by April Lust
“Well?” I prod him on the shoulder. “When are we gonna get there?”
William smirks. “Like I’d tell you,” he says casually. “You might try to make a run for it as soon as we pull up.”
I roll my eyes. Of course, I’ve been thinking about doing just that. But there’s no way I’d admit that to William or anyone else.
I wonder where Beast is. I wonder if he’s hurt, or if he’s searching the house for me. Is he riding around on his bike looking for me? I wonder if he’s injured, if he misses the way I’d patch him up when he came home ripped open. Did they kill him the way they killed Reis?
It hurts. I never expected that. For so long, it was so easy to close my eyes and think whatever I had going on with Beast was just about sex. I’d lied to myself about my feelings for him and tried to act like I didn’t care at all.
Now I was starting to think the joke had been on me all along. I was a stupid girl for believing I could be involved with a man like Beast without developing feelings for him. This was all my fault.
If I ever saw him again, I would to throw myself in his arms and apologize and cry and tell him the truth: I’d fallen in love with him.
“She’s quiet,” the man sitting across from me observes as the SUV speeds up in traffic. We are finally back in New York City, but I don’t have the faintest idea of where I am going. It is all unfamiliar territory to me, and I had a feeling my father had probably done that on purpose. If he is anywhere near as dangerous as Beast thinks, he won’t want me to have any kind of advantage.
William grins. “You shoulda heard her screaming back at the warehouse,” he says. He looks at me and smirks. “You’ve really got a pair of lungs on you, Natalia. You ever think about switching from ballet to opera?”
I lick my lips and pout, determined not to give them what they want. These men were not going to get any entertainment out of me. I was just a job to them. And I know with certainty they’re not going to let me walk out of this situation.
I’m nervous, and it’s not just because of all the guns in the car. My feet are shaking in my shoes and my palms keep sweating no matter how many times I wipe them on the sides of my pants. I’ve been waiting my entire life to meet my father and now that it’s finally happening, I don’t know how to feel.
The SUV brakes to a stop. Before I can look out the windows and see where we are, William grabs me and shoves my head roughly down between my knees.
“Hey! Take your fucking hands off me!”
William digs his nails into the soft skin of my wrists until I cry out in pain. “I can’t fucking hurt you because your father’s waiting inside, but honey, know I want to,” William hisses in my ear. “You gonna be good?”
I can barely nod my head ‘yes’ because I’m so scared. Finally, the other men open the SUV doors and hop down onto the ground. Freezing cold air fills the interior of the car and I shiver, wishing I had more on than just a light top.
“Come on,” William says. He drags me towards the exit. “Let’s go. Abram’s waiting.”
William and Chubby grab ahold of my arms, then frog-march me inside of a building that looks like its seen better days. I still don’t know where we are. The sun is beginning to fade and the sky is streaked with pink and orange and purple. I wish I could stay outside, even though it’s so cold. It reminds me of all the nights when Beast left the warehouse with his men, and I’d sneak up to the roof and think of him. Even though I’d been his captive, those days seem so free in retrospect. All I did was eat and dance and make love with Beast. Now, those days seem like the best vacation I’ve ever had. It was the only time in my life where no one expected anything from me.
Beast had really listened and cared. He’d not only made himself someone I could really talk to, but he’d also made himself my friend. All those nights we stayed up together, talking about how our lives had been when we were young. I know it sounds dumb, but I’d really felt like I was sharing something important with him. In those moments, we were more than just kidnapper and hostage. In those moments, we were two adults, pouring our hearts out to one another.
And that wasn’t all, was it? I cringed at the sound of the voice in my head. No, of course, that wasn’t the whole story. That didn’t even come close to the nights of passion I’d shared with Beast. The nights where our bodies were locked together in a frenzy rhythm of lust. Those were the nights I knew I’d never be able to forget. Baring my soul in conversation was one thing, but baring my soul during sex was quite another. When we were united and he stared into my eyes, I was fully exposed, bare, and he accepted the woman he saw. I’m sure I’ll never be able to share that same kind of moment with anyone else.
When we’re inside the building, I start glancing around and looking for my father. He has to be here somewhere, right? I know it’s dumb that I expect him to leap out from the shadows and pull me into a hug. After all, he probably doesn’t even know what I look like. My whole body begins to tingle with anticipation as I wonder what kind of man Abram Pestov will turn out to be. Is he going to apologize for abandoning me all those years ago? Is he going to scoff in my face and tell me everything worked out for the best?
“Aren’t you excited?” William says sarcastically as he turns to me and stares deeply into my eyes. There’s something about him that sets me on edge. “You’re about to meet your dad, Natalia.” William grins at me. “I’d be excited if I were you.”
I swallow. There’s a lump in my throat, and I don’t feel like wasting any more breath on William’s insufferable small talk. Some balls he’s got, acting like he’s my friend while he’s heavily armed.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” I say nonchalantly. As delicately as I can, I rip my arms free from my captor’s grip. “Leave me alone.”
