by Monica James
“Can I take a shower?” she asks, the fear in her voice evident.
Nodding, I’m about to leave but decide to take my bag, the one with my money and weaponry with me. Ella reads this for what it is. Until we know what we are to one another, we’re enemies.
The front door opens, and I hear Pavel greet his mother.
I leave Ella to gather her thoughts and make my way into the living room. When Pavel sees me, he shakes his head at my stupidity. Larisa leaves us alone.
He sits in the armchair, hinting he is listening, and I detail everything. From meeting with Santo and finding out about Ella, to Serg storming the orphanage with Renata in tow. When I tell him he has Irina and what he intends to do to her if I don’t comply, Pavel cracks his knuckles.
Cruelty toward children is Pavel’s breaking point. He knows how much she means to me.
But when I detail the last piece to the puzzle about Willow and Saint visiting, he sighs in frustration. “Why didn’t you read it?” he asks, baffled.
“I don’t know,” I reply, any hope of him reading it before me being shot to hell. But I knew that he hadn’t. It doesn’t concern him; therefore, it’s none of his business.
“Aleksei, this is bad.”
Running a hand down my face, I nod. I know what he’s going to say even before he speaks.
“You have to give Santo what he wants.” His grim words are what I know makes sense, but every shred of my being fights against that notion.
“I know you don’t want to, but if you don’t, so many people will die. He will not only kill Willow, but he will ensure she suffers in ways that are unthinkable. He knows how much she means to you, so he will draw out her torture, knowing what it’ll do to you.”
Clenching my jaw tightly, I taste the sharp metallic sting of blood, but that pales in comparison to the stab wound which I crudely wrapped to stop the bleeding.
“So essentially, I have to choose? Who means more to me; Willow or Ella?”
Pavel shakes his head slowly. “No, my friend. You must choose between one life versus the lives of many.”
And that is the truth.
I save one person, only to condemn the lives of so many innocents who never wanted to be involved in my mess. Ella knew who she was saying yes to when Frank proposed. She knew he was a bad man. She told me so herself.
But for her to pay for the mistake with her life doesn’t seem fair. And for me to be her executioner seems more than hypocritical.
“Can we find Willow? You must know someone?” I beg, uncaring my desperation shows.
“I can try, but you know Saint. He will not make their arrival an easy one to detect. He will move heaven and earth to keep her safe. Your best option would be going to Santo,” Pavel states the obvious.
“Pavel, he will kill her,” I say, lowering my voice as these walls are thin.
He is unmoved. He merely sees Ella as a liar, regardless of her circumstances. But I can’t condemn her to a death she doesn’t deserve.
“That son of a bitch said I have one week, which means if he’s telling me the truth, Willow and Saint will be here before then. We have one week to find them.”
“And if we don’t?” Pavel poses.
“We cannot fail,” I reply with resolve.
“The lives of so many people are relying on you, Aleksei. What Serg proposes to do will succeed if we fail. The lives of those children and the children after them will forever be ruined because we didn’t take the path we both know we should.”
Lowering my eyes, I try to swallow past the guilt lodged in my chest. I may have washed the blood from my hands, but they’ll forever be stained with what I’ve done.
“I understand, but she doesn’t deserve that. There has to be another way.”
“I’ll try my best. I’ll make some calls. In the meantime, you need to come to terms with the choice that you make. Just be sure it’s the right one.”
Pavel has no connection to Ella, so handing her over to Santo is the obvious choice. But my stomach twists in knots at the thought.
Pavel gestures to the bag at my feet. “Shall I put that in the safe?”
Unzipping the duffel, I retrieve my Glock and my knife and then slide the bag across to him. “Take some money and give it to your mother for her troubles.”
Pavel nods, zipping the duffel back up.
Standing, I place the gun into the small of my back and the knife goes into my pocket. I need some fresh air.
Pavel looks at me, his surprise clear. I know why.
“She won’t run,” I assure him.
“And if she does?”
“I’ll deal with it,” I reply, angrily. His questions are reflective of my fears, and I need some time to process this before I decide what to do.
Pavel knows when to pull back, and now is that time.
Opening the front door, I inhale deeply when I walk down the stairs, welcoming the cool night air. I have no idea what time or day it is. What I witnessed at the orphanage feels like a lifetime ago. Thoughts of Irina wind me, and I hiss sharply, rubbing over my chest.
Opening my car, I retrieve the last cigar and my lighter from the glove compartment and walk to a place that crosses my mind at least once a day. My steps echo in the vast silence. No matter the time of day, it’s always so quiet out here.
Some may say it’s peaceful, but to me, it’s just heartbreaking.
Lighting the cigar, I use the full moon as my beacon and head for the tree which stands out from the rest not just for its size, but because Sara and Zoey lay buried beneath it.
Memories of Saint laying his sister to rest still haunt me. He was the strongest man I ever knew, and to see him dig Zoey’s grave, tears streaming down his cheeks, I couldn’t help but feel indebted to him for the rest of my life.
I was the cause of her death. For all their deaths.
Once he said a prayer over her freshly dug grave, he turned to me and knocked me out cold. He never uttered a word to me; he simply gave me what I deserved and left. And that was the last time I ever saw him.
