“How’s брат?” I ask calmly.
“He’s not your brother!” She replies coldly.
My body tenses, and for a moment I want to hurt her. How could she say that to me? She, of all people, knows what we are to one another. I stare at her for a long moment as anger rolls off me. She glares back, showing me no fear whatsoever.
“If he was truly your brother then you would want to protect him. You would want more for him than what you have been dealt,” she says, running her hand over her stomach and their unborn child.
Her words wound me in a way I was unprepared for. I look down and take a deep breath, trying to gain some control of my emotions. When I look back at her, I have lost all the anger I felt just moments before.
“Estelle, I know you don’t believe this, but he is my brother. He has been since we were mальчики.” When she looks at me confused, I sigh and explain. “Boys, since we were little boys. I care about him and you of all people know I don’t care about anyone,” I say honestly.
She doesn’t say anything as I turn to the bed to look at him. My eyes zero in on all the tubes and equipment attached to him. He doesn’t look good at all. My heart drops into my stomach when I realize that he could actually die. My brows scrunch together and I take a deep breath, trying to settle myself down. I can’t think like that. Bolʹshoĭ is strong. He can beat this. I walk over to him and lean close to his ear and start whispering intently.
“Не оставляйте меня брата. Я не мог жить в мире без тебя.”
I tell him not to leave me and that I couldn’t live in a world without him. He doesn't move and I don’t know if he heard me or not. I hope he did. I need him to know this. I then turn back to Estelle. She is still watching me but her expression is softer now. She doesn’t look like she wants to kill me anymore.
“I didn’t want this to happen,” I tell her sincerely.
She stares at me for a long time, as if she is trying to decide whether she should hate me or not. I can understand that. I often can’t decide if I want to hate myself either. Only Bolʹshoĭ sees the best in me. If he is not here, will that part disappear altogether?
“What did happen?” she finally asks.
I sigh again and shake my head. “I can’t talk to you about it but know that Bolʹshoĭ saved my life. Anything you need, you let me know. I’ll make it happen, no matter what it is!” I tell her confidently.
She doesn’t respond. She simply takes his hand in hers and strokes it gently. I watch them for a moment and then start for the door, stopping before I exit. I turn to her again and clear my throat. She looks up at me but there is no warmth on her face, not for me.
“Will you tell him I came by?”
She nods and waves me off before focusing solely on her husband, my brother, my friend. I exit the room and head back to the bar, thinking about what will become of me if he doesn’t pull through this.
I breathe out and swallow. In a way, I did lose him that night, perhaps I lost him long before. All I know is that it wasn’t long after that he came to me telling me he was leaving Chicago. My hand works up the back of my neck. Without him by my side, I became exactly who my father expected me to be. My lip twitches and my heart aches at that thought. I glance at Estelle, who is still beside me. She is watching me, again.
“He belonged with you, Estelle,” I finally say determinedly.
She puts her arm around my waist as she looks up at me. “He belonged with both of us, just not, you know, the mob,” she says the last word in a whisper.
“True,” I reply with a laugh.
“When Charles said you were married, I felt very sad that he wasn’t able to be your…” She brings her lip in her mouth. “Your witness?”
I smile. “Well, it wasn’t really my wedding.” She gives me a confused look. “It was held in Moscow and it was primarily for my father, one of my father’s confidants spoke for me,” I say shaking my head. What a joke. He knew nothing about me.
“But…” She pauses, stepping back with a serious expression on her face, “You love your wife though? Your dad didn’t pick her, did he?” She asks deeply concerned.
I smile. “Well, we can’t all have what you and Bolʹshoĭ have, but yes, I do love her. She knows who I am and accepts that. And, for some crazy reason, she still loves me despite it.”
She smiles and nods, putting her arm around my waist again. “I’m glad to hear that.” She then giggles and looks up at me. “Maybe we could throw your father and Charles’ father in a ring and see who wins the worst father EVER award.”
“If my father were still alive, I would actually pay to see that,” I say laughing.
“Can I refresh your drink?” she asks and I nod, handing it to her.
I don’t necessarily visit anyone else, I mostly just watch Bolʹshoĭ interact with people. It doesn’t take long, however, for him to come back inside, and soon enough, all the guests are gone and it is just the immediate family, joking and laughing with one another. I glance at my watch and know that it is getting late. We should get out of here soon. Charles has already called his pilot and told him to ready his plane which I am thankful for. I glance up and he is eyeing me, giving me that 'look' again and I smirk. I swear he must forget that that look doesn’t work on me.
“It is starting to get late. We should leave soon,” I say matter of fact and all conversations stop.
“Let’s have a drink first,” Charles insists, looking directly at me.
Estelle stands. “Ladies, come help me in the kitchen,” she says as she starts walking away.
They all look at each other confused but dutifully rise and follow her. Charles stands and walks over to the bar, pulling out what I presume to be vodka. He snatches up a couple of glasses as I stand and walk over to him, grabbing several more glasses. We look at each other and smile before walking back to the couches.
“A toast,” I say as Charles begins pouring shots.
