by Nic Saint
“What if he does? What if he doesn’t allow us to stay?” she’d wanted to know.
“Then we’re fucked,” said Roman laconically, and she’d had to swallow away her apprehension at this statement.
Now they were walking toward the house, Vitaly apparently having given his permission to stay under his roof, and she watched with trepidation as Dimitri directed an icy look at his brother. At least, she assumed this was Dimitri. She’d never before laid eyes on the man, but he was so much like Roman that there was no question of their relationship.
Like Roman, Dimi wore his dark hair long, and even their faces shared many of the same features. Dimi was younger, but only slightly less heavily built. She wondered, if these two were to go head to head, who would win. Dimi had perhaps the advantage of youth, but Roman had experience, and was bigger and stronger.
If she were a gambling woman, she would bet on Roman every time. Of the three enforcers who were now gathered on the porch, he was the biggest and baddest of them all. The fact filled her with an inexplicable pride. Even though he’d only brought her along because she wasn’t safe on her own, he did feel protective of her, which could only mean he liked her enough to care what happened to her.
It wasn’t much, but she would take it for now.
Strange, she thought, that a woman who’d always prided herself on her independence would come to depend on a man as much as she had. It didn’t sit right with her, but since there wasn’t much she could do about it now, she decided not to dwell on the fact.
As they approached the house, she saw a strange man with a round face dart anxious gazes from one burly Russian to the next, clearly apprehensive. He was carrying a bulky bag filled with books, and she wondered what his position in this extended family was. In passing, she noticed he was selling Bibles, apparently, and then she saw Dimitri gripping one in his hands.
Weird. She hadn’t taken the Loginovskys for churchgoers. But then again, there probably was a lot she didn’t know about the two brothers. A woman stood before her, dark red hair flowing freely down slender shoulders. She was touching a slightly distended belly, indicating she was with child.
This, she assumed, was the lady of the house. She extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Dora Liverpool. I’m with him.” She jerked her thumb at Roman, who was engaged in a staring match with his brother.
“Welcome to my home, Dora,” said the woman warmly. “I’m Joanna Loganov.”
“Thanks for putting us up,” prattled Dora gaily. “Roman and I ran into some trouble back in New York. First some woman tried to shoot us, then some guy.” She rolled her eyes. “It was a mess, I’m telling you.” She stared up at the front of the house. “Nice place you got here, Joanna. Have you lived here long?”
“Not too long,” said Joanna, darting a worried glance at the two brothers, their faces inches apart, still staring at each other without a word. Tension was crackling between them, and Dora thought they might start swinging at each other any second now.
“I love it,” she continued as if nothing was happening right beside them. “Close enough to town for all the conveniences, and still secluded enough to have some peace and quiet. It’s absolutely perfect.”
“We like to think so,” said Joanna absently.
Dora gestured at the woman’s belly. “When are you due?”
Joanna gave her a sweet smile. “Six months. Still a long time.”
“Soon you’ll have a house filled with the laughter of children. You’re such a lucky woman.”
Joanna smiled. “Yes, I am.” Then she turned to the two brothers with a frown. Vitaly, who’d stood watching them with a kindling eye, arched his brows. It said that the brothers would have to deal with their shit on their own.
Dora didn’t agree. She hadn’t come all this way just to see more men fighting each other. She’d had enough of that in New York. She stepped up to the glowering pair, planting her fists on her hips.
“Look here, you two. There ain’t gonna be anymore of this ‘Who’s got the bigger dick’ stuff around here, you hear? This is Joanna and Vitaly’s home and you’re both gonna behave like the good little boys you are, all right?”
For a moment, nothing happened, Roman and Dimitri locked into a death stare. Then Roman’s shoulders lifted, which seemed to indicate he’d heard her, but wasn’t ready to give in yet.
