Anatoly's Retribution

by Latrivia Welch

  Anatoly was trying to be better. He hoped this small gesture showed that. “You’re welcome,” he said, catching a glimpse of Gabriel flipping burgers on the grill. “I’ll be right back, okay.” Standing up, he walked over to the pit where Gabriel was schooling Anil on his technique for the perfect burger.

  “Raw isn’t good for you. You need to cook the burger more. The center shouldn’t look like a bloody mess,” Anil joked, putting the meat that Gabriel had put on his plate back on the grill.

  “I know you worked in one of those farms to table restaurants with tree huggers and hippies, but I am a real grill master, okay. Let’s get that straight right now.” Gabriel took the burger and put it back on Anil’s plate. “You don’t cook a burger until it’s a rubber patty, you cook it just enough for the juices to flow. The red tint inside lets you know it’s perfect.”

  “That’s bad on your heart,” Anil advised with a smirk. “You’re too big of a man to eat unhealthy. Red meat is a silent killer.” Anil took the burger and put it back on the grill and waved off Gabriel’s cigar smoke. “So is tobacco.”

  “This isn’t just tobacco. This is a Cuban cigar. I brought up six boxes with me from Miami. I had a friend of mine get them for just in case the country got wiped off the map by the storm.”

  “It’s still bad for you,” Anil said quickly. “I don’t think Cuban cigars are exempt from giving you cancer.”

  “They do have a vaccine for lung cancer over their though,” Gabriel argued.

  “What’s this about?” Anatoly asked, walking up to the pair. He felt like he was standing in between two redwood trees, both towering over him.

  He could tell by the tenor of the conversations that they were dueling again over health issues. Last night, it was about Gabriel’s need to do more cardio in the gym. He got a kick out of them, because they behaved more like brothers than cousins. Then again, all three of them had a bond that seemed to have solidified overnight. It was an unspoken brotherhood.

  “Your baby brother is being a mother hen,” Gabriel said, pressing his spatula down on Anil’s burger to make his point.

  The sizzle of the juices falling into the coals made him scowl. A waste of good angus beef. “You’d think he already had M.D. behind his name.”

  “I’m just trying to keep him alive,” Anil said, picking up a beer from the cooler. He passed one to Gabriel and one to Anatoly.

  Gabriel popped his open and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Don’t eat bloody meat, but by all means have a beer.”

  Anatoly opened his beer and grabbed the tongs. Picking up Anil’s patty and the other one beside it, he placed them both on the plate along with buns and condiments.

  “While you two fight over meat preparation, I’m going to take these up to Anastaysia.”

  “How is she?” Gabriel asked. He had not had the pleasure of speaking with her much since she arrived, but by Valeriya’s reports, she was adjusting as well as to be expected.

  “She’s recovering,” Anatoly said gruffly. “The doctors say that coming off heroin is going to be hard for her, but we have a team of professionals that will come in and help her daily, be life coaches to help her fight the addiction head on.” It was painful for him to see his sister in such a way. She would have never done drugs on her own, but regardless of how she ended up an addict, she was one, and now he had to help her as best he could.

  “The next week will be the hardest. It’s when she’s going to peek. After that, the worst part will be over,” Anil said sympathetically. “We’ll be here for her, do whatever we can. As long as she knows that she’s not alone, she’ll survive.”

  “So, they keep telling me,” Anatoly said sullenly. He tried to perk up, considering she was with him and receiving care. “But hey, thanks for checking in on her every night,” he said to Anil.

  “Anything I can do,” Anil offered sincerely. “What are brothers for?”

  ***

  Anastaysia had never experienced such opulent luxury in her entire life. To even imagine it was beyond her wildest dreams, even the ones from her childhood.

  The Medlov mansion was palatial, its grounds vast. There were so many rooms, all decorated with beautiful paintings, furniture, drapes, rugs, crystal, wood and marble – all of them filled with love and memories. The manicured lawns had colorful gardens, pools, tennis courts, gazebos, fruit trees, bricked walkways and more than anything else, freedom.

