Stepping off the jet and hiking down the steel staircase two steps at a time under the florescent lights of the enclosed space, Anatoly was greeted by his team assigned to Renee’s personal security detail while he was away. They were a hodgepodge of up-and-coming Vor roughnecks with broad backs, tattoos, beards and very bad behavior, hand-picked by Anatoly to exact hell’s retribution if needed.
They straightened up when they saw their liege. The boss was finally here.
With two black bullet proof Land Rovers parked beside each other ready to transport, the men lined up dutifully at the base of the plane, armed with fully automatic weapons and waiting for orders.
Anatoly walked up to the men and glanced over them, sizing them up and quietly accessing their collective edge.
Marat followed closely behind, silent and intense as normal. He too looked over the men, pleased that he had nothing to correct, especially since they were a direct reflection of him.
“Welcome back, boss,” one of the men said, offering Anatoly the keys to one of the bikes parked besides their vehicles, a helmet for his protection and his backpack loaded with weapons for his real protection.
One could never be too prepared.
“Thanks,” Anatoly said, taking the keys.
He flipped them around his index finger, eyeing the sleek, shiny motorcycle that flirted with his sensibilities. It had been a while since he had gotten to ride one, but he always looked for an opportunity.
Tonight, was perfect for a ride. There was a breeze in the late-night air, no clouds in the sky and a lot of frustration to release.
“Head back to the hotel and await my call,” he said, walking over to his bike.
Throwing a jean-clad leg over the machine, he felt the rush began. There was something about a motorcycle that made him feel completely alive. He tried it out first, checked out the equipment thoroughly and then turned on the ignition. The engine growled at him, begging to be tested. Sexy bitch.
“Is my wife at the house?” Anatoly asked, looking across the sea of faces trained on him. They gave him the same look that he had given his father when he was in their shoes, the look of wanting a chance to shine.
“Yes, she is with Boris and the other men,” Marat answered before anyone else could.
As Anatoly’s second-in-charge of security, it was Marat’s job to know everything, and he took his job seriously. “She’s been informed of your arrival and is waiting, boss.” His thick Russian accent grew more pronounced in his exhaustion. He mounted his bike with less enthusiasm than his boss, exhausted from travel, and turned the engine on.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Anatoly asked Marat, slipping on his helmet and putting the bike into gear. He was ready to get out of here. Pulling out of the hangar, he and his man raced out into the darkness, headed for his long, awaited reunion.
***
Washington Park
North Atlanta
Ashbury Street
This was the place where she had grown up as a little girl and eventually grown into a woman. This two-story wooden home on its corner lot with a huge oak tree and a well-tended lawn was her grandmother’s legacy.
Sitting in her little pink bedroom on the second level of her grandmother’s house, Renee looked around at the posters of New Edition, NWA and Michael Jordan taped against her wall and all the high school pictures of her friends still stuck on the inside of her old dresser mirror with a euphoric nostalgia.
So many good memories.
She remembered her fondest of times like senior prom and the day that she received her acceptance letter into college, and then the worst of times like hearing that her mother had finally passed away after years of toying with death.
No matter what the memory, however, Big Momma had been there for her, hugging her, praying with her, encouraging her and making a way.
It seemed unfair that Renee was now here alone in a place that had been synonymous with family. Her life was just getting started. There was still so much to share and experience. Alexandria was the love of her life outside of Anatoly, but she wanted her beloved grandmother to be there for the next baby, for the next big thing, and now that dream would never come true.
The tears wouldn’t stop no matter how Renee tried. She wasn’t sure if she was still in shock or just absolutely traumatized, but the only picture in her head was of her grandmother gasping for those last sweet breaths before she passed on and went to heaven.
Her grandmother had already told her that she wasn’t afraid, because she was going to be with Big Daddy and live eternity in the kingdom of Heaven. But Renee was selfish, not wanting the woman who had been the center of her universe to go anywhere.
It was a total nightmare.
Thoughts of earlier that day flashed through her mind.
She remembered the smell of the hospital room.
She remembered the slight chill in the air because of the air conditioner.
She remembered the sound of the nurses’ plastic clogs echoing in the hallway as they went about their daily routine while her grandmother suffered quietly in her room.
The clock slowed down in her reality.
The air was so sparse it was hard to breathe.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the elderly woman in her cotton hospital gown gripping the cross around her neck.
“Big Momma, we’re right here,” Renee had said, touching her grandmother’s arm gently.
But Big Momma couldn’t hear her. She was too busy writhing in pain, even after being administered pills to ease her suffering.
Renee was bent over the side of the hospital bed, where her grandmother could see her. She had been there so long in that position that her body was starting to ache.
“Big Momma, talk to me,” Renee had asked, when the woman started to babble incoherent words and gaze toward the ceiling.
She remembered her chest tightening, afraid that this could be it. And in that moment, she hated herself for not visiting more, not calling more, not telling her grandmother she loved her…more. She wanted it all back. She demanded a do-over. How is she supposed to survive? Who would she be without her? What was she supposed to do!