Dora had had it with these two. If there was one thing she couldn’t abide, it was this kind of male stupidity. She’d seen it on the stage so many times: cocky costars trying to outact one another. It simply infuriated her. The male ego, she knew, was probably the worst thing in the world, apart perhaps from war and famine. But then war and famine probably stemmed from the male ego as well, so there you had it. The problem of mankind in a nutshell.
Boldly, she stepped between the two men and pushed them apart. “Enough is enough, you hear? You two are gonna shake hands right now and apologize. You first, Roman. Tell your brother you’re sorry.” When Roman directed a piercing glare at her, she raised both her chin and her voice. “Now, Roman!”
After a moment’s hesitation, Roman muttered, “I’m sorry.”
Dora brought her hand to her ear and cocked her head. “What was that?”
“I’m sorry,” repeated Roman morosely, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance.
She walked up behind him and positioned him so that he was forced to look at his brother. “Now please repeat that, and this time look your brother in the eye, will you? God, you boys are so difficult! You’re worse than prima donnas!”
Roman pursed his lips and gave his brother a dirty look. “I’m sorry, Dimi.”
“Sorry for…” prompted Dora.
“I’m sorry for trying to kill your wife.”
“Good. That’s a start. Now you, Dimitri. Apologize to your brother.”
Dimitri raised his head, his lip turned up in a snarling expression. “I don’t need to apologize. I didn’t do nothing wrong.”
Dora sighed exaggeratedly. “That’s what they all say. Do it anyway.”
“Why?” challenged the recalcitrant Russian.
“Because I said so, that’s why!” cried Dora, not to be outdone.
Dimi’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment Dora thought he would hit her. Then a slim blond woman appeared in the door. “What’s going on here?” she said a little breathlessly. This was Ariel, Dora knew, the woman she’d been pretending to be these past few days. She looked even more gorgeous in the flesh than in the pictures she’d seen.
“I’m trying to get these two loggerheads to apologize to each other,” she explained. “And they’re giving me a damn hard time!”
The moment Ariel’s eye caught Roman’s, she staggered back, her lips forming an ‘oh’ that never made it past her throat.
“It’s all right, Ariel,” said Dimi. “Roman has come in peace. At least, that’s what he says.”
It wasn’t an apology, per se, but it would have to do, Dora knew.
“It’s true,” she told the scared-looking woman. “We’ve come in peace. As it happens, Roman is now running from the Mob himself. How’s that for irony, huh?”
Ariel, visibly confused, stared at her for a moment, before posing the eternal question every minor actress comes to fear. “Who the hell are you?”
Without missing a beat, Dora thrust out her hand. “Dora Liverpool. Broadway actress. Pleased to finally meet you, hon. I’ve been pretending to be you for a week now.”
Ariel didn’t seem too well pleased, for instead of pressing Dora’s hand, she folded her arms across her chest. “Have you now? I know you. You’re the one trying to lure out my father with your one million dollar reward, aren’t you?”
“Yep, that’s me,” said Dora cheerfully. “Though it wasn’t my idea.” She pointed to Roman. “This big guy here’s the one came up with it.”
“Actually, Dimi did,” countered Roman. “I just wanted to kidnap her.”
“Nice!” cried Dora. She then raised her eyes to
the sky. “Anyone know a good family counselor? I think we may need one eftsoons or right speedily.”
“I think you might be right, Dora,” muttered Joanna. “This is one dysfunctional family.”
A delicate cough had them all look up. It was the Bible salesman, and he was holding up one of his products. “I may not be a family counselor,” he began, “but the good Lord has an answer for every prayer, and they’re all right here in the good book. Yours for only 9.99, if you so feel inclined.”
A collective groan was his only reply.
CHAPTER 16
“No, Dimi. And no means no!”
While Dora had her hands full with Roman, Ariel was dealing with the second Loginovsky, and she wasn’t liking it one bit. Though Dimi and she had gone through hell, they’d finally found their little piece of paradise right here in Lincoln, and she wasn’t about to let this feud between brothers spoil it all.
