather than later.”

  “Hey, we’ve been good!” Noelle objected and Jack dropped his head to her shoulder, his broad shoulders shaking with silent laughter, prompting her to amend her answer. “Kind of.”

  “We already had a discussion about it, and as long as no one agrees with her, it’s all good.” Jack held his arms out to Ruby, and she wiggled down from Guy’s lap to run to her parents.

  “Wuweee?” Baby Jack wondered hopefully, turning in Kat’s arms to watch his sister.

  Ruby hesitated and glanced at her Aunt Kat then her brother, grave consideration and a ton of suspicion in her untrusting eyes. Tentatively, Baby Jack raised his arms out, his expression full of youthful optimism. Everyone held their breath, barely daring to blink. This treaty was much harder to negotiate than one between the U.S. and North Korea and would be even more fragile.

  The toddler turned away and climbed into her mother’s lap. Once settled comfortably against her, Ruby demanded, “Daddy, bwing Jackie!”

  Jack and Noelle exchanged hopeful smiles. “Sure thing, babygirl.”

  “I should say y-e-s after that little stunt you pulled, having Noelle call me to ask questions that are no one’s business but mine,” Kat retorted as she got to her feet, giving her brothers the stink-eye as she handed the happy baby over to Jack.