“I don’t really drink anymore,” Michael answers nervously.
“Nonsense.” I look at his confused face. “Why?”
“Rachel and I don’t drink.” He moves uneasily in his seat and then I remember that Charles had told me that she had been an alcoholic of some sort.
“What did she drink?” I ask, handing him a glass.
He looks confused by my question but finally answers. “Jack Daniels?”
I chuckle as I hand drinks to everyone else. “Well, we drink vodka and that is entirely different.” Stephan and Viktor laugh as does Charles. “One drink, it is tradition,” I say, arching my brow at him.
He looks at his dad, who nods slightly, and then back at the door leading into the kitchen. I grin and set my drink down before walking towards the kitchen. I step through the door to see all the women talking at the island in the center. They look surprised to see me. Well, trust me, ladies, I am just as surprised as you are that I am standing in here with the women and not out there with the men. I walk up to Rachel.
“I understand that you do not drink but I plan on getting your husband drunk. He is reluctant.”
She gives me one of the best bitch brows I have ever seen and then laughs. “Well, he doesn’t need my permission to drink. If he wants to get drunk, he can. I won’t stop him,” she says confidently and with purpose.
I smile. Ooh, I like her. She’s got spunk. I step right in front of her, setting my hand on the counter next to her and eyeing her. She shifts slightly in her seat, trying to move back but there isn’t anywhere for her to go.
“Will it be a problem if he drinks?”
She swallows and shakes her head and then furrows her brow. I give her a questioning look and she opens her mouth but no words come out and then she finally says softly, “I don’t think I could handle him smelling like whiskey though.”
I laugh and tap my forehead to hers. “Ms. Rachel. I am from Russia. I can trace my ancestral line for centuries and I am the head of the largest family in Chica
go. I wouldn’t be caught dead drinking anything but vodka.”
I kiss her lightly on the forehead and stand, glancing at the women in the room who all have stunned expressions on their faces, except for Estelle who is just shaking her head and crossing her arms at me. She is trying to look upset but I can see a small smile on her face.
“Are we talking wedding drunk or just bar drunk?” She asks in that tone all women seem to have when they disapprove of something.
I smile and wag my brow as I walk back out, hearing her mumble wedding drunk.
“You are fine, your wife has given you permission to get drunk,” I say sitting down and everyone starts laughing.
“You asked Rachel if I could drink and she said she didn’t care?”
He is staring at me with wide eyes. He then glances back at the door to the kitchen and then turns back to me. I shrug and raise my glass. But then Charles steps forward. He smiles at me and then turns to everyone.
“It has been a long time since my brother and I were able to sit together and laugh.” He glances at Viktor and Stephan. “To have a good time with our friends.” He looks at the three young men in front of us. “Honor your friendship, boys, you never know when it will be taken away and you will miss it all. The laughter and the jokes, the crazy antics of each other, the way you can challenge one another without fear, but mostly you will miss the closeness and the camaraderie with people who know you better than you know yourself, because trust me when I say this… true friendship stands the test of time.” They all nod and he turns to me. “Don’t ever let the people you care about leave your life without a fight, friendship is always worth the cost.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes and when I open them he is watching me intently.
“Я люблю тебя, брат. который никогда не останавливается,” he says as he downs his shot.
I swallow thickly as he tells me that he never stopped loving me. I drink mine quickly and then get up, pulling him into a hug. We hug for a long time and then I hear Joseph trying to whisper but he is actually shouting.
“What did he say? What happened?”
Charles and I look at each other and laugh. We spend the next several hours getting totally wasted, to the extent that we were on his wedding night. I am having such a good time. It is like having my wedding reception the way it should have been. He is up telling stories about our life together making everyone laugh and then we start telling stories about him that have those three boys literally rolling on the floor laughing. In fact, Joseph fell off the couch because he was laughing so hard and then he shot up from the floor like nothing had even happened. Now, I must say, he did hold his liquor better than Michael and Mark did because those two got drunk awfully quick.
“Oh wait!” Michael says, jumping up from his chair and then swaying slightly.
“You better sit down, dude, before you hurt yourself,” Mark says laughing.
“WAIT!” He says again, moving his hands kind of funny and looking around the room.
“Sit down, Michael, you’re wasted. I don’t care what your uncle says, Rachel’s gonna be pissed.” Joseph says and Michael frowns at him and then jumps.
Now I think in his head he probably jumped higher then he actually did because he seems really proud of himself before he takes off down the hall. We hear a loud crash and we all look in that direction and hear a slurred ‘I’m okay’. We all start laughing again as he stumbles back in carrying something.
“Have youuu seenn this?” He slurs, handing me a picture.
I look down and see that it is a framed photo of Charles and I in front of the bar. We are young so I am thinking this was taken right after he got back from Harvard. Look at us. We were something else. I glance at Charles.
“Bolʹshoĭ, is this the picture you were talking about?” I ask and he nods.
