by India Kells
“No, turning your back on your family is. Especially now, when we’re almost at war with the Wayfarers. You have an alliance with Evans? After all that’s been done for you? What do you want, Vicky?”
“To be left alone! I want you, Mex, and the entire Rows to forget that I exist. From now until the end of time. Whatever happens to Mex, I don’t want to be trapped in the crossfire. Do you know why I’m here, Morgan? I don’t care if the man who calls himself my father lives or dies. I’m doing it for my mother and for Johnny. So, I can stand at their graves and tell them that I’ve done right by them. A war is brewing! Whether Mex lives or dies, I’ll side with Evans. Am I right or wrong, I don’t really care. I’ve made my choice. I’m not going back to the MC, or the underworld. Ever.”
As the words left her mouth, it crystallized what she already knew all along. It was undeniable that she loved Aleksei, more than she ever loved any man in her life. But she couldn’t dive back into this world. Just being affiliated with a man so closely tied to the Bratva would require a lot from her too. She was done submitting against her will, forced against everything she stood for. Another time of mourning. In that instant, as she looked at the man she had known all her life, almost as long as her father, deep down she knew there was no other alternative.
Morgan exhaled softly, smoothing his beard with his thick leathery fingers. “I wish I could make you see the trouble you are causing, Vicky.”
“If you leave me alone, there won’t be any trouble, Morgan. I’m no longer the frightened girl who faked her death to flee a civilized form of slavery. I have connections, friends, people who owe me favors. Remember that, Morgan when you return to the Rows and when all you stubborn males try to decide my fate like Neanderthals.”
Lance snickered beside her, but she trained her eyes on her father’s best friend and influential member of the Rows.
After a while, Morgan finally nodded, sorrow on his face. “I’m sorry you feel that way. We all love you very much, sweetie.”
Deva sighed. There was no possible way to make them realize that their type of love was wrong. She was convinced that Morgan thought, deep down, that he was right.
When Morgan got to his feet, Deva followed suit, sorry for the man. She had known Morgan since she was a toddler. He had a more accommodating, friendlier nature than her father. She could hate Mex as much as she wanted, but not Morgan.
She took the older man in her arms, and he returned his affection the same in a fierce bear hug. “Take care, Morgan.”
“You too, sweetie pie.”
And as he disappeared around the corner, a doctor arrived in the room.
“Are you the family of Mr. Johnson?”
Deva stepped forward. “I’m his daughter.”
The doctor came toward her, and she knew immediately that her father had died. A void expanded in her chest. She was alone now. A chapter had closed. Ready or not, despite the sorrow and the tears.
Straightening her back, Deva knew that the only way was to go forward from now on.
Chapter 36
It was weird how mourning came in so many shapes and forms. Mourning a person, mourning the past, who we were or could have been.
Deva had released her father’s body to Morgan. She could have managed the funeral if it had been small and intimate, but the death of a leader such as him required extensive celebrations, parades, huge halls to welcome other MCs. It wasn’t what Deva wanted to be part of.
In fact, she relinquished all of that, and only requested one thing. She wanted a minute, alone, with her father’s body. Before the official viewing, before everybody arrived. Morgan agreed, and she had an hour alone with her father. For an hour, she talked to him, to his still form in the coffin, that was dressed in his MC colors and patches. Opening her heart and soul to him for the first time, certain now that he would listen to her. Deva knew it probably looked futile, but to her it was important. The little girl inside her wanted her daddy one last time. And the grown woman needed closure.
After tears, laughter, shouts, and curses, her soul settled until she found herself at peace. Much danger was to come, as the replacement of an MC president came with blood and violence, but it wasn’t her concern anymore.
Damon even called her to make sure she was okay. A sweet gesture, but also one of an MC president preparing for what was coming next. She was grateful for Damon’s help and wouldn’t forget it. However, whatever came next wasn’t hers. As the only living Johnson, and being female, the power wasn’t in her hands anymore.
