by Meg Jackson
“What did she say?” Cristov asked, following Kennick to the living room, where the three brothers sat on the old, natty couch they’d grown up jumping on, sleeping on, and spilling juice on. It was beautiful for those stains.
“She said there would be trouble,” Kennick said, pointedly ignoring her prophecies of love. That was none of his brother’s business. In truth, he knew this was wrong. Everything was his brothers’ business. They didn’t hide things from each other. But Kennick didn’t feel the need to share that right now. Mina gave him a strange look as she passed through the living room, teapot in hand, as though she saw his lie in his eyes.
Damon sighed, but didn’t say anything. Cristov slumped down.
“That’s what she said to me, too,” he said. “Plus, she said some shit about me having to grow up and stop acting like a puppy. Whatever that means.”
Kennick bit back a smile.
“She said someone in the kumpania would raise hell,” Kennick continued. “About me being rom baro.”
Rom baro, the big man. The leader. The one in charge. Pieter Volanis had once held that title, and with his passing it fell to Kennick’s shoulders. As the oldest of the Volanis brothers, his father had spent his last days finalizing a life's work of teaching. Kennick had always paid close attention to the way his father led the kumpania, the group of families and extended families who travelled together, all of them Rom by blood or by marriage. Resolving disputes, dealing with the myriad businesses, being the kumpania’s liaison for law enforcement and community groups. Kennick had always known he was destined to take Pieter’s place. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.
“Well, whoever it is will have a lot to handle if he tries to mess with you,” Cristov said, clapping Kennick on the back. “Everyone knows that there’s no such thing as a lone Volanis.”
“Of course,” Damon said, adding his rare two cents to the conversation. Kennick’s heart still throbbed and ached for Baba, knowing it would be a matter of days – if not hours – before they laid her to rest. But surrounded by his brothers, his sister nearby, in the trailer they’d grown up in, through laughter and tears, he knew that death was just a transition.
Someday, he would see Baba – and Pieter – again. In the meantime, he had an army at his side. They were a small army, it was true. Four siblings made for a small army, indeed. But they were well-armed, well-taught, and well-fought.
Soon, they would strike out for Kingdom, Delaware, where a thirty-year-old tragedy waited for them to clear their family name.
2
“Kimmy, did I ever tell you that you’re the sweetest, most wonderful assistant on the face of the planet?”
Kim rolled her eyes and smiled. Mayor Gunderson’s big, affable face was cock-eyed, supported on one fist, his elbow on the counter in front of her computer. His million-dollar smile was like a crescent moon, all bright white and too wide to believe.
“Only every day for the past five years,” she said, sliding his day’s itinerary across the marble counter. He ignored it, as usual, lowering his arm and leaning forward slightly to peak over at her desk.
“Ooh, what’s that? From Sid’s?” She could almost see his mouth watering as he admired her breakfast: a spinach and mushroom omelet with rye bread, an unusual choice for Kim but one that she’d made only after promising herself to actually go to the gym that afternoon.
She’d been up late the night before, trying to figure out who might want to act on some of the business proposals the town council had come up with in their last meeting. The council was full of ideas about what businesses would help the little town of Kingdom; it was finding someone with the capital, or credit, to start them that was a problem. She’d felt tired enough that morning to need the extra energy.
“You know it,” she said. “Wouldn’t go anywhere else.”
The mayor leaned back and narrowed his eyes slightly, a devilish twinkle in them.
“Did you have a late night? I know when I’m feeling a bit under the weather, eggs do wonders for me,” he said with a wink.
She knew he wasn’t talking about the kind of late night she’d had. In the years she’d been working for him, she’d come to recognize the telltale signs that he’d been tippling late into the evening: red eyes, mismatched socks, a forced smile, the overpowering smell of mouthwash to hide the leftover booze breath. Sometimes, you could still get a whiff of strong liquor as he walked by. This wasn’t one of those mornings, but there were plenty of them.
