The Debt

by Sara Hubbard

  Out back, my father has three bullseye targets up at the end of the yard, a few meters from the forest line. He holds a mechanical bow and aims it at the one in the middle. Andrei stands beside him with a quiver in his hands. With a whoosh, an arrow slices through the air and hits the target dead in the center.

  My hands start to twitch. You just never know what you’re walking into. It would make no sense for Andrei to tell my dad about Luna, but I can’t presume to know the inner workings of Andrei’s mind. I can only rationalize what I would do if I was him and I wanted what he wanted. But I reach into my jacket and nonchalantly unclasp the holster for my gun—just in case. Andrei has surprised me on more than one occasion.

  The wind blows at my hair, and I push it back as I approach. My brother turns and nods to me. His expression is tight. My father sets up another arrow and lets it fly before he turns and points the bow at me.

  I hold out my hands and glare at him.

  “Where’ve you been?”

  “At the club where I should still be right now.”

  “No, son, you should be wherever I want you to be.” He turns and holds out his hand. Andrei responds by giving him another arrow. Then Sergei lets it fly, splitting the arrow at the target in half. He’s as good of a shot with his bow and arrow as I am with a handgun. He raises the bow and rests it on his shoulder.

  “You heard?” he asks me.

  “I did. Yuri told me this morning. That’s when I realized my phone was dead. I didn’t know you’d been trying to reach me.”

  “I need people I can rely on. I always thought those people would be family. Especially my sons. I call Andrei, he’s here in minutes. You? You take your time. It makes me think your priorities are elsewhere.”

  “Like I said, my phone died.”

  “You look like shit. I thought you’d kill that guy last night. For a second, I thought you’d lose, and you almost did. That makes me look bad.”

  I glare at him. First, I get it from my mother, and now I get it from him. They really are well matched, aren’t they? I won and yet, to them, I’m still a loser because I didn’t win enough.

  “People see you nearly losing, and it makes you look weak. It makes me look weak. Then people no longer think we’re untouchable. We get picked off, one by one.”

  Does he think that Emanuel getting some shots on me has somehow invited someone to kill Trevor? The thought is almost laughable, and yet completely in line with his paranoia.

  Andrei says, “He had a lot of enemies. It might have nothing to do with us and everything to do with Trevor.”

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion,” my father snaps.

  When my father starts walking back to the house, my brother and I fall in step on either side of him. Andrei came to my defence, but it wasn’t welcome or necessary. Still, we’re in this together now. For better or for worse.

  “What do we now?” I ask.

  “It looks like his body was dumped. No cameras. No witnesses—yet. But I’m sure someone will come forward. There’s always someone watching.”

  “When they do, we’ll know how to proceed,” Andrei says.

  “No, we can’t just let it go. Andrei, ask around, see what you can find out.”

  “I’ll find out who did it, Father, and I’ll make them pay,” he says.

  “I know you will,” Sergei says with a sneer.

  He walks inside the house, leaving me and my brother outside on the patio. One look between us speaks volumes. He nods to the side of the house. We walk around to the front instead of going back through the house. I’m grateful—though I won’t say it—because it allows me to avoid my mother.

  “Any chance anyone saw?” I ask, my voice low.

  He shakes his head. “I paid a kid to do it. Then I kidnapped him. I’ll ask around, get someone to name him, then I’ll kill them before I kill the kid. Dad will never know the difference.”

  He might think he’s got it all covered, but when more of Dad’s people end up dead, I’m not sure that answer will make much sense. Of course, I’m not about to share my plans with Andrei.

  “Wait a few days,” I say. “If you can.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  I shrug my shoulders and open the door to my car.

  “I hope we’re still on the same side, brother?”

  “We are.” For now. “Which is why I’m asking you to wait.”

  He nods.

  I climb inside and press the button to start to the car. He bends down so his face is level with mine and makes a gesture for me to roll down my window. “Say hello to our girl for me.” He winks at me, a smirk on his poisonous face.

  “Call her ‘ours’ again, and I’ll rip your head off.”

  “Always so angry.”

  “Out of curiosity, did you say anything to Irina?”

  He tips his head down and chuckles. “About what?”

  “She’s got it in her head I’m with someone.”

  He laughs. “She was pushing my buttons, trying to tell me she expected you and Alexandra to get back together. That it would be so good for our family to have you and her together so you could lead and have her family’s support. Of course, she doesn’t know what I know. We both know you’re already quite taken.”

  “I’m not fucking around. Did you tell her about Luna?”

  He shakes his head. “Relax, brother. You’re my best friend right now. I’m just having a bit of fun. You know how she gets. To answer your question, no, I didn’t. I just told her I was pretty sure you were occupied with someone else.”

  “She’s like a dog with a bone.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Thanks a fucking lot.”

  “You’re welcome.” He leans away, and I roll up the window just as my mother opens the door. I wave to her as she calls out to me. In my rear-view mirror, I see Andrei laughing as I drive away.