Willow had left, too, on a plane, safe passage back to America. I was pleased both could leave because they never wanted to be here. I forced their hands.
Sara was buried beside Zoey. Her grave dug by Max. He too left and never returned once Sara was given the send-off she deserved. I organized the angel marker for Ingrid because although I didn’t have a body to bury, I still wanted a place to commemorate who she was.
Standing before their graves, I smoke my cigar, numb. Being here is a reminder that when we die, we are nothing but a memory to those who wish to keep it alive.
Pavel took care of the carnage that we left behind that night, but regardless of what they’d done, I ensured Oscar and Astra were put to rest in their family plots. They were the villains, but so was I. I would be a hypocrite if I thought of myself as anything but that.
Looking at Zoey’s simple grave marker, I can’t help but see her in Renata. Serg has copied every aspect of my life, and now that I’m on the outside, it disgusts me. At the time, I had no problem leaving Zoey on her knees as I had my way with two or three other women at a time while she watched, riddled with envy.
But she never complained. She knew her place.
This was another way for me to break someone who was already so broken.
“Hi.”
Ella’s voice reveals how hesitant she is. But she is here because we can’t avoid the inevitable.
“Hi.”
Her tentative footsteps sound behind me until she stands next to me. I continue smoking my cigar, eyes focused on the three markers in front of me. Ella’s silence is uncomfortable. She doesn’t need a handbook. She knows these three women died because of me.
But I still want to honor them. And speaking their names is my way to do that.
“Zoey was such a spirited woman,” I say with pride. “It was one of the many things I liked about her. All she wanted was to please me. And she did. Even when she clai
med to hate me, I know she loved me. Our bond was unique.
“I know that won’t make any sense to you, but I did care for Zoey…in my own way.”
Ella is quiet, but it’s only fair I share with her as she did with me.
“Sara was given to me to pay off her father’s debt. He was a substance abuser, and when he racked up quite a debt, he offered me his daughter as payment.”
“Why would you accept?” Ella asks, horrified.
“Because if he would offer her to me, he would offer her to anyone, and I knew I would treat her with a shred more compassion than anyone else would. In my world, it was a fair trade. However, I understand to most, it’s seen as barbaric.
“Ingrid belonged to my friend Oscar,” I explain, expelling the ghosts of my past. “I was enamored by her the first moment I saw her. I shouldn’t have, but I acted on those impulses. I suppose a part of me wanted what I couldn’t have.
“She was truly kind. Gentle, like a baby bird. But in the end, that baby bird emerged from the fire a phoenix. Her sacrifice saved us all. And the only way I can thank her is to lay this marker down, cementing her existence in this world.”
Savoring my cigar, I blow the smoke into the wind as I confess, “This is my personal graveyard of sins. I played a part in all their deaths. Although Renata sealed her fate tonight, I don’t feel good about it.
“She was molded by my half-brother into what he wants. He preyed on her, just as I’ve done to these women.”
“So Renata was working with him all along?”
Slowly turning my cheek, I look at Ella, completely struck by her beauty because she is out of her habit. She wears a green dress, her long hair damp, sitting in a high bun. Her face is void of makeup bar a pink gloss on her lips. Her feet are bare.
She is simply breathtaking.
Seeing her this way will take some getting used to. But the habit was her costume, not these casual clothes.
“Yes. I played right into her hands. I brought Mother Superior, the sisters, and Irina into my mess, and I need to figure out a way to get them out.”
“And what about me?” she whispers, those poignant eyes begging for mercy.
Sighing, I turn back toward the graves. “What would you do if you were me?” I pose my situation to her, wishing her to understand the position I’m in.
“I would do everything in my power to save the people I love,” she softly replies moments later. “And to do that, you need an alliance with someone as powerful as Santo.”
She knows what this means for her, yet she doesn’t back down.
“He will kill you, Ella,” I state, my attention flicking among the three women I let down because my selfishness couldn’t protect them. “But Serg, he will kill so many—”
“I know,” she interrupts, her voice heavy.
“I don’t want to do this. I have one week to come up with a plan. If not, well, you heard what Serg will do. If Willow is at risk—”
“You really love her, don’t you?” she asks, shuffling her feet.
Without hesitation, I nod. “I really do. I don’t love her the same way I once did, but my feelings for her will never disappear.”
“And what about me? How do you feel…about me?” Her question almost takes flight in the wind with its softness.
But I heard her.
“I know you don’t trust me because I lied to you, but do you believe me?”
Before the blackout, Ella had divulged the sins of her past. I listened, unsure what I believed, and the truth is, I still don’t know. Her tale could have been spun to save her skin. Or it could be the truth finally setting her free.
Turning to her once again, I wish I could make this better for us all. But this isn’t a scenario where we all win. One of us will lose.
“I don’t know,” I admit with regret. “I wish I could, but it would be foolish of me to trust you.”
She conceals her sadness, her walls going up as she folds her arms across her chest. “I suppose the same applies to me then. I would be foolish to believe you won’t give me to Santo.”
With a smirk, I reach out and cup her cheek. She barely suppresses a shiver. “Yes, it would be very foolish of you to trust me.”