  While the security details were uncompromising, the men were kind and respectful, a stark contrast from their brooding appearance of dark suits, tattoos and steely eyes.

  The sound of children filled the halls as they ran around playing, surrounded by parents and family members who adored them. It was a tranquil oasis away from the worries of the world, and she doubted she would ever want to leave its walls.

  Since she had arrived the day before on a private jet with her brother and his family, her every wish had been satisfied, some before she could even ask. And the people, the beautiful people, were nicer than she deserved.

  For years while back in Moscow, she had passed judgment on her brother and his entire Medlov lineage. Without cause, she assumed the worse of her brother and all that he had become, but in the short time she had been around them, she had seen exceeding kindness, and it started first with the same brother that she had so coldly shunned. It made her ashamed. Even in her broken state, even as she clamored for a hit, she realized her error and prayed to God that he would forgive her for her short sightedness.

  “Let’s go for something a little less Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” Royal said, sitting in the chaise lounge across from Anastaysia’s bed. Her long black hair was pulled up in a bun with pens and pencils stuck into the band as she worked. “Anastaysia said that she liked butterflies, so instead of gaudy crystal chandeliers, gold and fur rugs, I was thinking demurer, soft pink silks and satins paired with a luxe gray. Right now, this room looks too much like a Mariah Carey nightmare.”

  Royal and the other women had been working since they arrived back home to make sure that Anastaysia’s every need was taken care of. It was important for all of them to let her know that she was welcomed, especially since she had agreed to live with her brother for a while.

  “Yes, ma’am. Now, is that for the dressing room, closets, bathroom, study and bedroom?” the full-figured African-American decorator asked, eagerly writing notes on her pad.

  “Yes, we want it to be warm and welcoming but not too over the top.” Royal scanned the room in disgust of the memories. She hadn’t been in here in over a year and a half, but now that Briggy was gone, she didn’t want a single memory of that gold-digger left in her home. “Briggy was into the gaudy, wasn’t she?”

  “Oh yeah,” Lilly said, sitting on the floor, opening boxes of clothes brought over from the boutique for Anastaysia. “It was glitter, glamour and latex, baby.” Rolling her eyes, she glanced over at the maid, who was putting fresh roses in the vase on the nightstand and to Anastaysia, who rested quietly as everyone moved about. “Hopefully now, we can make it pretty again.”

  “How are you holding up over there?” Royal asked, putting down the swatches for the drapes.

  “Okay,” Anastaysia said, resting on her side in the bed, looking out of the large windows. She could hear everything going on around her, but it was hard to focus.

  Royal stood up and went over to the bed. Taking one of the cold compresses off the table, she changed out the towels on Anastaysia’s head. “Just keep fighting. You’re doing well.” She gently rubbed her blonde locks and pulled the covers up on her.

  Anastaysia had all the symptoms of coming off heroin, including nausea, abdominal pain, shaking, and sweating. They had to continuously change her sheets and her night dress in order to keep her comfortable, but through it all, she never complained.

  “Let us know if you finally want to put something in your stomach.”

  “I will. Thank you,” Anastaysia said, feeling a chill.

  Royal wal
ked over to the large windows and drew the curtains to make the room darker. “There. Is that better?”

  Anastaysia nodded. “I just want to sleep,” she said, curled up into the fetal position.

  Earlier, the women thought the distraction of decorating the room might help Anastaysia take her mind off the withdrawl, but it seemed now exhaustion had set in.

  “Let’s wrap up here, ladies,” Royal said, smoothing a hand over her black yoga pants and Black Girls Run T-shirt. “We can pick up our conversation outside by the pool.”

  Anatoly walked through the bedroom door with a plate of food and saw his sister had plenty of company. “How is she?”

  Royal walked over and took the plate. “Not well enough to eat burgers. If you can get her to eat some broth that would be great. We’re going to leave you two alone for a while.”

  “Thanks, Royal,” Anatoly said, rubbing her arm. She would never know how much he had grown to love her. Everything she could do, she did to protect and nurture their family. Taking in his sister was just another one of her classic moves to keep them all close. “You’ve done a great job.”