I show it to Viktor and Stephan and they smile and start speaking in Russian, trying to decide when it was taken and laughing at how serious we both look. Joseph then snatches the photo and he and Mark look at it while Joseph chuckles loudly, looking over at Charles and shaking his head.
“Holy shit, you look so badass!” He says and immediately his hands go over his mouth as Mark snickers uncontrollably next to him.
Charles rolls his eyes and then laughs as we all proceed to drink more. It isn’t long before the boys are passed out and it is just Charles and I sitting across from each other, sipping our last shot, milking it and trying to prevent the inevitable.
“We won’t be able to do this again will we?” He asks me.
“No, we can’t.” I take a sip of my drink. He starts to reply but I shake my head at him, to stop him. “The FBI and ATF have me watched pretty carefully. I won’t risk your involvement. I should have stopped that when you pledged it long ago. I should have never let you be a part of all of this. I was very selfish.”
“I knew what I was doing, Mladshiĭ,” he says indignantly. “You didn’t force me into it. I wanted to be there, by your side.”
“But I should have stopped you,” I say determinedly. “You were never meant for this life.”
“Neither were you,” he replies firmly.
“Maybe so, but sometimes you can’t fight the hand you’re dealt.” I look down at the picture on the table picking it up again. It’s a good picture of us. “May I keep this?” I ask, effectively changing the subject.
“Of course.”
“I will do what I can, Bolʹshoĭ, but…” I glance at the picture, running my fingers along the outline of our faces. “People in my line of work don’t live long lives. I know you want us together again, I just don’t see how that is possible. Just know that…” I look up at him and can see he is hurt by my words. “Today was one of the best days of my life, and when things are not going well for me I will look on today and it will make me smile because today was the day I truly got my brother back. I will never forget it.”
He nods, tears in his eyes. He reaches his hand out to me and I grab it. We shake it like we used to when we were kids. I immediately pull him close to me as our foreheads meet. He’s breathing heavily, as am I. Tears moisten my eyes but I won’t let them come out. I pull back and kiss each of his cheeks.
“Brothers forever,” he says to me and I nod.
“Forever.”
Tears slip down his cheeks, which is something I rarely see from him. I smile and rise from my seat, motioning for Stephan and Viktor. They both stand and yawn, stretching their arms. They grab their jackets and get on their phones immediately. Both calling different people. I turn and head for the door, reaching for my phone so that I can call Aleksei.
“I’m on my way home,” I say quickly. “How did it go?”
He fills me in on the deal he participated on, in my place. I smile and realize that he is good at this. I still dislike that this is the life he has chosen, but as Bolʹshoĭ has told me on many occasions now, it was his choice, not mine. I look back at the house when I get to the car and see him standing in the doorway. He has his hands in his pockets, staring at me intently. I wave at him and see a smile pass over his face as he nods his head, just like he used to do when we were younger.
“Goodbye, my brother,” I say before getting in the car.
Charles Livingston
Dimitri Komarovski
Author Note
Well, that’s it for my boys. I hope you enjoyed reading their story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love Charles and Dimitri so much. This was pretty much the first story I wrote about the complex relationships men have with one another. And while they both do bad things, they are truly committed to one another in a way that is rare. I hope that I reflected that appropriately.
Now, don’t you worry, Charles is doing just fine with his family in Sacramento and so is Dimitri. While they cannot communicate with each other regualrly because of the strong federal presence in Dimitri’s life, they still try. Will this be the last we hear of these two? Hmmm, not
sure I will do anymore with Charles but Dimitri will be making an appearance in another story I wrote that is also based in Chicago. Intriqued? Well, let me tell you a bit more about that.
When I started writing, Justice Fulfilled, Book One in The Talionic Files, I needed another ‘family’ to make the plot work. Being that the story was based in Chicago and involved an elite group of ATF agents, Dimitri immediately came to mind, seeing that the FBI and ATF are keeping a watchful eye on him. I thought, how cool would it be to have a little cross over action. Of course, I will not give out any speicifc information about the story as I don’t want to spoil it, but I can say that it is finished and awaiting copy editing. I am thinking it will be released in October, if all goes as planned. Be sure you are following all my social media contacts to stay in the loop.
So, with that I bid you До свидания (good bye), thanks for reading and I hope you join Dimitri in Justice Fulfilled, later this year.
Sincerely,
Tawa
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author T.M. Witko lives on the Standing Rock Indian Reservation with her children, Adam and Deanna. They are accompanied by their many animals, which includes an Australian Shepherd/Border Collie mix named Bella, a couple of ornery cats (Edward and Lil Bit) and their horses, Eagle Bear and Wild Spirit. She and her family enjoy attending wacipis, participating in tribal ceremonies, and living a quiet life without the hustle and bustle of the cities.
Ms. Witko is a licensed clinical psychologist, a full time writer/editor and one of the co-founders of Winyan Press, LLC, an independent publishing house geared at helping female writers find their voice. She is a multi-genre author who writes Young Adult Fiction, Crime/Suspense Stories, Adult Romances, and Native American Fiction.
Brothers Forever is the first story she has published in the crime/suspense genre and is available in paperback and eBook.
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