I tap her leg and when she turns to me I smile. “It will be okay. We have each other. Always.”
“Always,” she says smiling and placing my hand on her stomach.
Chapter 24
Present time
“Mister?” I hear as a small hand taps my shoulder causing me to jump.
I startle out of my memories and see a small boy with sandy blond hair tapping my shoulder and staring at me curiously. I look around and realize that I am still on the pier. I can also feel wetness on my cheeks and realize I must have been crying as well. I wipe under my eyes quickly and frown.
“You’re going to get us in trouble.” A smaller dark haired boy says next to him.
“Shhh.” The lighter haired boy replies, watching me with a serious expression on his face. “Are you okay? You were kind of mumbling and you looked like you were hurt.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not fine,” I say before seeing him stare at me in confusion. “Yeah, I’m okay or at least I will be,” I state, standing up and tapping him on the shoulder.
I brush my suit down and grip my briefcase tightly as I walk away, hearing the two boys arguing behind me. It’s time to pay my brother a visit. I maneuver my way down the crowded pier until I reach the parking lot and see my driver leaning against the car. He glances my way and quickly ends his conversation and brings the car around front. When I get in, I tell him where I want to go and see him eye me, almost scared.
“Do you have a problem taking me to that location?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.
“N…N...No, sir,” he stutters taking a deep breath and quickly averting my gaze.
Yeah, I know where I’m going. I dig my phone out of my pocket and call Elkins to make sure that things are lined up for when I get back.
“I’m on my way to the bar. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, Cordoza is keeping his word.”
“Good! Did you do what I asked?”
“Yeah, I scouted it already. I found the perfect spot.”
“Good.”
“I’ll call you when I’m heading back.”
“Alright, be careful, okay?”
“I will.”
I hang up the phone and see that I have missed a couple of calls from Estelle. I better call her. I don’t want her calling me when I am in the bar. Plus, she’s probably already frantic. I look at the time and call her office; she should be in-between clients right now.
“Dr. Webber’s office, how can I help you?”
“Hello, Liz, is she available?” I ask.
“She’s been waiting for your call. Hold on, Mr. Livingston,” Liz says.
“Charles?”
“Yeah, baby, it’s me. I see I missed some calls from you. I’m sorry.”
“No, I understand. I was a little worried. It’s been a while since you’ve been back there and I wasn’t sure how you would react. Have you seen him yet?” She asks concerned.
“I’m on my way now.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I don’t know. I went to the pier.”
“Did that help?”
“I don’t think so.” I pause trying to decide if I feel better or worse. “Yeah, I guess it did.”
“Charles, it would be normal to feel anxious going back. I’m having a trauma response just knowing you’re there. Knowing how things were when we left and not being sure how Dimitri will respond to you. Are you sure you’re doing alright?”
“Well, now that you said all that, I’m not so sure,” I reply laughing.
She laughs. “Sorry, sweetheart. I love you so much. I’m just so worried about you.”
I smile. “I know, Es, and I love you too.”
“Do you know what you’re going to say to him?”
“No, I think I will just play it by ear.”
“You know what I think?”
I laugh. “Es, I never know what you think.”
She giggles but then gets serious again. “I think you should appeal to his personal side. You know him better than anyone. Do you ever wonder if he felt bad for what he did to us?” she pauses, taking a deep breath. “I do? He loved you, Charles, and he was hurt that you chose me over him, that our family was more important to you than he was. He had a…” She pauses again like she is trying to think of the right word to say. “A temper tantrum,” she finally says.
“A temper tantrum? Es, he threatened to kill us.”
I see the driver’s head shoot up and stare at me in the rearview mirror with huge and fearful eyes. I glare at him and he quickly looks away. I am sure he is now even more paranoid about where I have asked him to take me.
“Yes, a temper tantrum. Like when kids get angry and they throw something or they tell their parents that they hate them but they don’t. I think he probably felt horrible afterwards, that, that was the last conversation he had with you. That instead of telling you that he loved you and cared about you and was glad you were going to have a normal life, a life he would never be able to have, he just... acted in anger.” She pauses and breathes in deeply. “He had a fit, Charles, plain and simple.”
I take a deep breath, thinking about what she is saying.
“You know that I never hated him, right?” She asks, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah, I know.”
“What I hated was that his father forced him into a lifestyle that he probably wouldn’t have chosen for himself and I hated that you felt so protective over him that you too became involved in things that changed you. Things, to this day, I don’t want to know about, but you were definitely changing, Charles. You were becoming more and more like him. I was losing you, you were losing you,” she finishes sadly.
I sigh. “I know I was. I tried to keep things separate but I just couldn’t.”
I hear her take another deep breath. “I just… I feel bad for him, Charles. He lost more than we did. We lost a house and some friends but he lost the only person he ever loved and trusted. He lost the one person who he knew cared about him unconditionally. He was left… alone. That couldn’t have been easy and I am sure people weren’t happy that we got away,” she says, her voice starting to choke up.
