All We Ever Needed

by D. A. Young

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What kind of finishes are we doin’ on Graham’s shelf order?!” Jack shouted to Holt, above the mayhem of machinery. “Natural knotty pine? Early American? Or dark walnut espresso?”

  “It’s natural knotty pine for the kitchen, and Georgina wanted Early American for the lobby.” Holt lifted his goggles and turned off his cutter. “You like how they turned out? Sure as hell hope so, ‘cause you’re not stickin’ me and Pip in a car with Nirvana and Jimi Hendrix on repeat again.”

  The floating shelves added the perfect blend of rustic charm and contemporary, minimalist style to any space. They were made from the rescued wood of old buildings, barns, demo sites, and wood yard remnants that Guy and Holt found from foraging all over Tennessee last summer. Every board was knotted and weathered with nail holes and wormholes. Americana Traditions hand cut, sanded, painted, waxed, and added a distressed look to enhance the natural patina of each wood shelf.

  Jack held out his gloved fist, and Holt bumped it with his. “Man, you already know I like how they turned out! I just finished the rustic barn door console with the custom slidin’ doors for Wade and Eliza’s living room. It looks much better than the standard hinge doors.”

  “No doubt. The antique wood wheels were a nice touch.” Holt’s head swiveled to make sure everyone was busy. Brendan was manning the office while Guy was in the conference room with a couple who was placing an order for nursery furniture. Since his brothers left to grab lunch for everyone, Jack had been somewhat subdued. Shooting him a furtive look, Holt asked, “Everythin’ good? You seem a little distant.”

  Jack set the shelf on a supply cart and yanked his gloves off. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, and his voice was barely audible when he confessed, “Nah. Shit’s fucked, but that’s nothin’ new, right? Every time I think I’ve finally put Patrick behind me, he pops back up like Michael Myers! I can’t get away from that motherfucker, and it’s overwhelmin’! I feel like I’m out of my element and drownin’ here! I’ll most likely be in therapy for the rest of my life! It’s not only that, though. You were willin’ to risk your life for us, Holt! You took a helluva chance sneakin’ up on Patrick! I guess I feel guilty because that should have been me up there givin’ a damn with Darby!”

  “You were already doin’ enough tryin’ to be there for them already and your mama! Quit bein’ so hard on yourself, Jackie! Patrick was a diseased narcissist and a master manipulator. He knew that he couldn’t compete with the love between you and the boys and Ms. Moira, so he used it against all of you at every opportunity! That’s what they do,” Holt flatly informed Jack.

  “It’s their job to create chaos, coerce, and destroy all things good. Kinda like the devil. To amplify your rage to the point of feelin’ like you’re caught in the middle of a motherfuckin’ hell hole.”

  “Sounds like you’re speakin’ from personal experience,” Jack solemnly observed. “Your grandfather?”

  “Yeah, somethin’ like that,” Holt confirmed sourly. “Except worse because he’s got money and power. My mama’s injury? It was all him. Everythin’ is complicated, and I just want to walk away from it all. I love my family, but Katerina is my life. This is where I want to be. I still haven’t told her after insistin’ that everything was fine and I promised I wasn’t goin’ anywhere. I don’t even know how she’s gonna take this shit.”

  Jack clapped him on the back and pulled Holt into him. “Say no more. We’ll make sure Kat has no time to be mopin’ after your ugly mug. Thanks for everythin’, brother.”

  “To hell and back until the end of time, brother.”

  “Hey, Mrs. B! Mr. B!”

  Holt found his parents talking with Guy at the front desk. His mother waved at him and kissed Guy’s cheek and squeezed him tight before heading Holt and Jack’s way.

  “Hej, Jackson!” Elin enveloped him in a bear hug and tightly squeezed.

  Holt noticed that her greetings to the Sullivan brothers were always infused with tons of affection. He always chalked it up to Elin’s guilt over not doing more about Patrick. After Moira’s murder, Holt didn’t speak to her for two weeks. Last week, he’d confided to her the truth behind the elder Sullivans’ deaths and in return, his mama confided why she’d felt so guilty.