Mayor Gunderson liked his drinks strong and plentiful. He told her once that he considered those nights at the bar an important part of his political success, and she had to admit it was true. He was one of the most pleasant drunks she’d ever seen, and held his liquor well enough to usually seem much less drunk than he was.
People liked him because they considered him “one of them”: a local, a good guy, a buddy. He knew their troubles, could sympathize with their plights, because at the end of the day he got drunk same as they did, one drink at a time. And his generosity of spirit was admired, too, by anyone who was lucky enough to be at the bar when he’d slap his fist against it and call a round for everyone in sight, on his dime.
“Well, I was up late working on those proposals…” Kim started to say, knowing before he even did it that he’d dismiss her with a wave of his hand.
“You work too much, Kimmy,” he said. “All work and no play makes Kim a dull girl. Listen, tonight, come on down to Sammy’s and I’ll buy us a pint or two, huh? It’s Friday, after all,” he said, leaning forward once more.
Kim thought of her usual Friday night: dinner for one and a Netflix marathon. Doing something – anything – certainly sounded appealing, although she’d definitely have to go to the gym if she was going to be adding a few beers to her strict diet.
Kim was constantly monitoring her weight; at 5'2, she liked to keep herself at a comfortable 120 pounds. But her metabolism had been stubbornly slowing more and more as she approached 30, and she had been sitting at a steady 125 for months now. With B-cup breasts that were still perky and full, a generously rounded ass, and soft hips, she didn't see herself as the perfectly-curved woman that other people saw. Her mother's constant criticisms made sure of that.
“Alright,” she said with a shrug, ignoring the part of her that tried to say no, “sounds like a plan.”
Mayor Gunderson clapped his hands in delight before finally taking the itinerary and heading into his office. Not that there was much on the itinerary, anyway. He had a meeting with some Girl Scouts and a business lunch with the Knights of Columbus, but beyond that he was free and clear to do what he usually did: nap, solitaire, phone calls to his myriad friends, and general time-wasting.
Kingdom’s bleak financial state didn’t seem to put any fire under his ass to get things done; but then again, with Kim around to do all his dirty work, he didn’t have much incentive. Things got done, of course, or else he wouldn’t have been re-elected. It was just a matter of who was really doing them.
When it came to the day-to-day minutia of running the town, Kim was the real workhorse, the one who got the papers signed and dealt with the angry calls. She dealt with the Town Council, Town Board, and the Town Manager. She put out the press releases and handled the incoming complaints, propositions, petitions, and initiatives.
And she did it all without her boss’ salary or public recognition. It was all for one simple reason: she loved her town, loved the people in it, and wanted to improve things. She could have run for office herself, but in many ways Kingdom was still way behind the times, and a young woman wouldn’t stand a chance against the established candidates, all middle-aged men with connections. Kim's blue eyes, long blonde hair, and button nose helped her get dates, but they'd be no such help when it came to votes. So she did her part from the sidelines, hoping that someday she’d get her chance to reap the benefits.
But that chance would not come on that Friday. Instead, it was more of the same-old-same
old. Mrs. Tenor was still mad about her mail coming in the afternoon instead of the morning. Mr. Caldwich wanted to know why no one had fixed the pothole on Warren Street. The animal shelter wanted to host an adoption event at Williston Park. Kim agreed to come out and help volunteer at that; she worked at the animal shelter on weekends, finding the company of cats and dogs somewhat less stressful than the company of people.
As Kim filled her day, reaching out to some local business owners to see if anyone had enough funds to perhaps take on one of the town councils’ propositions, she grew increasingly frustrated. Either there was no money, or there was no desire to put the energy into a new venture. She knew, for instance, that Kyle Jonas, who owned the town’s only hotel, was still doing well for himself, but he had laughed in her ear when she’d asked if he’d be interested in investing in a new business to help revitalize Main Street.