William shrugs. “All right, girlie. You got it,” he says. He winks at me. “You ready?”
I lick my lips. “I was ready twenty years ago,” I snap. “Come on, where is he?”
And that’s when he walks into the room. Abram Pestov, my father, the man who left me alone in Russia when I was a small child.
My first thought is that he looks old. My second is that he looks dangerous – as dangerous as Beast and his men. Abram walks towards me slowly. His hips jolt from side to side with the walk of an old arthritic, and his eyes are glowing.
He looks like me, too. I can see the same almond shaped eyes, the same brown hair. Mine’s still a rich dark brown, but Abram’s is shot through and streaked with silver and white. He looks distinguished. Even though he’s not the tallest man in the room, he’s got an energy with him that fills the whole warehouse.
“Natalia?” Abram says in a thick accent while taking a few steps closer. His eyes are trained on me, and I shiver under the unrelenting gaze. He’s doing more than just looking at me – he’s checking me out, patting me down to the seams of my clothing. He wants to make sure I’m not a threat.
“It’s me, Father,” I say. The words sound stiff and I cringe as soon as they’re out of my mouth. “It’s your Natalia.”
Abram steps closer. He pulls me into a hug, and I can’t help but feel shocked. This man is my father , I think cautiously as I wrap my arms around Abram’s neck. He smells foreign – tobacco and something spicy and hard around the edges.
“Natalia,” Abram says again. We pull away from each other. He takes my hands and squeezes them. “You’re beautiful,” Abram adds. “I never thought I’d see you again, my beautiful girl.”
I blush. It’s strange to hear such flattery from a man who may be trying to kill me. I haven’t seen this man since I was a child, and he doesn’t feel anything more like my father than William or Chubby do. I just always expected that if I ever met my birth parents, I would just know it. I would feel that they were my parents, as if nature and blood could guide me to them or send me a signal. But I feel nothing for this man. Be patient , I tell myself. You just met – it’s not like you’re going to have an immediate connection .
“T
his calls for celebration,” Abram shouts unexpectantly, which causes me to jump. I notice the way the other men in the room can’t tear their eyes away from him. He’s unquestionably the boss.
“You got it, Abram,” one of the men says. He grins at me, and I shudder. It’s the same guy who was seated across from me in the SUV, with the dark scruffy face. In the light, he doesn’t look any more appealing. His eyes are sunken into his skull and his skin is a disgusting shade of yellow. He makes me feel naked when he looks at me, and it makes my skin crawl.
When the man is gone from the room, I don’t know what to say. I feel like this should be a bigger moment. Abram and I should be jumping all around in excitement, telling each other about the things we’ve missed from our lives. But suddenly, I know that’s not in the cards. That’s not why I was brought here.
“I have a lot of questions,” I say to Abram, turning on my heel and folding my arms over my chest. “Don’t you want to hear anything I have to say?”
Abram nods. “Devochka, there’s going to be time for that later.” He smiles placidly at me and taps his chin with a finger. “We will talk,” Abram adds.
I swallow. His smile is frozen in place, and I shift my weight from one foot to the other. As I wait for Abram’s stooge to return, I glance around the room. It doesn’t look much like Beast’s warehouse – the walls are grimy and stained with lime. The floor is concrete with no carpet or matting. It feels, and smells, like a prison.
Still, I can’t help but feel excited. After all, I’m finally with one of my real parents! The thought gives me strength. Once this is all over, I realize I’m done with my adoptive parents. They only wanted me as something they could show off. Now that I have my real father around, what use would I have for them?
The thought makes me shake my head.
“What is wrong?” Abram steps closer. “Are you displeased, Devochka?”
I shake my head. “What does that mean?”
“It’s just something I always called you, my daughter, when you were small,” Abram says. He smirks at me. “Come, Aleksei.”
I watch as the man with sallow skin and stubble walks slowly back into the room. He’s carrying a tray with a bottle of what looks like water with red food dye inside. There are a handful of small shot glasses on the edge of the tray. As Abram watches, Aleksei carefully fills the glasses and passes them around the room.
“Natalia, this is for you,” Aleksei says. He hands me a glass filled to the brim.
Bringing it to my nose, I sniff cautiously. “What is this?”
“Vodka,” Abram says with a grin. “The very best Russian vodka. Flavored with cranberry. We toast!” Abram takes his own glass from Aleksei. He calls something in Russian, then touches his glass with mine.
As I’m about to pour the shot down my throat, Aleksei grabs my arm. The vodka almost sloshes out of the glass and all over my hand, but thankfully I’m graceful enough to make sure it doesn’t spill.
“Do not drink yet,” Aleksei hisses. “There is ritual. Ceremony!” He glares me, and I glare right back.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” I say loudly, turning and facing him. “You don’t get to order me around!”
Abram laughs deeply, “She’s definitely my daughter, isn’t she?”
The men all laugh on command and nod. Someone presses a piece of dark bread into my hand.