  ***

  Past

  Elin pulled back up to the side of the road where she’d beaten Patrick’s ass last week. She had to be quick. It was cold and Rudii always fussed over her during this season as the frigid temperatures no longer agreed with her body. Elin had waited until he left for the shop to sneak out. Leaving the car on, she exited it and walked halfway to the other vehicle whose engine was also idling. The door opened and Elin patiently waited with a grin.

  “Does your husband know you’re out in this weather, Madam Illusionist?” Alexei Romankov smiled warmly as he extended his arms and they exchanged a hug.

  “No, Wolf, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Occasionally, Elin and Alexei had crossed paths at summits and kill sites camouflaged as social events across the world. In their previous profession, their circle was small but tight and based on integrity and trust. Killers with principles and hearts. Alexei was one of the few of their kind to reach out to Elin when she quit the business. He’d already left his family but still kept tabs on the underworld. She was surprised to find out that he’d also settled in Whiskey Row with his new wife. Like her, he’d quit for love and never regretted his decision. He’d offered to assist in making her transition smoother, but Elin refused. Things between her and Rudii were already strained. She thought it prudent to wait before heaping more of her old life onto her husband.

  “Let’s make it quick then, shall we?”

  “Patrick Sullivan is a problem that needs to be eliminated,” she stated without preamble.

  Alexei’s face calcified as Elin shared last Saturday’s events with him. “I take it you agree?”

  “Fucking animal!” he spat contemptuously. “Five months ago, I had to make him see the error of his ways over the youngest boy! How a person could treat their children so abominably is beyond me! They are great boys, and my wife adores them and Moira.”

  “I have a soft spot for them, too. I don’t really know Moira, but according to Holton, she’s a kind person, and I trust his judgment. From what I’ve seen and heard, there’s no love lost between her and Sullivan. The laundromat is hers and it’s quite successful. Exactly what does Sullivan contribute to their lives? Surely, we’re in agreement that his absence will not be a liability?”

  “I believe that they would benefit from his absence. The time has come. Do you want the honors? Or shall I take care of him?”

  Elin felt the acute ache in her lower left leg and shifted her weight to the right. “I think it would be best if you do it.” She frowned darkly. “The cold would be a hindrance for me.”

  Compassion relaxed Alexei’s face as his eyes fell to her injury, and Elin blithely ignored his stare. She was glad they were able to maintain a friendship of sorts and that Rudii had come around. Sometimes, Elin wanted to discuss the good old days with someone that didn’t look at her apprehensively if her idea of pillow talk consisted of the perfect way to disable a body. Thank goodness, Alexei understood these quirks.

  “How is your son’s Instruction going?”

  Elin beamed with pride. “He’s damned good! The best I’ve seen in a long time. He’s got a gift, and I’m not just bragging because he’s my son, Alexei.”

  Coming to America had presented a new challenge for her. During spring and summer months, Elin and Rudii hiked and explored the mountains with Holton strapped to their bodies. They camped out, and she studied everything there was to know about their environment and shared her knowledge with Holton. When he was ten and Rudii went away for a conference, Elin dropped him in the heart of the mountains and trailed after Holt as he carefully made his way home.

  “One could never accuse you of being boastful, Elin.”

 
; “You should see my boy with an axe, of all things!”

  “An axe?” Alexei threw his head back, and his rich laughter filled the crisp morning air. “Could you be any more morbid?”

  She smiled mysteriously. “I think we both know the answer to that. I call him ‘The Woodsman’.”

  “He’s House Falk’s chosen one?”

  Her smile fell. “Only time will tell. Accepting the duties that accompany the title is hard for Rudi since he wasn’t raised like you and I. What did you tell your wife?”

  Elin blinked at the besotted expression that crossed her old comrade’s face. The softness smoothed out the hard planes and contours, making “The Wolf” appear approachable.

  “Fortunately for me, she has a unique background that gave her a glimpse into mine. I’ve forsaken that life for her and never looked back. God willing, I pray that I won’t ever have to revisit. Very well, it’s settled. I shall take care of Sullivan after the holidays.”