I can’t say anything. I am trying to get it together and she is making me feel even more emotional and unstable. I never thought of it that way though. I know how hard it was for me. I missed him so much over the years, often wondering what he was doing, if he was being taken care of. But I had Estelle and the kids, I had a normal life. A life we would never be able to have if we had stayed in Chicago. The driver slows down and I see that we are now at the bar.
“Es, we just pulled up to the bar. I will call you when I’m done.”
“I love you, Charles, always.”
“Always,” I reply as I hang up.
The driver sneaks a peek just as I open my case.
“If you keep looking back at me, there will be a problem!” I say, not looking up at him.
He stiffens and faces forward. I look inside my case, trying to decide what to bring in. I won’t bring my gun because that will create more of a problem, but I will bring my knife. Just in case. I pull it out, gently tracing over the engraving on the side of the blade. I run my hand through my hair as I look at the bar. It looks the same and I am flooded with memories. All the times we sat in our booth, plotting our lives, hating our fathers, being reckless and careless with our lives. I close my eyes and I can hear his laughter, see his hard face and his dark eyes that always seemed to shine just for me. We shared a bond that no one ever understood, a bond that I have never replaced. I take a deep breath and open my eyes, noticing that the driver is now looking at the bar as well.
“Do not leave. I shouldn’t be long,” I say crisply.
“Yes, sir.”
I get out and walk across the street, entering the place where I spent most of my life. I can’t help but smile. It hasn’t changed much in twenty-five years. Well, it has been upgraded a bit but structurally it hasn’t changed. There
aren’t a lot of people in here right now either. There is a group of four boys, no more than 17 or 18 years old sitting at the table Dimitri and I occupied on so many occasions, an old man at the bar and a couple of old timers playing a card game. Everyone turns to look at me as I stroll up to the bar.
“Kauffman,” I say, putting some money on the counter.
I down my shot quickly and motion for another one.
“I need to speak to Dimitri Komarovski,” I say casually, while bringing my glass to my lips, sipping my vodka. I hear the shuffling of footsteps and soon the four boys are at the bar.
“No one sees Mr. Komarovski.” One of the boys speaks clearly. He must be the leader of this little pack.
“Are you his secretary?” I ask, turning around and grinning at his expression.
His brows furrow and he glares at me. “Are you trying to start a fight with me old man?”
Now it’s my turn to frown. Did this little punk just call me an old man?
“Of course not,” I reply, taking another sip and turning back around, ignoring him. I look at the bartender. “Is he around?”
“I already told you that no one sees Mr. Komarovski, not without going through me first,” the leader of the pack tells me.
Oh, great. I was prepared to fight some of Dimitri’s thugs, but I really don’t want to beat the crap out of a bunch of kids. Even these punk kids don’t deserve the beat down I could give them. I continue to ignore him and look up at the bartender again, expecting an answer from him. In my days, Andrei always knew where to find Dimitri and me, so unless things have changed drastically, he should know where he’s at.
“Is he around?” I ask the bartender again. He glances over my shoulder at the boy next to me.
“I said…” Leader of the pack starts to say again and I turn and glare at him.
“I heard what you said, boy. I just didn’t think it was worthy of a response,” I state angrily.
I stare at him and watch as his face twists in anger. He gets this smirk on his face that seems familiar as he tries to hit me. I duck out of his way and his fist swings through the air. His friends decide to intervene at this point seeing that I just embarrassed their leader. I am trying hard not to beat the crap out of these kids. I mean, really, they have no idea who I am. But I do need to defend myself so I am forced to hit them a few times as I duck away from them easily. Man, these kids need to learn how to fight. If this is the best Dimitri has working for him, the family is in trouble. I’m not even breaking a sweat here, which actually makes me chuckle.
“What’s so funny, old man?” One of them says.
But before I can reply I hear the distinct sound of three guns cocking. It figures.
“Not so funny anymore, is it?” Leader of the pack says as one of the boys grabs me while the other two point their guns at me. He stands in front of me like he is someone important. Great, a wannabe gangster. “So, why do you want to meet with Mr. Komarovski?” He asks again.
When I don’t answer him, he backhands me across the face. I don’t think so, little boy! I kick my foot behind me, knocking the legs out from under the kid holding me and causing him to stumble, which throws off his friends, making them lower their weapons momentarily. I take advantage of them letting their guard down and quickly pull the leader of the pack into a choke hold and bring my knife to his neck before any of them can stop me. His friends look torn as all three point their guns at me.
“Put your guns away or I will cut him,” I say calmly with an expression that tells them I am not fooling around. I have had enough of this crap.
“BOLʹSHOĬ!” I hear from the door and look up, seeing Dimitri walk through. I immediately let go of the boy I am holding and he falls forward.
“I didn’t start this. He came in here asking for you,” the boy says rapidly.
I suddenly realize that Dimitri wasn’t calling me, but… this kid. I look at the boy and then Dimitri. Dimitri isn’t saying anything. He is just staring at me as recognition sets in. He finally starts moving, walking passed the kid who now has a look of confusion on his face. He stops right in front of me.
“Bolʹshoĭ?” he questions.
“Mladshiĭ?” I reply, taking a deep breath.