Soon, she’d have to start seeking outside interests from one of the well-to-do towns surrounding Kingdom, and that would hurt her pride. She knew that Kingdom was somewhat looked down upon by the more wealthy towns as being an eyesore – when tourists drove through Kingdom’s boarded-up streets on their way to, say, Hamilton Falls, they might get the wrong idea about rural Delaware.
All the more reason for you to start funneling some of that yuppie cash into our town, she’d think bitterly, but still hated the thought that, in accepting help from the outside, the true nature of Kingdom as a small, friendly, middle-class working town would be corrupted. It was a screwed-either-way scenario, no matter how Kim tried to see the bright side.
Before she knew it, the clock was telling her to go home – she’d barely looked up from the budget spreadsheet she’d been studying when Mayor Gunderson had left, reminding her about their “date” that night. Kim coughed, immediately worried she was coming down with something. If she was, she’d have to forego the gym and the pint at Sammy’s.
At the back of her mind, she was relieved at the prospect of ditching both plans.
In fact, she knew herself well enough to be aware that the cough wasn’t a sign of anything, but an excuse. The day had been long. She wanted to go home and stay there. Anxiety was starting to nip at her heels when she thought about braving a social excursion, or being exposed to the other people at the gym.
No matter how fast she ran on the treadmill, she always felt like the people around her were making fun of her for not going hard enough. And as much as she loved the people of her town, she had always been the sort of girl to think people talked about her behind her back. Even though she knew all this was ridiculous, because people mostly only thought about themselves and didn’t have a thought to spare on her, it still kept her from living her life comfortably.
But she’d fought it her whole life, and would continue to fight it, pressing herself to face those absurd fears with all the courage in her marrow. If anyone knew what a struggle it was for Kimberly James to make it through a day, they would bow to her strength. But for Kim, it was all just weakness and fear.
Just as she turned off her computer, double-checking her paperwork to see if she’d missed any of her day’s tasks, a knock on the glass door to the office forced her head to snap up. It was a quarter past five; the office was closed. But Kim wasn’t in any rush to leave, and if anything welcomed the opportunity to stall her dreaded appointment with the Stairmaster. Her heels clicked on the linoleum as she walked to the door.
3
When she could see the three men standing on the other side, her breath caught in her throat.
They were big. And they were handsome. And they were strangers.
She knew almost everyone in town, even if just by their face, from crossing paths in the supermarket or DMV. But she certainly didn’t know any of these men. The three shared intense green eyes and impressive statures. The man who stood closest to the door had long, shaggy brown hair that fell across his forehead, while the two standing behind him wore their hair short, one blonde and the other with hair so dark it almost looked black. Kim took a deep breath before swinging the door open. Even through the safety of the glass, she felt the affect they had on her.
It was enormous, and purely physical.
“Hi,” she said, clearing her throat as the long-haired man caught her eye. “Office is closed…can I help you with anything?”
She saw, now, that the man nearest her was holding a bundle of papers in manilla envelopes, somewhat haphazardly organized. Up close, he was even more impressive. The short beard covering his chin was red, surprisingly, and he wore a tight-fitting flannel button-up, unbuttoned, over a white V-neck t-shirt that gave a hint of the tanned skin and curly hair underneath, as well as some intriguing swirls of ink. He smiled at her, a small smile, but one which made her heart flip over and take a bow.
Whoo, was all she could think.
“We were trying to find out where we could drop off these business license applications and permits and sh- uh, stuff,” he said, his voice a deep tenor with a fine gravel that exuded masculinity. Kim’s eyes darted down. Those were all business licenses? Her eyes widened as she looked back up at him.
“Oh,” she said. “Well, they’d go to the Town Clerk, actually, but that office is closed, too. Won’t be open again until Monday.”
“Ah,” he said, and turning around flashed an annoyed look at the blonde, who shrugged. “I told you we didn’t have time to stop for burgers.”
“I’m a slave to my stomach, not time,” the blonde said, a grin on his face. The black-haired man’s lips lifted slightly, but his face remained largely impassive. Turning back to Kim, the man holding the folders shifted.