And at nights, when she was alone in her small North Side apartment, heart-wrenching tears could finally flow. She grieved for her father, but for so much more. The love she couldn’t have, the man who haunted her dreams and possessed her heart. All the what-could-have-beens.
Time passed, and after a quick and ruthless bloodbath in the city, relative peace seemed to have returned to Chicago. Finch’s plan had been defeated, and despite all the pain still inside her, it was worth it.
On her way to meet Beatrice one last time, Deva looked up at the city and felt adrift, hoping another sign would make her next decision clearer.
When she entered the trendy restaurant in the West Loop, where Beatrice and Gabrielle had invited her, Deva immediately saw the two women in the far-left corner, near the window. And to her surprise, Lazarus was with them.
Beatrice took her in her arms in a strong hold. “Are you alright, Deva?” It would have been so easy to dissolve into tears right there, but she fought against them, instead offering a smile to her friend.
“I’m fine, Bea, or getting there at least.”
Gabrielle was next to kiss her cheek before releasing her to Lazarus. The man normally so closed off, gave her a quick hug before kissing the top of her head.
“So glad you are okay, Deva. Please, take a seat.”
The restaurant was awash with sunshine, and as soon as she was seated, a perky waitress came to announce the specialties and recommendations. Food was so far from her mind, Deva pointed at a few things and hoped that it was something from this earth and palatable.
Once the waitress had gone, she couldn’t help but turn to Lazarus.
“Do you have news from Sasha? I’ve tried to reach her, call her, but it’s as if she has vanished.”
Lazarus’s jaw tightened, his gray eyes, identical to Aleksei’s, darkened.
“After her rescue, I hid her in a safe house, somewhere she could feel safe. Where she could rest, heal... I had to come back here to deal with the fallout from the mission. When I returned, she was gone. I’m sorry, Deva. I should have watched her more carefully. And now, I’m worried about her.”
Even if the poor man was twisted about it, part of her was somewhat reassured. “Don’t be, Oz. I know Sasha. What she went through, a few years ago, is not my place to tell, but it’s way more traumatic than what you can imagine. More than what happened with Semyon. What I can tell you is that one of her ways to cope was to disappear. For a while at least. Don’t worry, she will come back when she’s ready.”
It was obvious her words didn’t appease his worry, and Deva wondered what had happened between them.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the waitress came back with their drinks. Deva took a sip of her wine, not tasting much. Sensing the attention of her friends on her, she decided to deflect.
“I heard that most syndicates have followed our advice. But what I want to know even more is if you have news about Jamieson Finch. And what is he up to now?”
Lazarus shook his head, and Gabrielle rolled her eyes, but it was Beatrice who answered her question.
“We don’t know for now. He seems to have disappeared, but that won’t be for long. I had a profiler make an assessment, and the result is quite frightening. He will retaliate, that’s certain. And as his enemies are his own sons and now his sons’ friends, it’s not too far-fetched to think which people he will pick as his next targets.”
Lazarus nodded. “And I’ve warn
ed all of my brothers to stand ready.”
Deva didn’t want to think about any of the brothers. Not now, not when she was still on the verge of being broken by grief.
“And I’ve tightened the security of everyone at Purgatory. I won’t let my organization be vulnerable to this man.”
Gabrielle nodded at Beatrice’s words. “I doubt we will have to wait long before we hear from Finch again. That’s why I intend to stay a while longer. In Chicago, I mean. I know that Lazarus is going back to London for a few weeks, but we’ll keep our ears to the ground and prepare in the meantime.”
“Speaking of possible targets, what’s happened to Lance? Is he still going to train with Rusty? He never told me how he knew you. All three of you.”
Gabrielle exchanged a glance with Beatrice. “Lance had been working for my organization, Purgatory, as a consultant. With his two brothers. His last mission that involved Lazarus went south, and he was seriously wounded. Soon after, he vanished. He discharged himself from the Navy and disappeared off the grid. Even his brothers, and his closest friend, Gabrielle’s husband, couldn’t reach him. We think that his injuries shook him more than he could ever admit. It was a pure coincidence that he appeared at Rusty’s gym and I was happy to see he’s back in shape. Well, as much as we can tell. I don’t know if he will stick around, but one thing’s for sure, we’ll see him again. I’m convinced it’s partly because of you. By giving him purpose, you forced him out of his hole.”