  Royal kissed his cheek. “I know.” Winking at him, she took her leave with the other women.

  Alone with his sister, Anatoly walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. Anastaysia turned over on her back and looked up at him. He looked so different with a shaved head. Reaching out, she took his hand.

  “You should be downstairs with your family,” she said, voice broken.

  “You are my family, too,” Anatoly said with a raised brow. He propped his foot on the railing of the bed. “So, you’re looking good,” he joked as he wiped her mouth.

  Running her tongue over her cracked lips, she heaved a breath. “As bad as I feel, it’s still better than any day I spent with Ryan Colt.”

  Anatoly hated the sound of the man’s name. He wanted him banished from their memories forever. “Let’s not ever mention him again, eh?”

  Anastaysia nodded. “Deal.” She managed a smile. “Seeing you again is still so surreal.” He was almost unrecognizable with new brunette/bald look.

  “I was just thinking the same about you.”

  She gasped, suddenly overwhelmed again. It had happened quite a few times since she arrived. There was a tremble in her voice. “Anatoly, I’m so sorry.” Tears welled at the sides of her eyes. “I’m so…”

  “Don’t do that,” he said, wiping them before they could fall onto her face. “There is nothing to be sorry about.” No matter how he tried to be tough, his sister always found his doughy center.

  “Da, there is. So much. I treated you so badly for so many years, and when it came down to it, you were the only one there for me. No one else came looking. No one else cared.”

  Anatoly didn’t like getting too much praise, especially since he didn’t do it alone. “You don’t have to think about that now.”

  “I’m afraid it will be a long time before I forget any of it.” She sat up with her back against the plush pillows and wiped her sore eyes again. “I thought for a long time that I would die there, but when I saw you at the club, I knew my prayers had been answered, and I knew that you would come for me.”

  Anatoly dipped his head avoiding her penetrating gaze. “You’re my sestra, of course I would come.”

  “You’ve been saving me for most of my life, and I love you for it.”

  Anatoly pursed his lips together. To hear her say the words filled him with more hope than he expected. “I love you.” He swallowed down his tears. “Hey, things are going to be much different for you now.”

  “Your father gave me money – not just money – millions, Anatoly. He said it was a gift from an accountant. I don’t know any accountants.”

  Anatoly grinned. “Let’s just say that he owed you.”

  “It was money from…him?”

  “Once.”

  “Then some of it should go to the women who were at the brothel with me. I don’t need twenty million dollars. I don’t need a million. I’m a very simple woman.” Her panic erupted again. “Oh, God. What about my friends. They are still there…”

  Anatoly put a hand on her wrist to calm her. “They’ve been taken care of. Trust me. We sent some of our men to handle it.”

  Anastaysia could just about imagine what Anatoly’s definition of handling it entailed, but she didn’t want to know. What was important was that they were no longer slaves.

  “Do you always think of everything?” she asked, smiling at him.

  “No,” Anatoly said without hesitation. “But I do what I can.”

  “Is it in your power to talk to Arseny?” She knew it was a tough subject for the both of them, but they were all family, and she no longer wanted her brothers to be estranged.

  Anatoly might have been making strides, but she couldn’t expect him to turn into a saint overnight. “One thing at a time. I did speak with him, and I told him that you were safe, here with me. You can call him when you like.”

  “What did he say?” She was certain it was nothing good.

  Anatoly had no intention of getting into all of that. “He had questions. I didn’t give him many answers. I just told him that you were recovering from the situation, and that you were going to live with me.” As far as he was concerned, that was enough of an explanation, especially since Arseny didn’t lift a finger to even call and check on her whereabouts.

  Anastaysia already knew the conversation between her brothers had not been pleasant. But she would do her best in time to help mend them. For now, at least Arseny knew that she was safe.

  There was something else, more pressing that Anatoly cared to discuss. “I don’t want you to just stay here for a while, Anastaysia. I want to take care of you from now on,” Anatoly pleaded. “If you let me.” He inhaled a deep breath and looked around. “I have the means. I have the time. And I want you here with us.”