  Chapter 19

  Luna: “Do you need anything?” I ask Yara. She sits up in bed with a mountain of pillows behind her back that I fluffed for her an hour ago. She’s not the easiest patient. All day’s she’s been trying to get up and clean and cook. I’ve been checking in on her every half-hour or so to make sure she stays put.

  “You’re spoiling me,” she says.

  “That’s kind of the point. You need your rest.”

  “I’m not used to being idle.”

  “I wasn’t either, but I didn’t have a choice, and neither do you.”

  She folds her arms over her chest and huffs at me. “It’s too quiet here.”

  “I know,” I say softly. “Maxim is gone so much. Not that he’s loud. He barely talks…”

  “Well, talk was never encouraged in his home when he was growing up. His father believed children should be seen and not heard.”

  “That explains a lot.”

  I sit on the side of the bed and bend one of my legs to rest in front of me. “Does he talk to you?”

  “Yes, but not in the way you mean. At least, not often.”

  I frown at her. “I feel like he wants to open up to me, but he insists on keeping me at an arm’s length.”

  She nods.

  “How do you get him to open up?”

  “I wish I could tell you. He trusts so few people, and even then, I don’t think it’s complete. Sometimes, he’ll open up to me, for just a moment, and then he’ll pull back again. I never push because I worry he’ll never do it again, but maybe—just maybe—he needs that from someone like you. Someone willing to share her most private thoughts so he can feel comfortable doing the same.”

  I’m not sure that would be enough for him. And though I’m open, it would ruin me to tell him what’s in my heart and have him say nothing back.

  “He cares for you deeply,” she adds. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise. He invites no one here.”

  “He didn’t invite me.”

  “Maybe not in the traditional sense,” she says with a sad look on her face. “But I promise you, bringing you h
ere and inviting you are one in the same to him.”

  I glance over at the window at the robin sitting on the branch of a tree not far from the house. I swear it’s looking right at me. “Yara, do you think he’s capable of love?”

  Her eyebrows rise and fall before she frowns at me. “Oh, sweet girl, yes. He’s very capable. I’m just not sure he knows what to do with it. Especially when it comes to loving a woman.”

  “He’s never had a serious relationship?”

  She takes my hand and squeezes it. Her fingers are calloused though her palm is soft. With her other hand, she strokes mine. “I don’t think so, but then, I didn’t know about you, and I know your relationship is much more than the time you’ve spent here, no?”

  I nod.

  “There’s only been one, that I know of, that’s worth mentioning. Her name was Alexandra, but between us girls, I think his mother was more excited about that relationship than he was.”

  “His mother,” I say with a scoff. “I’ve never been introduced to her, but I’ve come across her a few times. She’s a little intense.”

  Yara laughs at that. “Yes, intense is a very good word for her.”

  Another robin lands on the tree, and the sun starts to burn on the horizon, coloring it pink and purple. It’s amazing to look at from here, and I have a thought to watch it outside.

  Yara lets out a yawn and settles her head back on her pillows.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been keeping you awake. Why don’t you get some more rest? I think I might step outside, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?” Yara says in alarm. “Leave the house?”

  “Yes, but not the property. He gave me the code, so I think he’ll be okay with it. I just want to go down by the water. I’ve wanted to for a while. I have that big room overlooking the lake, and it was such a tease because I could never go near it.”

  “I don’t think he’ll like that.”

  “I won’t be long, okay?”

  She nods, but deep lines form in her forehead as she frowns at me.

  * * *

  The air is a little chilly outside, but I bet the water is warm. I turn on the lights to the patio and punch in my code. Slowly, I stroll into the backyard in my bare feet and start down the gently sloped hill leading to the personal jetty. The moist grass feels nice on my feet, and I wrap my sweater around me tightly for some added warmth.

  If I were him, I would have a boat, just a little one, and I’d be out on the water every chance I got. As a kid, I loved swimming. Pool, lake, river, beach? It didn’t matter. Mom used to tell me I must have been a mermaid in a prior life.

  The dock is well-built and maintained, though I’ve never seen him down here. I walk along it. About twenty feet out or so, a couple of ducks make low, deep noises. I smile at them. Yes, this is exactly what I dreamed about when I was nursing. This right here. All I need is a glass of wine.

  I dip my toe and wave it through the water. It might be warmer than the air. It’s late and probably not smart, but I want to jump in and get wet. It’s only eight o’clock. Maxim likely won’t be back for hours.

  I peel off my sweater and my shirt and leggings. At the end of the dock is a metal ladder leading into the water. I take a step down and then another. The water is cooler than my toe led me to believe, but I’m committed now. Once I’m in and used to the water, I find the air cooler, so I try and keep my body submerged. The ducks still honk nearby, and I chuckle, enjoying that we’re sharing the water. I float on my back and let my hair fan out as I stare up at the darkening sky. I can almost see the stars now as the sun dips behind the trees.

  The stars remind me of my dad. We loved looking at the stars together. I wave my arms through the water and continue floating. “Can you hear me, Dad?” I whisper, and then I laugh at my foolishness. I’ve been thinking more and more about him the last few days. I desperately want to forgive him. God, if I could only. I think it would make the grief easier.