“Well, it’ll have to wait ‘til Monday, then,” he said. His eyes travelled downwards quickly, and Kim felt them reach across her body. It suddenly got very cold in the room. At least, that’s why her nipples were hardening slightly, she told herself. Flicking his eyes back up to hers, he gave a sort of half-bow and turned as if to leave.
“Wait,” Kim said, stepping out of the office slightly, holding the door open so it wouldn’t slam shut behind her. “If you want to give them to me, I’ll make sure they get to the office first thing Monday morning.”
He turned back to her, a wider smile on his face now, revealing a row of perfectly straight, white teeth.
Woah, boy, she thought.
“That’d be fantastic,” he said, gathering the papers and folders together in a slightly more reasonable pile before handing them over to her. She looked down, eyes sparking with interest. She was excited to delay her gym trip even more, looking through the applications to see what sort of businesses these men were planning to open. By the size of the stack, Kim wondered if a trio of guardian angels had just descended on Kingdom. Her eyes returned to his, a smile spreading over her own face, giddy with the thought that all the town’s prayers may have just been answered.
“I’m Kim, by the way,” she said, feeling that old anxiety start to kick and whir in her stomach, but tamping it down, hard. “I’m Mayor Gunderson’s assistant. If you ever need anything, drop by here. We have a very open door policy here at the Mayor’s office. We’re happy to serve our citizens any way they need.”
When the long-haired man’s eyebrows rose slightly and the blonde behind him sniggered, Kim’s smile drooped. Had she said something strange or funny? The black haired man pushed against the blonde, and from the stare they exchanged, Kim was momentarily afraid a fight was about to break out in the hallway. But, the tension was gone as soon as it had risen.
“I’m Kennick,” the long-haired man said, holding his hand out. Kim shuffled the folders until she managed to free one hand. His palm was rough, fingers calloused, and she couldn’t help but notice that his knuckles looked battle-scarred. She also couldn’t help but notice the swift warmth that travelled up her arm as they made contact. “Kennick Volanis. And these are my brothers.”
“Cristov,” said the blonde with a wave. “And Damon.”
Cristov pointed with his thumb to the bl
ack-haired man, who nodded, his lips offering just the ghost of a smile.
“Are you new to town? I haven’t seen you before,” Kim said, for some reason wanting to prolong the conversation. Maybe it was genuine curiosity. It did seem strange, these men arriving after hours with enough paperwork to open five businesses in town. But maybe it was just because, somehow, standing under Kennick’s sea-green gaze, she felt that constant anxiety in her gut abating slightly, making room for something else. Something she liked quite a bit.
“Ah,” Kennick said, eyes flicking away for a moment. “Yes. Yeah, we – we arrived just yesterday morning. All thirty of us.”
That smile again. It was almost enough to cover up what he’d just said. Almost. Kim’s brows furrowed.
“Thirty?” she asked, “What…”
“We have a lot of family and friends,” Cristov piped up behind Kennick, eyes flashing devilishly. “We’re moved into that trailer park out on Cunningham Avenue.”
“Oh,” Kim said. Now, it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. That trailer park had been largely abandoned for years. Except for the few transients and drug addicts who would set down stakes for a year or two and then disappear, she wasn’t aware of anyone actually residing there in the entire time she’d lived in Kingdom. In fact, the last she heard of the place being an actual community was thirty years ago, when…
“You guy’s aren’t….you’re not…” she said, stammering, looking down at the stack with growing disappointment. Gypsies. The last time that park had been full, it’d been full of gypsies. And these guys, their business licenses, their thirty friends and families…well, it added up. So much for guardian angels. When she looked back up, the smiles were gone from the three men’s faces, replaced by cold resignation. Immediately, she regretted the thoughts she’d been having, the way she’d clearly started judging them before even thinking about it. Mustering up her bravery once more, she smiled as wide as she could.