by Sophie Oak
Ivan laughed. “Dumb bitches,” he said in Russian. “American women are all sluts. Perhaps they will like what we do to them, eh?”
But Alexei didn’t think so. He got the distinct feeling that something was wrong. He moved along anyway, his mind whirling, seeking a way out until he knew there wasn’t one.
You’re the best thing I ever did, Alexei. That was what his brother had said when Alexei had asked if he minded giving up his chance to go to university. Mikhail had a promising future in the sciences before their parents had died.
He moved like an automaton toward the building Jennifer had told them would get them safely to the town hall.
A picture of his parents was in his wallet. It was hard to remember them sometimes, but they were smiling in the only picture that was left of the man and woman who had given him life. It wasn’t the only thing. He was left. He was still here, still could have a life.
His parents had been gentle people.
His brother had been the finest man he had ever known.
Who the hell was he?
“You’re crying.” Jennifer spoke softly as they walked.
He felt the tears slide down his cheeks. Fuck. How was he going to explain that to Ivan?
“Please.” The word was a puff out of her mouth, meant for his ears, his soul.
Please. Had Mikhail pleaded? Perhaps. He had a brother to raise. Mikhail would not have allowed pride to stop him. If he’d thought begging might help, he would have begged. The man who killed his brother had not listened.
Alexei turned the corner.
Who was he? A man like the one who took his brother’s life? For fifteen years, all he had thought about was revenge. For fifteen years, he’d told himself that he owed his brother this violence. What a fool he’d been. He owed his brother, his precious brother, a good, well-lived life. He owed his brother his honor. Unfortunately, he also owed the woman in his arms something.
One last act of violence.
Alexei turned, quick as a cat. The gun was up, and before Ivan could wipe the lecherous grin off his face, there was a loud report and a neat hole appeared in his head. The man he’d worked with for years fell backward and hit the ground, his blood blooming across the stark white of the snow beneath their feet.
Callie shot toward Jennifer. The women huddled together, each seeming to protect the other.
“He would have killed you.” Alexei lowered the gun. He could feel his face flushing.
“Thank you.” Jennifer’s arms were tight around her friend. “You should run. Our men will be here soon.”
He was done with that.
Three men burst into the alley, two with guns drawn at the ready. He recognized one of the men as Jamie, the cowboy the women had reviled. He felt himself smile a bit. Clever girls.
“You drop that gun or I’ll take your head off. Please give me a reason to take your head off.” The man in the lead seemed perfectly ready to do that.
“I got them here as fast as I could,” James said, looking at the women. His face was stark, and he was out of breath. Alexei wondered if the man had started running the minute he was out of sight. “I’m sorry I wasn’t carrying at the time. Walking away was one of the hardest things I ever did.”
“You did the right thing, James.” The head law official frowned at Alexei. “I’m serious. I want to shoot you. One of those women you were about to kill is my wife. Only the fact she’s watching me right now keeps me from blowing your ass away.”
“Please to not blows on my ass.” Alexei dropped his gun and held up his hands. “I wish to become defective.”
He could not go back to Russia. It suddenly struck him that he had something to bargain with. He had detailed workings of the Russian mob. He could tie Pushkin to American mobsters, even a few politicians.
He sank to his knees in the snow as the men walked toward him. Two in uniforms, shiny gold stars hanging on their shirts, were in front. They hadn’t bothered with coats.
“Nathan, that was rude,” Callie said, indignation dripping.
Alexei waited patiently as the married couple worked out their obvious disagreements concerning the treatment of prisoners. The husband frowned at the wife.
“Logan, pick up that gun,” the tall man with cold eyes said in a quiet, professional voice. His revolver was leveled straight at Alexei’s head.
“Yes, Sheriff.” The gangly, younger man first kicked the gun away, and when it was safe to do so, he reached down and picked it up, securing it.
“This one’s dead, Nate.” The one the women had called Jamie, or James, stared down at Ivan’s body.
“You all right, baby?”
It was the first emotion Alexei had heard in the sheriff’s voice. His eyes didn’t leave his prey, but there was the slightest softening of that hard-as-nails tone.
“I’m okay,” Callie replied. “Jen’s okay, too, thanks to him.”
The sheriff’s lips turned down. “I’ll wait to thank him. Logan, cuff him. We’ll get him back to the station and figure out just what the hell is going on around here.”
Jennifer stepped forward. “You can’t arrest him, Nate. He saved us.”
“It’s fine,” Alexei said quickly. “I will go with them. I will answer all questions. I would like to become a defective person. I have much helpful information.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
A man with dark hair stepped into the alley. It only took a moment for Alexei to realize this was Jennifer’s man. He could be in more trouble.
“Stef, everything is fine.” Jennifer tried to step forward.
“You stay right there, Jennifer.” The sheriff shouted the order.
Jennifer and Callie stepped back at his tone.
Alexei allowed Logan to pull his hands down, and he felt the cold metal snap around his wrists. He was in custody, his plans blown, his future in severe peril, but he hadn’t felt so light in years.