Though she’d been averse to making Roman’s acquaintance again, she could now see that the man had changed. He wasn’t the same horrible monster who’d manhandled her back in that hotel room in Moscow. Nor was he going to hurt her anymore. After Dora had come down hard on him, he’d finally relented, and had apologized for his behavior.
“I’m sorry, Ariel. I was idiot.” He’d helplessly lifted his shoulders. “There is no excuse.”
She’d forgiven the big lug, and had accepted him as part of her new family. Dimi, on the other hand, remained stubborn.
“I won’t talk to the man and that’s final,” he announced. “He shouldn't have done the things he did and he knows it. I don’t even believe he’s really sorry! He’s in trouble now, with the same people who were after us, and has no way to turn. All he’s sorry for is that he lost his precious job and his life is now in danger.” He gestured to the next room, where his brother and Dora had taken up lodgings. “He wouldn’t even be here if not for his stupidity.”
Ariel sat perched on the bed, with Dimi straddling a chair, arms on the back.
“I want you to tell Joanna you won’t put up with this,” he tried again. “She has to throw them out. We can’t live under the same roof. It’s either us or them.”
“No,” she repeated. “I won’t tell Joanna to throw your brother out. He’s in as much danger as we are, and I won’t stand idly by while those goons you used to work for slaughter him and his girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend,” scoffed Dimi. “She’s not his girlfriend. She’s an actress, hired to play a part.” He pointed to Ariel. “Your part. Pretending to be you, trying to get at Nate.” He shook his head. “I won’t stand for it, honey. I really won’t.”
She rose from the bed and walked up to her husband, then placed her hands on his shoulders, and gently massaged them. She needed him to make peace with his brother, or else they would never find peace themselves. “You really need to reconcile with Roman, honey. I already forgave Dora. She told me she didn’t even know about Roman’s plans with my father. She was never included.”
“Well, perhaps she wasn’t, but Roman most certainly was.” He gave her a look of accusation. “Don’t you care that he tried to kill your father? Don’t you think he should pay for that?”
“If Dad can forgive him, so can I,” she countered. “And so should you.”
Dad had dropped by the house and had sat with Roman in the study for the longest time. She didn’t know what the two men had discussed, but when the meeting was over, her dad had declared that all was well. That they would work together now, trying to catch the men who were really responsible. Yuri and Vladimir Gornakov. Though they were far away in Russia, Nathan, with the help of Roman, would make sure their operation on American soil would be terminated. And this time, there would be no loopholes and no reprieves.
If only Dimi could find it in his heart to forgive his brother, things could finally return to normal.
She knelt before her husband, taking his hand in hers. “There’s something I need you to do for me, Dimi.”
His eyes softened as he brushed his fingers along her cheek. “Anything, Ariel. Anything for you, you know that.”
She brought his hand down to her tummy. “Pretty soon now, our family will be blessed with two wonderful babies. For my sake, and that of our children, it’s important that you make peace with your brother.” She shook her head when his eyes hardened. “I can’t do this with hatred swirling around our family, honey. I need peace and harmony, not this persistent tension. If you can’t bring yourself to forgive Roman…”
“What?” he said, worry lending an edge to his voice.
“I can’t stay here,” she concluded. “I can’t go into labor in a house filled with anger and recriminations.”
“Ariel, honey.”
“I won’t,” she stressed. “I’ll go and stay with Mom, and leave you to your feud.”
His eyes grew somber. “You would leave me?”
Her heart almost broke when she saw the sadness in his eyes, but she knew she had to be strong. For the sake of her family, she had to take a stand. “I can’t stay here in an atmosphere of hate, Dimi. Please understand that.”
He studied her for a moment, then abruptly stood, and walked to the door. She watched him stride out, then heard the knock on the door of the next room. Her heart constricted as she heard the door open, and a heavy silence hang in the air for a moment. Then, as she heard the words, she heaved a sigh of relief.
“Roman, I’m sorry. I… I’m sorry, bro.”
“It’s all right,” muttered Roman, his voice betraying his emotion. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You did nothing wrong, little brother.”