  Elin paused with a thoughtful expression, and Alexei waited patiently. She had a bloodthirsty, mischievous look in her eye that reminded him of ‘The Illusionist’.

  “Perhaps it should be me? After all, Sullivan is a misogynistic, racist piece of shit. I find it fitting that a woman would be the one to give him a proper send off to hell.”

  “As you wish, ‘Madam Illusionist’.”

  ***

  Present

  “Fancy seein’ you here, pretty lady.” Holt bent down and pressed a kiss to both of her cheeks.

  “Save the sweet talk for your best girl,” Elin grinned. “I thought you’d come by last night, Holton. I waited up for you.”

  Decades later, Elin still kept her hair long, and it was now down to her waist. Silver was threaded throughout, and she wore it in French braids. The simplicity of the style flattered her natural look. Her beauty was further enhanced by the crinkle of laugh lines framing her eyes and mouth. The only time she wore anything other than sunscreen, lip balm, and moisturizer was when they returned to Sweden. Holt bent down and pressed a kiss to both of her cheeks.

  “Hej, Mama. No, Ivar has given me a lot to process. Why don’t we step outside? Dad, how are you?”

  “I’ve been better.” His son’s stiffness clued Rudii in that he was still in the doghouse. He pointed to the pieces of wood sprawled over Holt’s workstation. “This looks interesting. What’s it going to be?”

  “It’s called a Kentucky chair. Similar to an Adirondack, in style, but not quite. Sort of the Art Nouveau version and foldable. It’s constructed from kiln-dried southern yellow pine.” Holt ended his explanation abruptly, still heated about Rudii’s shenanigans.

  Holt had inherited the best of his parents’ traits. He idolized his father and had grown up to emulate him, following fast in his footsteps as a woodworker. His childhood consisted of Rudii showing him the ropes and permitting Holt to work at the shop with him. He’d inspired his only child so much that Holt decided to become a master carpenter, just like Rudii. It was one more thing Ivar despised about his son-in-law. That he inspired love and loyalty without the use of fear. Father and son were as thick as thieves. They never argued or had cause to.

  Until now.

  Sensing the tension between father and son, Elin added, “That sounds fascinating! Don’t keep us in suspense, Holton! What happens next with the chair?”

  He stared at her like she’d lost her damn mind, and Elin smiled up at him innocently. “It’s a surprise. Can I see y’all in private, please?”

  Holt left them to catch up as he headed for the conference room. “Pip, I’ve completed my projects, and I’ll pack them up tomorrow. Kat should be arrivin’ soon.”

  “It’s all good, brother.”

  “Son, I’d like to apologize to you. I didn’t mean to stir things up between you and your lady.”

  “I’m not the one you owe an apology, Dad. I won’t allow Katerina to be upset like that. She’s going to be your daughter-in-law sooner than later if I have my way, and she gets all the respect! I’ve tried to keep her sheltered from Ivar’s bullshit, and then you spring that on her. What happens in Sweden should stay there! We clear on that?”

  “You’re out of line, Holton,” Rudii warned.

  “If that’s what it takes for you to understand that I’m not gonna let that shit ride, so be it!” Holt informed him coldly.

  “Don’t take that tone with me, son! I’m only tryin’ to look out for—”

  “Enough!” Elin declared, glowering at them. “Holton, you know that we don’t have the luxury of ignoring Ivar. He’ll try to draw your attention in other ways! What did he want?”

  “It’s Matty, Mama.” Quickly, Holt explained to his parents what transpired.

  “Dear God, not Matty! I have to call Julian when we get home. This Liridon. Do you think you can make him see reason without any bloodshed?”

  “If I find out he had something to do with Matty? No. Vengeance is what I’ll be seeking in addition to answers.”

  Elin’s mouth opened then shut as her mind processed this new development, a storm gathering in her eyes. “I’m coming with you! It’s time we put a stop to this madness once and for all.”

  Rudii’s hands descended on her shoulders gently. “He’s not a boy anymore, Elin. I don’t like the idea any more than you do, but I trust Holt’s judgment.”

  “He will always be my baby boy! If he does this, Holton will be submerged in the very lifestyle I fought to eliminate!” Her quiet despair tore at father and son’s heartstrings. “Ivar will have won.”