He turned to the two women he’d blown his revenge to save. He shook his head at the thought. In saving them, he’d finally saved himself.
“Thank you,” he said as the sheriff took his arm and began to lead him away.
* * * *
“I could make him defective really fucking fast,” Stef said, looking at the Russian through the bars of his cell. The urge to make the asshole sorry he’d ever walked into Bliss was riding him hard. His heart had been racing from the moment he’d realized Nate had left the building. Rachel had been the one to tell him what was going on. He’d been caught up in his discussion with the doctor when he’d heard the sound of a gun going off. He’d never been as afraid as he’d been when he heard that shot. He was going to start carrying a rifle with him wherever he went so he would always be prepared.
Hope, a sweet-looking, dark-haired woman, looked at Stef, her eyes going wide.
“Sorry,” Stef said. Hope had come into town a few months before and seemed shy and retiring. Though she was only twenty-five, she somehow seemed younger than her years.
She smiled shyly. “It’s okay. I’m getting used to it. The sheriff curses all the time.”
Nate looked up from his paperwork. “I certainly do not curse all the time. And I don’t think that’s what he meant, Stef. I think he’s under the false impression that the US is still on the lookout for defectors. Laura was right. Smart woman. She caught the other guy’s tattoos when he came into the Stop ’n’ Shop. It’s apparently code for these guys or something. I don’t know. I dealt with South Americans and homegrown assholes. The European mobster might be too much for my poor, backwoods sheriff brain.” Nate was far too calm. It was making him crazy.
Of course, Jennifer standing there and talking to the same man who had kidnapped her and worked for the man who planned to kill anyone in his way made him even crazier.
Stef had to turn away. He stared out the window where the snow was falling in thick waves, blanketing everything in a fine powder.
At least it was over. He forced himself to sit
down.
“Look, I’ve already put in a call to the feds. They can’t get here until tomorrow night because of the snowstorm headed our way. If he is who he says he is, he could be important,” Nate said all too sensibly.
Stef couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He’s a man who almost got your wife killed.”
After giving her brief statement, Zane had collected Callie and insisted she go home to rest. Nate had held her for a long time before allowing Zane to scoop her up and take her home. Stef hadn’t even had a chance to hug Jennifer. She’d been a bee, buzzing around everywhere. She’d sat with Logan while he took her statement. She’d held Callie’s hand while she’d given hers. Now, she sat talking to the same fucking mobster who had gotten her into the situation in the first place. She’d briefly smiled at Stef and told him she was okay before rushing off to find someone else to comfort or thank.
“Callie’s going to be fine,” Nate continues. “She’s strong. So is Jen. You’re the one I’m worried about. I thought you would be relieved this was over.”
He wasn’t sure it was. “Is it? We don’t have the painting in hand, yet.”
Nate’s eyes rolled. “Well, it couldn’t possibly be as easy as walking in and getting it. I blame Rachel. Apparently she preferred the blue painting. Nell said Holly sold the green painting, but she wasn’t sure who had bought it. Holly told her she was thrilled because it brought in enough money that it didn’t make sense to put it in the auction. Someone paid five hundred for the damn thing.”
Stef winced. He didn’t agree with Jennifer’s insistence on giving away her work. It was worth far more than five hundred. “And Holly doesn’t remember who gave her five hundred dollars?”
“Holly left to pick up her kid. He’s coming into town. She wanted to get him before his dad changed his mind. You know how she is about that kid.”
Holly would drop everything for her teenage son. From what Stef understood, her ex-husband kept them apart as much as he could. “Did someone check the receipts?”
Nate stared at him as though he’d grown a second head.
“Right.” Like anyone in Bliss was terribly concerned about receipts.
“Nell gave me the book. Whoever bought it paid cash and can’t write to save his or her life. I tried to make out the signature, but I apparently don’t read that language. Don’t worry about it. I’ll put out the word. We’ll find it.”
Nate sounded certain, but Stef wouldn’t be satisfied until that painting was out of their hair.
And then it would be over, and he would have to deal with the fact that he was going to lose her. He nodded to Nate and forced himself to sit down in one of the chairs in the waiting area.
Though he’d been the one to set in motion the plan that would separate them, Stef didn’t like to think about how fast it was all happening. He’d thought he had a bit of time with her. The wheels of the court system tended to grind slowly. He was certain he could get the charges against her dropped, but it would take time.
If what the Russian said was true, Finn Taylor could get the charges against her dropped by tomorrow morning.
“I did what you asked of me, Stefan. Are you sure about this?” His father sank down into the chair beside his. He watched as Jennifer laughed at something the criminal who had nearly killed her said. “You seem very taken with her. I might not understand your relationship with the young lady, but I can see plainly you care for her.”
He felt like he always felt around his father, slightly restless. It was as though the minute he occupied the same space as the man, Stef’s skin became too tight. He shifted in his chair, wishing he could avoid all of this, but he needed his father’s help on several fronts. They had talked about his plans early this morning before Stef had left. His father, apparently, worked fast. “I love her, Dad. I want what’s best for her.”