Beatrice nodded and smiled. “And you reached him somehow. Something changed as he finally reconnected, it’s a great relief. And it’s because of you. I even learned that he spoke with Kai a few times over the phone.”
Lazarus scoffed. “Kai wants to know more about Purgatory. I think he’s getting bored.”
Gabrielle took another sip of wine. “Nonetheless, it’s a step in the right direction for me. Thank you, Deva.”
Deva shook her head. There was no credit to be had. Lance was a good man, and she liked him. Twirling the wine in her glass, she changed the topic. “Do you think Finch knows that I’ve had something to do with the collapse of his plan?”
“It’s difficult to know. But if it’s the case, I doubt that you are on top of that list. And rest assured that I will take all the flack, Deva. I would never put you on the spot.” Lazarus’ serious tone reassured her greatly. Never in her life had she been completely safe anyway, why would it change now?
“I’ll take the flack that is mine, thank you very much.”
Gabrielle laughed. “We should make a list ordering us in the level of involvement, or who had priority to take Finch down, and sign it with our blood. It would give a certain flair to this mission.”
Beatrice shook her head as everyone laughed. “And you Deva, as you are now free, what do you intend to do? Return to San Antonio, and the therapy center?”
How many times had she pondered that very question without coming to any conclusions? “I don’t know yet, Bea. It’s so strange. I’ve always had a goal, or knew what my next step was, and now? With my father gone and me back in Chicago, I’m not sure.”
Gabrielle’s eyes looked at her with such intensity, Deva could almost read her thoughts. Aleksei.
“What about letting things flow for a while, maybe you’ll find the answers you are searching for. You know there is always a plan B anyway.”
Lazarus blinked at Gabrielle’s cryptic words but didn’t add anything to it.
Beatrice’s eyes turned to Deva but didn’t add anything either. Instead, she lifted her glass.
“I want to thank Deva for everything she had done, for her sacrifice to help us stop Finch. To one of my wonderful Dark Sparrows, for her courage and to have avoided a bloody war.”
Both Gabrielle and Lazarus lifted their glasses. Touched, Deva lifted hers.
“Anytime, my friends. Never hesitate to ask for my help if you need it.”
Chapter 37
The plan B, as Gabrielle called it, wasn’t even a thought in Deva’s mind. Such a plan meant that there were sincere intentions or the pursuit of hope. And in her mind, that final decision squelched any possibility of a happy ending.
Yes, she loved Aleksei Voronov. As simple as that, there was no going back. She wasn’t a starry-eyed teenager, and Deva knew that if she went for everything she had fought against to gain her life and freedom, her life would turn sour and part of her would die inside.
Her only hope was that one day, the torment of her heart over him would lessen. Her last wish was that Aleksei would find happiness and peace, whatever the manner or with whom.
And following that wish, Deva had asked Gabrielle for one last favor.
It was under the setting sun of a very hot September day in Chicago that she used one last time Gerasim Egorov’s personal cell to ask for a meeting.
Sitting on a bench overlooking Lake Michigan at the edge of Navy Pier, Deva turned her back to the bubbly crowd, tourists, and families, her eyes lost in the moving waters and the beautiful hues of sky chasing the fading light. Keeping her thoughts clear, and her eyes dry was the most difficult task at hand.
“May I sit with you?”
Deva smiled as she recognized the Pakan’s voice. Turning her head, she was surprised to see such a powerful man in a pink polo shirt, cream golf shorts, and the most interesting cap.
“Gerasim? Is that you? Or maybe it’s a new trick to make sure you are not recognized when walking alone through the city?”
The man smiled, scratching his goatee as he sat beside her. “You are one of the few courageous enough to mock me, my dear Deva.” He looked down at his outfit. “My wife chose it. And I couldn’t say no. You know that none of my closest colleagues said a word about it.”