With fire behind her eyes, she recoils from my touch and leaves me in a place where I belong to be alone.
I must be dreaming because when I wake, I could have sworn I heard the door closing on my SUV. It’s still dark out, so I imagine I’ve only had a few minutes of sleep. Groaning, I reach for my cell and see that it’s a little past three.
I’m about to roll over and attempt to go back to sleep, but when I hear a clicking, I realize I wasn’t dreaming at all. Not looking at the bed because I know what’s happening, I quickly put on pants but don’t bother with a shirt or shoes as I sprint out of the bedroom. I’m out the front door in seconds.
The blood races through my veins as I see Ella sitting in my SUV, attempting to start it. When she sees me, her eyes widen, then she slams down the lock. She thumps her palm on the steering wheel when the engine continues to kick over, refusing to come to life.
Her scream echoes out here because it’s just us.
I thought I was being paranoid when I removed the spark plugs, anticipating this happening. Just in case, I assured myself, but now that I see Ella trying to flee, I realize any faith she had in me is now gone.
“Get out of the car, Ella,” I coolly order, standing in front of the hood.
The moon is full, so I can clearly see her hatred. In response, she fruitlessly attempts to start the engine again. I admire her perseverance, but the longer she defies me, the angrier I become. I don’t have a spare set of keys, so if she doesn’t open the door, I’m going to have to force her out.
She watches as I search the yard for a rock big enough to smash the window. I couldn’t care less about my car. So I walk to the passenger window, rock in hand and don’t hesitate as I shatter the glass. Ella yelps and jerks away, avoiding the spray of tiny fragments.
Reaching into the empty window frame, I flip open the lock and yank open the door. Gripping the frame, I stare at Ella, my anger highlighting how much trouble she’s in.
She backs up until she’s trapped against the door, unable to move another inch.
“Scared little rabbit,” I hum, leaning forward, still gripping the frame. “You didn’t think I’d let you get away, did you?”
She licks her lip nervously.
“I wouldn’t make it that easy for you. Get out.”
“Screw you.” Ella unlocks the door and flees from the car, running for the woods.
Sighing, I push off the frame and give chase. She has no idea where she’s going, which makes this all the more fun.
“Come back here!” I demand, hot on her tail.
She takes a hard right, which leads to a steep cliff edge. If she continues running and doesn’t pay attention to her surroundings, she’ll fall of the unseen edge.
“Ella!” I call out. “Stop.”
But she only runs faster.
My heart is suddenly in my throat at the possibility of her being hurt, so the motivator of the chase soon turns from punishment to saving her life.
She is heading straight for the edge, which can’t be seen thanks to the thick foliage and the night sky. Just as she’s about to jump over a fallen branch, I tackle her from behind, sending us both to the ground. She thrashes wildly, attempting to break free, but I flip her over and pin her with my weight.
“Get off me!” she bellows, using her fist to pummel my bare chest.
“Stop fighting me! I just saved you from falling off the edge.”
My words have her fight dying as she arches her head backward, attempting to see if I’m telling the truth.
“Save me?” she scoffs, returning her attention back to me. “I heard you talking. You’d do anything to save them. To save her.”
Tsking her, I grip her wrists and jerk her arms over her head. “Yes, I would. And you’re making my de
cision easier by behaving this way.”
“What way?” she asks, eyes narrowed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “By trying to save my life? You’ll never choose me over them, and that’s okay. I understand. I’m only one person.”
She stops flailing, her anger eclipsed by sadness.
“I’ve never been anyone’s priority,” she shares. “I’m there to merely fill in time until something better comes along. That’s why I said yes when Frank proposed to me. I knew he was a bad man, but for the first time in my life, someone wanted to put me first.
“My parents moved on with their lives when they divorced, forgetting they had a daughter. I learned to fend for myself early on, but that doesn’t mean I was okay with it. I had no other choice. Sink or swim, and I refused, I refuse to surrender.”
Her words, her passion feed me, and the hunger I constantly feel for her consumes me whole.
“But meeting you changed everything I worked so hard to achieve. I tried to push you away when I said horrible things to you. I knew you were bad news, but I just didn’t care. You made me…feel something I’ve never felt before. You made me feel wanted and not just in a physical way.
“When you look at me, it’s like you feel whatever this is between us too,” she confesses, turning her cheek, ashamed. “But it’s stupid of me to think someone like you could feel that way about me.”
“Someone like me?” I ask, her admission doing nothing to ease the racing of my heart. I grip her chin softly, coaxing her to look at me, and when she does, I fall deeper under her spell.
“Someone who can have anyone they want,” she reveals. “You think you break people, but in reality, they’re already yours the moment you meet. You’re magnetic, and you don’t even know it. You’re a villain…who has a heart. And what woman doesn’t want to try to fix a bad man?”
Her body grows slack beneath mine, but her heart gallops wildly.
“Why wouldn’t I want you, красавица?” I question, her words touching me in a way I never thought possible.
Her eyes glisten with tears. “Because it doesn’t make sense for you to want me,” she whispers, professing her fears. “I’m nothing but a damn fool who always falls for the wrong man.”