Just saying the words made him wish he could take them back, but he’d been compelled to spit them out. No one understood. Everyone thought he was being an ass when all he wanted was to do right by her. It was all he ever wanted.
“If you love her, why are you trying to send her away? I made the calls you asked me to. They’ll take her mid-semester. They’re counting her work with Renard as life experience. But, I don’t think she wants to go to Paris.”
Stef turned, and Jennifer was passing the man named Alexei Markov a glass of water. Every artist wanted to study at the Sorbonne. Jennifer couldn’t be any different. She would be surrounded by art and culture, and he would see that she lived in style. She could study and live a bit, and then if she decided to come back to him, he could believe her.
Why couldn’t anyone see that he was sacrificing his happiness for her?
“She’ll love it once she gets there,” Stef insisted.
His father’s eyes tightened in suspicion. “Are you planning on drugging her, son? Because I think that’s what it’s going to take to get her on a plane to Europe.”
She would go. He would see to it. She would certainly see reason. She couldn’t grow as an artist here. She couldn’t see the world.
His father leaned forward. The lines on his familiar face creased further as he frowned seriously. “Stefan, this is one of the reasons I came back. I want to talk to you about so many things, but this one in particular. You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened between me and your mother.”
He shook his head. “What are you talking about? I don’t blame myself.”
Sebastian snorted lightly. “Fine, then I would like for you to stop blaming me.”
“This is not the place to have this conversation.” He kept his voice low. The last thing he needed was more gossip.
His father didn’t seem to have a problem with it. “Well, you don’t seem to think there is a place for this conversation, so I’ve decided to have it out here.”
Like he needed this right now. “Fine. I don’t blame myself, and I don’t blame you. I lay the blame squarely on the shoulders of my mother. She’s the one who decided to leave us in order to pursue a career in acting. She’s the one who walked out.”
His father leaned in. “She was very young. I knew that when I married her.”
“Then why did you?”
His father seemed to think for a moment. “I was in love with her. I married your mother when she was twenty-four years old. Back then, that wasn’t really so young. I was older, of course, but I knew I wanted her the minute I saw her.”
Stef felt his whole soul drag. He knew that story. He’d wanted Jennifer. He’d known that first morning she’d walked into Stella’s looking for him that she was special. He’d been fighting the feeling ever since.
His father had a wistful smile on his face. “I judged a beauty pageant. She won.”
It should have been a clue. Sebastian Talbot had made a mistake that Stef didn’t intend to make. He’d seen trouble coming and walked headlong into it. “Did she talk about her dreams for the future then?”
“Oh, no,” Sebastian replied with a shake of his head. “She was set on getting married and having a family. Your mother was a lovely, funny, bright woman, but she was always mercurial. She changed her mind all the time. She was like a butterfly flitting around. I should have known, but I was young, too. I thought I could make her happy, and then you came along. I was sure she would settle in.”
It was hard to remember his mother. When he saw her in his head, it was always in still form, as though he was looking at a photograph. She was beautiful and distant, always distant. She’d been that way even with his father. “She needed more than marriage and a family could give her. I think it’s like that for talented women. They need room to grow. Tell me something, Dad, do you think it would have been different if you had met her at a different time? Say, when she was older?”
His father laughed, the sound amusing but with a sharp edge. “As your mother has gone through three husbands since me, I doubt it, son.”
He turned to his father, utterly startled at the announc
ement. He’d known that she hadn’t had the career she’d planned. He’d googled her in the past, but he’d imagined her as happy and working. “Three husbands?”
His father held his hand up, indicating the number four. “Don’t forget me. I was the first. Her current victim is a nice retired lawyer.”
Stef felt the foundation of his world shift a bit. “How would you know? Are you telling me you kept tabs on her?”
“Not exactly. She contacted me a while back. I think it was right after she tried to get in touch with you and you rebuffed her.”
He felt his face harden. He hadn’t rebuffed the woman. He hadn’t done anything at all. He’d simply not responded. He’d thought she’d taken the hint.
His father’s hand came out to pat his shoulder like he had when Stef had been a child. “You’re her only child. She realized she wasn’t maternal, so she was careful. But as you get older, you feel the need to reach out, to make things right. She backed off because she didn’t want to hurt you more than she had. She called me to ask about you. She came into town a few weeks later and we met for lunch. We’ve become quite good friends. I wish you would talk to her, but I understand it’s hard for you.”
A nasty suspicion seized Stef’s gut. “Did she know you were sick?”
His father’s face flushed. “Yes.”
“But you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you.” He took a long breath, seeming to come to some kind of decision. “That’s not true. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid. I was afraid it wouldn’t worry you at all. I was afraid it wouldn’t mean anything to you. It’s recently come to my attention that I’ve been a coward most of my life. I should have called you, but I didn’t. Getting on that plane was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, son.”
He didn’t understand his father at all. “Why?”
“Because I had to face the worst mistake I ever made.”
Now Stef was the one flushing. Well, he’d always known that was true.
His father reached for him. “You’re not understanding me. It wasn’t a mistake to marry your mother or to have you. My mistake was in leaving you behind. Stefan, I should never have allowed us to be separated.”