  Anastaysia didn’t know if she would ever want to be alone again, but she was certain that she never wanted to be without her brother. “I’ll stay as long as you have me.”

  Leaning over, Anatoly kissed her forehead. “Then it’s settled. Now, get some sleep, and we’ll all be in to check on you from time to time. When you’re up to it, you can get up and walk around the grounds. I’ve assigned a guard to you. His name is Nadei.”

  “He’s the blonde man who came to see me earlier?”

  “Yeah, he’s got a long history with the family, but he’s also a new father. The way I see it, you love kids, so you won’t be irritated when he has to cart the baby around with you.”

  Anastaysia laughed. “Are you trying to make a love connection?”

  “If I was, it wouldn’t be with him,” Anatoly quipped. “But I trust him. He’ll take care of you.”

  Anatoly knew Nadei had messed up in the past, especially by sleeping with Briggy and having a child with her, but he had redeemed himself and was eager to do more to prove himself to the family. This was a way to do it.

  “I trust that whomever you send to help me will be exactly who I need,” Anastaysia said sincerely. At first glance, she was quite impressed with Nadei. He was a quiet, muscular man with serious eyes and a deep Russian accent, but something about him was very kind and protective. It was possible that they might even become friends, if given the opportunity.

  “Good, now get some rest. Tonight, if you feel like it, we’d love for you to join us for dinner. Royal goes crazy with these things. There is enough food to feed a small village.” After tucking her in, he turned off the light and left.

  Speak of the devil.

  Approaching down the hall with a tray of meds, water and salted crackers, Nadei headed toward Anastaysia’s room. He paused when he saw his boss emerging.

  “I see you’re already on the job,” Anatoly said, inspecting the tray.

  “Yeah, she’s in bad shape.” Nadei hated to state the obvious, but over the years he had come into contact with more than a few heroin addicts. Based upon the track mark
s that line Anastaysia’s arms and the sheer number of collapsed veins, he knew that her recovery would be long and hard. “I don’t know about you, but I feel like enough people didn’t pay.”

  Anatoly couldn’t agree more. “No, not nearly enough, but trust me when I say that we’re working on it.

  ***

  Bratislava, Slovakia

  Trinity Catholic Church

  As a sunny afternoon filled with blue skies and patchy white clouds faded into a cool summer’s eve of dark blue and gold hues, Marat stood outside the historic baroque Trinity church smoking his last cigarette and leaning with his foot against the side of the building as parishioners exited after daily mass.

  He bid a few church-goers good night as they passed by him with smiling faces, clutching their Bibles and headed for dinner. But mostly, he tried to look occupied as the police drove by.

  He had been milling around the square for hours now, watching the locals go about their routines from his small boarding room window above Trunk clothing store, playing Batman Angry Birds on his cell phone, even grabbed a delicious Slovak-styled obložené chlebíčky with hard boiled eggs, brie, smoked Gouda and local meats at the deli next door. He planned to get another one before the night was done.

  For him, getting away for even a day was a welcomed vacation that was more like having to sit through a time share to pay for his visit than setting up a hit. He was enjoying the peace of the trip and the serene atmosphere, most of all, he was enjoying the quiet. The last few weeks had been cluttered with chaos. When Anatoly sent him here alone, he gladly accepted the assignment and departed from Miami on a separate flight from his companions.

  But as much as he was enjoying himself, there was still work to do.

  Checking his watch, he flipped his menthol cigarette out onto the street and hiked up the stairs to the doors of the Church, opening it for a small group of young teenage girls who smiled at the attractive young Russian before rushing in to hear the missionary’s pitch.

  The same American man, who had recruited Anastaysia in Moscow, stood in front of a group of twenty young women and three young men with his PowerPoint presentation projected up on the wall. He had his million-watt smile working overtime as he went through the pamphlet about the opportunities available and the people who would be helped by simply signing up to be a part of the mission work in Haiti.