“Maybe they didn’t dare make a comment. From what’s happened in the last few months, it’s normal to be skittish.”
Gerasim boomed with laughter. “Qualifying my men as skittish is the funniest image. But I think you got it right. It shook us, but keeping my men on their toes will strengthen their loyalty. And between you and me, it made me realize that I must be careful. Even more so now, with people like Finch lurking nearby, that are cunning and dangerous. I never thought I would see the day when I would doubt the men around me and their loyalty.”
He waited a moment, looking at the lake, before turning to his bench companion once more. “I’m sorry you suffered because I couldn’t see the jackal in my pack of wolves.”
Deva shook her head. “I will survive. It just added scars to the ones I already have.”
“And are those new scars the reason why you and Aleksei drifted apart?”
Deva forced herself to joke about his question, to hide behind the teasing. “I never thought you’d play Cupid, Gerasim. Is this a service you offer to all your men?”
The man only shook his head. “I don’t care who my men put in their bed unless it has a direct impact on my business.”
“So why this interest in Aleksei?”
Gerasim frowned a little as if trying to understand beyond her words. She found his expression most unsettling.
“Do you know anything about him?”
It was her turn now to be confused. “What do you mean?”
“Aleksei is my nephew, the only son of my sister.”
Blinking, Deva gaped at him. “Zoya?”
There was genuine surprise in his gaze. “I see he at least told you that.”
“What he told me is that his family turned his back on his mother when they discovered she was pregnant with Finch’s child.”
Gerasim face turned grim. “And you are right. I was in the army at that time, going through difficult times of my own. That’s no excuse. I was her older brother, I should have known. It took time before I’ve learned she had left. And even worse, I didn’t find her before she died. But I knew of Aleksei. And as I was slowly transitioning from the army to the Bratva, I always kept an eye out for him. It took me years to finally find him, running scams in the streets of St.
Petersburg.” A smile tugged the old man’s lips at the memory. “Such intelligence, and wrath. When I introduced myself, I almost got my head chopped off! It took time, like trying to convince a rabid wolf that I wasn’t a threat, worse, that he could trust me. I told him that even a wolf needed a pack sometimes. That whatever he wanted to do, I would help him. It was one of the reasons why he followed me to the United States, and let me help him from time to time. Even today, he tolerates me but does not fully trust me. Did you know that Voronov means wolf? He wouldn’t take his mother’s surname, wanting to forge his life for himself. It suits him, though.”
Deva swallowed hard. “That’s him, knowing what he wants and getting it, snarling along the way. I wish for him to find his way, his happiness in life. Especially after all he went through.”
“And that happiness doesn’t include you?”
It was difficult saying it out loud, but it was the truth, and this was Aleksei’s uncle after all. “I love him. I can say that much. But I didn’t flee Chicago back then and hide for so many years without learning some important things about myself. The MC, the Rows, they hurt me badly. They required much more of me than I ever had to give. Aleksei is Bratva, and even though I love him more than anything else, I also know that being dragged into your organization would be my undoing. I fear I would resent Aleksei at some point for the decisions he had made. For the path that he has chosen. I can’t do that to him. Or to myself, Gerasim.”
The Pakan patted her hand. “I understand your decision, dear Deva. But what I don’t understand is why you believe that my nephew is Bratva.”
Deva jolted at his words. “Don’t tell me he doesn’t work for the Bratva, I wouldn’t believe you.”
“Oh, he works for us, but he has never taken the oath.”
Deva stuttered. “But his tattoos? I recognized many of them as Bratva.”
“Yes, in many ways he has successfully passed Bratva tests, but he has never taken the final vows. He wanted more than what we could offer. He used Bratva’s assignments to get money, to go to college. He still works for me, on a more personal level, on assignments. Didn’t you find it surprising that he didn’t know Semyon when we met at The Drake? If he had been Bratva on a regular basis, it would have been common knowledge.”