Then the time came and went. There was no build up or warning. It was sudden and quick. A blink of an eye. The thief came for his bounty. Collecting it before Renee could process the action, death took its soul and left.
The lines on the monitor went flat, her grandmother died, and she was being forced to watch.
“No!” Renee screamed, falling over into her grandmother’s chest. Her breath was gone but her body was still warm. She inhaled Big Momma’s scent as she nestled her head into her bosom. “Momma, don’t!” Renee’s cry turned into a gravely, guttural moan. She pawed at her grandmother, pulling her up from the bed and holding her lifeless body tight. Tears flowed in endless streams of inconsolable anguish. “Please don’t go. I need you. I need you! MOMMA!”
She was forced out of the bed when the doctors and nurses bolted into the room.
In her hysteria, Boris grabbed her before she could collapse on the hospital floor. Holding her tightly to his wall-like muscular body, she felt his tattooed hand as he soothed her, rubbing through her hair as he picked her up and made her stand, even in the face of true adversity.
Who would have thought that such a stoic man had a heart?
But he did, and she had captured a glimpse only briefly before he tucked it back away again. It made her only want her husband more. She needed Anatoly there at that moment to make her feel whole again.
During the chaos, her father was on the other side of the hospital room, standing still in his worn, tattered army fatigues with a blank stare on his face as he gazed at his mother’s lifeless body. He didn’t cry, didn’t speak, maybe even didn’t breathe, but he had dealt with PTSD for so many years until his reaction was expected.
Hers, however, was not. She knew that her grandmother was on her last leg, but when she witnessed her slip away, Renee lost it.
Now, she was in this big old house alone with only ghosts of Christmas Past to keep her company.
Like normal, her father was outside on the porch in the dark, finishing another brown bag clad bottle of Mad Dog 20 before he stumbled into the house and passed out in the den watching late night Cinemax. Even after his mother died, he remained predictable.
Boris and his men secured the perimeter – whatever that meant- while she roamed the rooms that used to be alive with laughter, waiting for tomorrow when her cousins, aunts and uncles would flood the house one final time before they buried the only woman who cared enough about her to be her surrogate mother. Her biological mother surely had not.
The infamous Helen Lane was too busy living life, getting high and running with friends to raise a child. She couldn’t be bothered with a buck toothed, big-eyed little girl with a thousand questions and an allergy problem.
Without a second thought after Big Momma offered, Helen had dropped Renee off here at this house when she was seven years old, never to return. Sure, she had visited when her busy schedule allowed, but that was never often.
I was better off, Renee thought to herself. The idea of being parented by that woman made her ass twitch, especially in her own right as a bit of a helicopter mom.
Helen couldn’t adequately take care of herself, let alone a young, impressionable child. Big Momma was doing them both a favor when she took her in all those years ago.
At that point at age seven, she didn’t even look like her father yet, and considering Helen’s promiscuous behavior, her father could have easily protested paternity, but he didn’t. For one thing, it would have taken time away from his drinking and secondly, he loved Helen too much.
After an argument at the corner grocer with her over child support she needed to get high, he asked Big Momma if Renee could stay with them for good.
A room was prepared, a life was saved and no one looked back.
Shortly after that, her father slipped into his alcoholism with passionate veracity and disappeared for years into the streets of Atlanta without a trace. He only remerged from his mania the year before she married Anatoly to reconnect with everyone, just in time to play a role in her life that could only be described as lacking.
But all of that, even Big Momma, was a part of the past now.
Getting off her white, four-post, full-sized bed, Renee meandered over to the window facing the street and pulled at the edge of the blinds, hoping that her husband would pull into the driveway soon.
Boris had told her earlier that Anatoly was due to arrive momentarily, but she wished that he had waited until a few minutes before he got here to update her. Since the news, she had done a constant window check, which only seemed to make the time go longer.
“Come to me,” she whispered anxiously. She needed her husband now. Right now. Even one more minute in this house alone would drive her crazy.
Before she could utter the words, she heard the distinct sound of motorcycles coming down the block, their engines echoing against the houses and rubber burning the asphalt. Normally, she would have been angry that he was on his death trap. But today her heart skipped a beat, and she held her breath until finally two bikes pulled up to the house.
Elation erupted.
“Ana,” she said, turning to run to him.
Her feet couldn’t take her fast enough. Butterflies exploded in her stomach, releasing adrenaline into her system.
Rushing out of her bedroom, down the long hallway full of family photos, down the wooden stairwell and out of the front double doors past Boris, she stopped at the concrete stairs of the porch and watched Anatoly dismount from his bike.
She tried to catch her breath and pull herself together, but all she could do was pant.
Feeling her presence, Anatoly took his helmet off slowly and inhaled the fresh air. A stream of sweat ran down the side of his face from the summer heat and mosquitos nipped at his muscular arms.
Looking dead at her, he smiled at his wife. His full pink lips stretched across his beautiful face and his diamond-like eyes gleamed in the darkness.