  I roll onto my front and swim out toward the small island. It’s about a quarter of a mile away, but I’m a strong swimmer. Spending weeks in Maxim’s house has made my muscles weak, and I struggle to catch my breath by the time I reach the weeds and bullrushes near the shore. I stand on the mucky bottom and journey closer, but it’s much too cold now. I retreat back to the water. It seems so much farther now when I look back at the dock. I’m not sure I have the energy left in me to get there, so I turn onto my back and kick my legs most of the way, watching the stars as they grow brighter in the darkened sky.

  I roll over when I feel I’m close, and I look for the dock. With narrowed eyes, I try to make out the shape of the silhouette on the dock. Hesitantly, I swim forward, squinting. It’s then that I see him. Feet apart, arms folded over his chest. I can’t see his expression, but I don’t need to.

  I’m in trouble.

  A few feet from the ladder, I dare look up at him. He stares down at me with a face full of hate. It makes me want to dive under the water and swim far, far away.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he snaps at me.

  “Swimming?”

  “What if someone saw you?”

  “Who? There’s no one around.”

  “Get out. Now.”

  I tread water and frown at him. We shared an intense moment last night, and it meant a lot to me. All day I’ve agonized over how to grow closer to him, and this is how he treats me now. Like a servant to command. I’m trying so hard to understand him and find a way to work through all the reasons separating us, but I won’t let him talk to me like this. Not now. Not ever.

  “No,” I say firmly.

  He crouches down. “Luna, don’t push me.”

  “Or what?”

  “I won’t ask again.”

  He doesn’t know better, I tell myself. Help him. But then I imagine my mother making these same excuses but for different behavior. I close my eyes and open them, telling myself it’s different. I’m not her. I love her, but I know I’m stronger. I walked away before, and I know I can do it again if I have to. “Am I still a prisoner, Max?”

  “What?”

  “This isn’t how you treat someone you care about. At least, it’s not the way I treat someone I care about.”

  He drops his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. I tread water, still waiting, desperately hoping he’ll come to realize what I’m saying is true, sooner rather than later.

  When he finally speaks, his tone is softer. “Luna, things are tense right now. It’s important for you to stay out of sight. You understand?”

  “Why?”

  “Luna, God damn it, can you just trust me?”

  “I’m getting out because I’m cold, not because you told me to.”

  He raises an eyebrow. The moonlight shines on his beautiful but beaten face, and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Okay. I understand.”

  “Good.” I reach for the ladder and pull myself up with tired and aching muscles. As if he can sense my weakness, he holds out his hand and gently pulls me forward as I step onto the dock. In his other hand, I spy a robe I somehow missed before.

  “Is that for me?” I ask through chattering teeth.

  He shakes his head at me before he drapes it over my shoulders. It’s soft, thick terry and I absolutely float inside of it. It must be his. When I tip my head down to dry my cheek on the collar, I smell him all over it. Earthy. A touch of cinnamon and soap. My anger wanes—just a little. He knew I was out here, and he thought to grab this before coming out. Even pissed off at me, he still thought only of me. Where is his anger now? All I see is worry as he feverishly tries to rub my arms for warmth.

  “You have to work on how you talk to me,” I say before I stretch up on my toes and kiss him on the cheek.

  He lowers his forehead to mine and sighs. “Yes.”

  “Thank you for the robe,” I whisper.

  “What you did was foolish.” He moves his head, his nose gently caressing mine. “Not just because you could have been s
een, but because you were swimming alone in the dark. Why would you do that?”

  “I wanted to go outside. Sometimes the house makes me feel claustrophobic. And I love the water. I always have.”

  He wraps an arm around me as he leads me back to the house. There is a heaviness about him when he walks, and it concerns me.

  “Something’s changed,” I say. “Why is it that—now more than ever—I need to stay out of sight?”

  He opens the back door, and I step inside. Completely ignoring my question, he leads me up the stairs after securing the alarm. I think we’re going to my room, but he takes me to his. In the bathroom, he gently removes my robe and puts it in the hamper. As I take off my bra and underwear, he starts the shower.

  “I’ll grab you some clothes,” he says.

  He starts to leave, and I reach out and take his hand. I shake my head and step forward. With one hand I open the shower door, and with the other, I pull him inside with me. He resists.

  “Luna, I'm dressed.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He protests, but I meant what I said. I yank him harder until he’s inside with me, shoes and all. He shakes his head. Though he looks annoyed, his face softens as he cups my cheeks in his hands. I can see he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He captures my mouth with his and kisses me slowly—softly—as I unbutton his shirt. After peeling it off and admiring his hard chest, I toss the shirt over the glass door.

  The water warms me, but not as much as the heat of his chest pressed against mine.

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he says.

  “Did you just say you’re sorry?”

  He fights a smile.

  “Please say it again.”

  He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer. His erection tents in his pants. I unbutton them and free him with a smile on my face.

  “Once is more than enough.”