“Sniff,” Abram calls. Everyone in the room brings their piece of bread to their nostrils and inhales. Cautiously, I follow. It doesn’t really smell very good – just like pumpernickel bread.
Abram says something else in Russian, then throws the shot into his mouth. The rest of the men in the room follow suit, as do I. The vodka is so strong that I can barely taste it. If there were hairs in my mouth, they’d be singed off by the power of the alcohol.
Aleksei hands me a small pickle. I stare at it in confusion until I see the others nibbling and eating theirs. With a sigh, I eat mine. It actually tastes good, even mingled with the leftover cranberry flavor of the vodka.
“Okay,” Abram says grandly. He steps towards me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Now, we talk. Come, Devochka.” I follow him, well aware that every man in the room is staring at me.
Abram leads me out of the large room and down a cramped, narrow corridor. The ceiling is low and, at times, we both have to duck. There’s a big wire strung up along the ceiling that’s held by nails. It doesn’t look like Abram has been staying in this building for too long. Everything is obviously set up to be temporary.
The thought gives me chills.
Abram takes me into a smaller room. This, at least, is more intimate. There’s a fireplace in the corner with a roaring blaze and two wooden chairs perched in front of the flames. Gratefully, I lower myself into one of the chairs and wrap my arms around myself. I’m shivering, but I wasn’t even aware of it until now.
“So, daughter,” Abram says. He sits down in the other chair without taking his eyes off me. There’s something serpentine about him, something not quite human. Whereas people say that my almond-shaped eyes make me look like a doe, his have a sharp, beady look that bring a snake to mind. After studying me and evaluating, he asks calmly, “How are you?”
I sigh. How am I? As much as I want to snap back at Abram and curse him for abandoning me, I know the time for doing that has long since passed. I’m an adult now. It’s not like Abram could take back the years of loneliness and pain I’ve gone through. And furthermore, I’m not even sure I’d want him to do that. I’ve built a life for myself through my suffering. Had I not suffered, I’m not sure I ever would have made it as a ballerina.
“I’m doing well, I think,” I say with a small smile. “Except for those men you’ve got!” Rubbing my wrists, I shudder at the memory of being chained up in Chubby’s warehouse. “William and Chubby, they’re awful men.”
Abram smirks. My stomach twists when I realize that he knows all about how I was treated before I was brought to meet him.
“You are here now,” Abram says. He claps his hands together loudly enough to make me jump. A few seconds later, a man leans down with another bottle in his hands. Abram is still clutching his shot glass and the man fills it to the brim.
I wait for him to hand me a drink but he never does. “May I have a drink, too?” I twist around in my chair. This man, another one of my father’s numerous thugs, sighs. Finally, he hands me another shot glass. I wait for Abram to make another toast, but he stays silent. After a few seconds of holding the glass between my wobbling fingers, I toss the vodka down my throat. It doesn’t burn like the first shot. Instead I feel nice and warm, bubbly. The heat from the fire licks around my hands and feet, and I sigh, relaxing against the chair.
“We drink now,” Abram says comfortably. He takes the bottle of vodka from the man and dismisses him from the room. A heavy silence falls between the two of us, and I start fidgeting in my chair, feeling awkward. When Abram makes no move to open his mouth or pour a second drink, I reach for the vodka bottle and fill my glass again.
“A toast,” I say nervously, holding my glass out against Abram’s. He clinks and we drink once more. The third shot of vodka relaxes me to the core.
“So,” Abram says. “How have you gotten along all these years alone? You’ve been in America by yourself, and this must have been challenge for you.”
“I haven’t exactly been alone,” I say. Abram’s grammar is pretty good for someone who didn’t grow up speaking English, but part of me feels like I need to speak plainly or he won’t understand. I’ve always understood Russian to be a challenging language, and I’m not sure how adept Russians are at conveying their emotion. So much Russian seems to be action or thought instead of feeling…I wonder if Abram is even capable of having feelings in the first place.
“Well, you have been with family,” Abram says. “But not real family.” His lips curl into something that looks like a scowl in the dim light of the room.
“My adoptive parents,” I
say stiffly. “They took care of me. They made me successful. They made sure I graduated from school.”
Abram nods. He sips his third shot of vodka, not throwing it back all at once. I’m instantly filled with the sense of how controlled he is. He’s the kind of man who knows exactly what’s going on at any given time.
“And what else?” Abram asks. He clears his throat. “You have boyfriend? You have children?”
I shake my head. “No children,” I say after a moment. Thinking of Beast, my cheeks burn bright red. “I recently met someone, though. A man….”
Abram’s bushy eyebrows raise. “Oh?”
I nod, unsure as to whether or not I should tell him about Beast. After all, Beast was trying to kill him. And I know Abram can’t be ignorant of that. With a shiver, I wonder if I’m sitting with the man who killed my lover. “He’s kind of a criminal,” I say casually. “And I’m not sure what’s going on between us, but I’ve enjoyed it so far.”