Chapter 25
Dimitri and I stare at each other for what seems like an hour but in truth is only mere seconds. He looks different, but the same. He’s wearing a dark suit with a button-down shirt. The two top buttons are open like he always did. His hair is the same, just graying in some spots, much like my own, and his facial hair is neatly trimmed.
“What the hell is going on?” The kid says and Dimitri frowns.
“Your son?” I ask, not sure how I would feel if it wasn’t.
He shrugs. “Yes, Aleksei.”
“Defender,” I say with a smile. “I can see that.”
Dimitri looks down and I see a small smile come across his face. I kind of chuckle, which makes him laugh as he looks up at me. I smirk mischievously.
“What ever happened to, I screw who I want, whenever I want?” I say mimicking the words he told me so long ago.
“Forget you, Bolʹshoĭ,” he replies, laughing even harder.
“I take it you threw away that doctor’s number?” I ask, looking at him curiously. He watches me for a moment and then smirks.
“I married Katya,” he says arching his brow.
“Really?” I laugh. “I never would have pictured you settling down and having a kid, let alone with Katya.” I smirk, knowing how wild she used to be.
“Well, it had to happen sooner or later,” he answers with a smile.
I watch him and grin but I know it was likely something his father decided. He had probably told him that it was time for him to bring forth a son, the next generation so to speak. I just hope he was happy about it. As wild as Katya was, I know that not only did she love him, she was one-hundred percent Russian and could trace her roots to Moscow and beyond. That would have been important to the family. When ready, I will be told what bloodline to marry into. I remember him saying when we were fifteen or sixteen. He had joked about it, but in reality, I know that he was serious. His father would have wanted to keep the bloodline pure and that thought makes me feel extremely sad for him.
“What the hell do you know about my mother?” His kid steps up, fists clenched at his sides ready to defend her.
Before I can say anything to him, Dimitri is giving him ‘the look’, the one he uses when he is telling people they need to back the hell up and his son dutifully steps back. Dimitri sighs and brings his fingers to his temples before softening his expression. He glances at him.
“Go get a drink and calm down,” he finally says coolly. His son looks between the two of us and mumbles as he walks towards the bar. He looks at me and I see sadness there. “You shouldn’t be here. You have put me in a bad position,” he says with another sigh.
“I know, but I need to talk to you.” I glance around and see his son at the bar, eyeing me and giving me a dirty look. I then look his men up and down. They are young and both have their hands in their jackets. “Privately,” I finish.
He takes the knife from my hand and runs his fingers along the engraving. He nods as he walks passed me and then motions to me with the knife to come follow him. He heads towards our table and sits down. I take a deep breath and glance around again before I start following Dimitri. I don’t know the people who are guarding him and what their specialty is, which leaves me at a disadvantage. They are watching me intently as I take a seat across from him. They are keeping their distance, knowing Dimitri will motion for them if he wants them.
“I’m sorry about your father. I read about his passing.”
Dimitri nods and continues to look at the knife. “He had cancer, they couldn’t stop it.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, not sure how else I should reply.
I glance at his son again and can see the resemblance now. He has Dimitri’s eyes and dark hair, but now that I know w
ho his mom is, I can see her in him as well. He is leaning with his back against the bar, his arms crossed and a noticeable scowl on his face. Dimitri follows my gaze and laughs.
“He’s a hot head, always wanting to fight, trying to prove himself. It’s one of the reasons I call him Bolʹshoĭ.” A sad expression passes across his face. “I don’t think he hates me as much as you hated your father though.” He turns to me, a slight smile on his face. “At least I hope not.”
“I’m sure you have done fine,” I say, hoping that is true and feeling sad that I was not a part of his son’s life. A son he calls by my nickname.
“Does Michael like being a teacher?” He asks, tracing along the length of the knife and catching me by surprise.
“Umm, yes, he does. How did you know he was a teacher?”
He finally makes eye contact with me. “I have kept up with your family.” When I give him a strange look he sighs. “Every few years or so I check on you. I saw that he graduated and was offered a position at the University. You must be very proud of him.”
“I am. He’s doing what he loves.”
He nods and then lets out a nervous laugh. “I am glad you didn’t force him to go to Harvard.”
Now I laugh. “Yes, well, my father was annoyed with that. He threatened to cut him off. I told him Michael didn’t need or care about his money.” I smile mischievously. “I told him if he couldn’t accept that to piss off. He almost didn’t go to Michael’s graduation, just to be spiteful,” I say rolling my eyes.
“I’m sure he was very pleased with that,” he replies with a grin.
He looks down and shakes his head. My father has always been a piece of work. He hasn’t changed much and I wonder if Dimitri was able to make amends with his before he died. He looks up and then over at his son with a solemn expression on his face.
“I want to send him to school out of state but he won’t go. He keeps fighting me on it, saying he won’t leave Chicago. Just hangs out around here, wanting to be… me,” he says running his hands over his head.
“That’s still a choice, Mladshiĭ. You aren’t forcing him. You have given him an out,” I say, watching him and seeing the pain it is causing him to see his son follow in his footsteps. “It’s a lot more than you were ever given.”
Brothers Forever Page 16