Their connection was electric even from afar, and it dawned on him how long it had been since he had properly taken her. Tonight, he would make up for lost time.
In a pair of black leggings that fit her shapely legs, black flats and a clingy cotton black T-shirt that stopped mid-waist, Renee stood under the moonlight with her long black tumbling curls in a side ponytail. The diamond earrings he bought her for her birthday beamed in the darkness along with her hope-diamond like wedding ring. With only lip gloss and a pair of black-rimmed glasses on, she looked like a little black angel, innocent and majestic.
And she was all his.
Renee ran down the stairs of the porch and flew into his embrace. Wrapping her arms around his thick neck, she pressed her body to his and shut her eyes tight.
“You made it,” she whispered, unable to get close enough.
The street light’s amber glow shined down on them. Crickets chirped all about as they stood in silence.
Anatoly held her and kissed the side of her neck. Her perfume floated up to his nose and stirred his senses. He inhaled all of her.
“Nothing could keep me away from you long, little mean girl.” He stepped back and saw the tears in the corner of her big brown eyes. “Don’t do that, baby,” he said, kissing her face. “It’ll be alright. I promise.” His voice was low and sweet like a lullaby.
“I’m just,” she stopped mid-sentence, exhaled and looked up at the starry sky, “really glad to see you.” It was an understatement, but it would do. Wiping a tear from her cheek, she glanced back at Marat. “Where is the entourage?” Even she knew Dmitry’s rules about traveling alone.
“Gave them the night off.” Anatoly put his hand on her lower back and guided her to the house. “Besides, I know how Big Momma hated a scene in her beloved neighborhood.” He glanced over at the next-door neighbors on their porch watching them and whispering like normal.
Ignoring everything around her, but him, Renee laughed despite herself. It had been the first time in many days. “Yeah, she would have said, Anatoly, get them boys off my street. Folks gone think we selling drugs over here.”
They stepped up on the porch together, and immediately Anatoly saw her father in the corner. Shrouded in darkness, he smoked a Newport cigarette and eyed his son-in-law with a scowl. The honeymoon of their relationship had worn off nearly a year ago when both men started to show their true colors. Anatoly was over-protective and her father was untrusting. It made for a bad mix.
“Looks like the gang is all here now,” her father quipped, mashing his cigarette into the ashtray. Eyeing Boris, Mart and Anatoly, he smirked and sucked his teeth audibly. “Larry, Curly and fucking Mo.” Pushing the smoke from his mouth, he picked his beer back up and gulped it down. He tried to sound as snarky as possible, but instead his voice only broken in pain.
“Daddy,” Renee rebuked. Now really was not the time for squabbling.
On quiet cue, Boris and Marat made themselves busy and left Anatoly to his family business. One went to check on the men who were standing guard behind the house and the other went inside to check the doors and windows for the night.
Normally, Anatoly would have reacted much differently, but considering the recent loss, he held his tongue. Plus, he knew the old man was just deflecting. If he could start something with him, then he wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that his mother had just died. So, Anatoly took the high road.
“Sorry for your loss, Jesse,” he said flatly.
Renee looked up at her husband’s stone face, proud of his restraint. She appreciated it more than he knew.
“Thanks,” her father said, turning his teary gaze toward the street. He wanted them to go away now before a tear fell and he seemed even more pathetic.
“Let’s go upstairs to my room,” she said, grabbing Anatoly’s hand and pulling him inside.
***
Every time that he came up to Renee’s cozy little room, Anatoly felt like they were naughty teenagers again and that he should have been sneaking in from the window after her family went to bed, instead of walking through the door. The place was like a time capsule with its pictures, teddy bears, greeting cards and such. He had never been with a woman like Renee, so normal and real. But coming into her old room made him remember who she was and where she had come from.
“So, did things go well for you in Las Vegas?” she asked, kicking off her shoes and pushing them under the bed. While she didn’t expect a thorough explanation from the world’s most elusive man, she did always ask general questions about his trips, and he normally gave her general answers.
“Da, it went well. I left papa and Gabriel there to wrap things up.” He set his helmet and backpack down on the bed.
Looking at her now in the light made her even more beautiful and the stir happening in his pants only confirmed it. He had not made love in weeks, leaving his body in an erotic limbo.
Renee was oblivious that he was even watching her. “I’m glad. You seemed worried before you left,” she pried a little more.
He narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I wasn’t worried about that.”
“What were you worried about?” Her head snapped up and she locked eyes on him.
Anatoly didn’t want to bother her with his problems right now. He shrugged nonchalantly. “Just other things.”
She hated when he closed off like that. He needed to open up. “Work things?”
“No.”
“Well, if it’s not a work thing, you should be able to tell me.” She put her hand on her hip and waited.
Anatoly could tell by her tone that she wasn’t going to let this go. “I was worried about my little sister. I haven’t heard from her since our arguments. It’s starting to get to me a little, I guess.”
Anatoly's Retribution: Book One (The Medlov Men 5) Page 9