  “Mama, don’t worry about me. From this point on, if you come to Sweden, it’ll be on your own terms. I plan on makin’ that clear to him when I get there,” Holt countered. “I’m gonna handle this business regardin’ Matty and get Otto straightened out, and then I’m done.”

  He clapped Rudii on the back affectionately, ready to put the disagreement behind them. “Y’all raised me up right, and we were never in it for anythin’ materialistic. There’s nothin’ I can’t handle if he threatens us with anythin’ else. I say we put the drama behind us for good?”

  “That sounds like a damn fine idea to me. What about you, Elin?”

  Rudii smiled at her, and Elin’s heart accelerated, spying a glimpse of the lighthearted handsome young man from the bar in Copenhagen all those years ago. It had been a long time since he’d made an appearance.

  ***

  Past

  “We don’t have to stay married. It was a pipe dream for me to think I could have anything normal. I’m sorry, Rudii.”

  “Elin, we recited vows. I intend to keep them. That’s my baby you’re carrying.”

  They’d moved into Elin’s apartment at the estate and stayed for five months that felt like a life sentence to Rudii. It was long enough for their injuries to heal and for Elin’s leg to be fitted for a prosthetic foot and her subsequent therapy. In the meantime, Madeline arranged for Rudii to be fitted with a custom-designed wardrobe by their family tailor and groomed at the spa. She did her best to make him feel comfortable as if her husband hadn’t amputated their only daughter’s foot, tortured Rudii and planned to kill him, and that her youngest son didn’t hate his sister for killing his wife and leaving their children motherless.

  Dinners were awkward affairs. Tage consumed nothing but alcohol. Ivar ignored Elin and Rudii even though Madeline informed them that their attendance was mandatory. He did not speak to them until the night before they were to leave for the States, paying a visit, with his wife, to their apartment.

  “You will return here once a year when summoned. Your child, along with his cousins, will be instructed as were you and your brothers. He or she will learn and be fluent in Swedish and know our culture as well as the American one you insist on exposing your child to,” he finished disdainfully.

  Rudii’s fingers curled until his nails were digging into his palms. Yet, he wisely held his tongue. For now. All he wanted to do was get his family to safety.

  Sensing his
son-in-law’s frustration, Ivar further elaborated, “I know where your family lives. Where they work, where the children go to school, and their favorite vacation spot. Accidents happen all the time, Brammer. It would be in your family’s best interests for you and Elin to comply with my demands.”

  “You want our child to be raised a killer!” Rudii accused him. “The same way you raised yours! Call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s the reason Elin was trying to escape!”

  “You’ve already proven to be just that, thinking you could immerse yourself into my family without repercussions. Currently, my net worth is in the millions. By the time your brat has finished school, I’ll have elevated to billionaire status. When I die, your children will expect to inherit a fortune they did not amass. Protecting their interests and investments by any means necessary is the least they could do.”

  For the first time in five months, Ivar made eye contact with his daughter. “Your wife was the best, Brammer. As that is the caliber of service I’m accustomed to, your child will provide no less when the time comes.”

  “And if I say no?”

  “Then I’ll simply do what I should have done five months ago. Starting with your family. I will make you watch as I systematically eradicate your entire bloodline.”

  “Bastard!”

  He lunged for Ivar, but Elin threw herself at him, wide eyes beseeching him to stay the course. The weight of her stomach pressed into his abdomen, a joyful reminder that Rudii had so much more to live for now.

  It was also a painful reminder that he was Ivar’s bitch now.

  Rudii didn’t say no.

  When they arrived in Whiskey Row, things were slightly better without the Falk influence as they awaited their baby’s arrival. The distance between them felt irresolvable. Elin knew Rudii hadn’t forgiven her for withholding her background and getting him involved in her family drama. He could hardly stand to look at her or be in her presence. Little did she know, Rudii blamed himself for not being able to protect her and the baby. Elin tossed and turned alone in their new bed while her husband stared up at the ceiling from the sofa, wishing he could examine the miraculous changes to her body up close.