Ariel stepped into the corridor and watched the two brothers share a bear hug, their arms circling each other and giving such a squeeze she thought she could hear ribs creak and joints pop. Some hearty back-slapping later, the two men broke into a laugh, and as they trudged down the stairs, they reverted to their native tongue, the only thing she could make out the word vodka.
As she leaned against the doorframe, she watched Dora step from the room, her eyes glistening, and the two women shared a look of understanding.
Thank you, mouthed Dora.
She gave the actress a gentle nod.
Peace had finally returned to the home of Vitaly and Joanna Loganov, and they could start rebuilding their lives.
“I could use a drink myself,” announced Dora.
“Me, too,” agreed Ariel, then thought better of it. “Perhaps I’ll settle for tea.”
As the two women headed downstairs, she thought perhaps she might find a friend in this feisty actress after all. And when Dora looked up and gave her a radiant smile, it was obvious she was thinking the same thing.
“If it were up to me, I’d ground them for a month for behaving like two silly rascals,” Dora stated. Then she shrugged. “But seeing as they’re already grounded anyway, that wouldn’t do much good.”
They passed by the living room, where Dimi and Roman had discovered Vitaly’s drinks cabinet and were inspecting the stock, laughing and joking as if nothing had ever happened between them. The two women walked on to the kitchen, and Ariel, who was now used to living here, put on the kettle.
Dora, settling herself at the kitchen table, asked, “how do you manage? I mean, how do you live with a Russian gangster and not go totally nuts?”
Ariel smiled. “Dimi isn’t really a gangster. Or at least not anymore. He’s actually a very gentle man once you get to know him a little better.”
Dora eyed her closely. “So you two are really an item, huh?”
“Yes, we are,” said Ariel, then casually held out her hand, the ornate wedding ring Dimi had gifted her still her proudest possession.
Dora whistled through her teeth. “I’d heard you only got married out of some ruse or something?”
“That’s how it all started.” Ariel leaned against the stove and thought back to those first days in Moscow. “But before long, we discovered that we actually liked each other. One thing led to anoth
er…” She shrugged. “And here we are.”
Dora chewed her lip. “Roman and I also got married, you know.”
This surprised Ariel. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Same deal. Roman was supposed to be this big industrialist, and I was to play, well…” She gestured to Ariel. “You, you know. So we got married.”
She looked miserable, Ariel decided, and she recognized the symptoms. “I’ve seen the way Roman looks at you, Dora. He really cares for you.”
Dora’s shoulders lifted slightly in a gesture of despair. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think he does, then the next moment he’s cold as ice. It’s hard to figure out what he wants from me, exactly.”
“He’s taken you along, hasn’t he? He could have left you in New York.”
“He’s an honorable man. He would never do that. Which doesn’t mean a thing, really. He couldn’t very well leave me behind after what he put me through. But does he really care? Who knows? The man’s heart is as difficult to fathom as my horoscope.” She threw up her hands in a gesture of hopelessness, and her expressive face twisted into a comical scowl. “It’s a mess, I tell you.”
“Perhaps you should talk to him. Ask him what his intentions are?”
Dora let out a curt bark of mirthless laughter. “The man’s a clam, honey. No telling what he thinks.” Then she sighed and grinned. “Listen to me whining away. And here you are, pregnant and trying to find some balance in another person’s home. Don’t listen to me, Ariel. I’m just a big, old grouch.”
“It’s fine,” offered Ariel. “We all need a shoulder to cry on from time to time. I don’t mind being yours, Dora.”
Dora smiled. “That’s mighty sweet of you, honey, considering what I did.”
“What you did was out of ignorance. Let’s not talk about that any more. What’s done is done, and I hold no grudges against you or Roman, for that matter. What matters is that we’re all fine. For now.”
“For now,” echoed Dora, the look of concern on her face mirroring Ariel’s.
“Nathan’s coming in tonight. He’s called a meeting. Said it was time we faced facts.”
