by A. Zavarelli
“Emma?”
He nods, and I remember that we’d made casual plans to ice skate over the weekend.
“Well, honey, they’re still in Colorado so I don’t think we’ll be able to do that just yet.”
His face falls, and he tilts his head to the side like he doesn’t quite follow.
“They’d have to take a plane to get here, or we’d have to take one back.”
“Oh.”
“But when you see her, you’ll have to tell her all about your plane ride!”
He smiles wide. “Yay!”
My phone dings. This time it’s a text and I swipe the screen.
Lev: Sleep well?
Me: With you beside me, I always sleep well.
Lev: Good because I’m going to keep you up tonight.
Me: I hope so.
The sliding back door opens, and Pasha lets in a gust of cold air and the faint smell of cigarette smoke.
“I have to pick up a few things at the hardware store. That door’s going to give us trouble if I don’t. Can you be ready to go in a few minutes?”
“We’ll stay here. I have to bathe Josh anyway.”
He seems hesitant.
I put a hand on his arm. “I’m not going anywhere if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He studies me, and I smile.
“You have my word, Pasha.”
He nods reluctantly. “I’ll be gone for twenty minutes. Do not let anyone in. I have the code, and I’ll use the back door to enter. If anyone comes to either door, you don’t let them in. You don’t even go to the window. You pretend no one’s home, understand?”
“Yes. We’ll barely be done with the bath by the time you’re back anyway.”
Pasha says goodbye to Josh, and I watch him leave out of the front door. I listen to the locks click back into place as soon as he’s gone and turn to Josh.
“Ready for that bath?”
“Wally doesn’t want a bath today,” he says.
I pat his head. “Well, that’s fine for Wally, but you, mister, need one.”
Josh pouts but turns to head to the stairs.
I follow but detour as we pass the kitchen. I walk quickly to that drawer where I’d found the charger because I’d found something else there too. A pocketknife.
Opening it, I test the blade. It’s sharp. Sharper than most of mine and a little heavier.
And I feel just a little better about being alone here when I slide it into my pocket as I follow Josh up the stairs.
25
Lev
“Levka.” Vasily gestures for me to sit down as I walk into the empty club. “Care for a drink?”
He’s being unusually gracious, and I’m not sure what to make of his shift in mood. Considering the last time we spoke he could only tell me how disappointed he was, I am wary of accepting anything he has to offer. But to do so would be rude, so I simply nod.
He slides the bottle of vodka across the table, and I pluck an empty glass from the bar. Delirium isn’t open yet, and the building seems to magnify every sound as I pull out a barstool and sit beside him.
“Is everything taken care of with the mess at Andrei’s?” he asks.
“Of course.”
“Very good.”
I can’t tell what he’s thinking as he studies me, and I don’t know why he called me here. It is out of character for him to take so long to deliver an order. Vasily has always favored using as little of his time as possible in all endeavors, so for him to call me here without an apparent reason triggers my apprehension. Regardless, I use the opportunity to ask him the question that’s been burning in my mind since I left Andrei’s garage.
“I know we have spoken about this often over the years,” I tell him. “But this time of year always makes me think about my mother. Perhaps today, we should toast to her.”
Vasily’s fingers tighten around his glass, but his face remains unchanged. “Yes, I understand what you mean. I often think of her too. My dear sister, it is such a shame that her life was cut so tragically short.”
He disregards my proposal for a toast, opting to empty his glass without any kind words for my mother.
“I know you told me you would never stop looking.” I meet his gaze. “But have you found any new leads since the last we spoke on this subject?”
He studies me, never wavering in his expression. But in his eyes, there is an undercurrent of irritation he can’t hide. And I wonder if I never chose to see it before, or if I simply contributed it to the fact that my relentless pursuit for the truth was merely an annoyance.
“I have no new leads,” he says finally. “But I do believe that perhaps it is time for you to let this go, Levka.”
My hand curls into a fist at my side as I shake my head in refusal. “The score must be settled. You said so yourself.”
“It’s an idealistic notion,” he says. “But sometimes, the best thing we can do is simply move forward.”
It occurs to me that he has never cared to settle the score. And now, I believe I understand why. After all these years of doing his bidding. After dedicating half of my life to being his loyal servant. Cleaning up his fucking messes and doing his dirty work. And this is what he has to say to me?
“Was there a reason you called me here this morning?” I force my voice to remain neutral.
“I’m just waiting for Andrei. Then I will explain.”
He glances at the clock on the wall, and then removes his phone to check something. It’s a small gesture, but it sets off something inside me. I can’t explain the feeling of dread that lingers deep in my gut, but I’m starting to piece it together.
“Wait here,” Vasily orders. “I need to make a phone call.”
He disappears around the corner, and I pick up my phone with the intention of calling Kat. Something tells me I need to check on her. But before I even get that far, I notice a text from Pasha. He explains that he ran to the store, but he’ll be back shortly. It was sent five minutes ago.
A firestorm of questions ignites my suspicions. Where the fuck is Andrei? He’s never this late. It isn’t like Vasily to be so patient with his time. And why the fuck did Pasha leave Kat alone? I’m not thinking clearly when I stumble out the door and into my car. But it feels like a trap. It’s a feeling I can’t ignore.
My fingers tremble as I jam the key into the ignition. There’s no way they could know about Kat. No fucking way. But as I’m telling myself that, I notice the muddy footprint Andrei left behind. He drove my car. I never gave it a second thought, but is it possible that he found something?
No, he’s too stupid for that. I keep telling myself I’m just being paranoid as I jam the car into gear and take off down the street, fumbling with my phone as I try to dial Pasha. He doesn’t answer. I curse under my breath and then try Kat, but again, I get no answer.
The car accelerates, blowing through a stop sign I didn’t even see. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing else fucking matters. My fingers curl around the steering wheel, and I try to focus as I navigate the streets back to the house. I’m trying to dial Alexei when my phone rings, and Vasily’s name flashes across the screen.
I tap the button to ignore it, and in my frustration, the phone slips from my grasp and flies onto the floor beneath the passenger seat.
Motherfucking fuck.
I kick up the speed, laser-focused on the streets. I have to get home. It’s the only thing I can think of. And when I do, they are going to be all right. It won’t be like last time. I won’t be too late.
But even as I swallow my own assurances, I can picture my mother’s face. Her dead gaze has haunted me for so many years. I wasn’t there for her. I didn’t save her. And now I’m failing Kat and Josh all over again. I can feel it in my soul. My heart is already slowing to a crawl, prepared to die an agonizing death at a loss I won’t ever recover from.
26
Kat
Twenty minutes pass, then thirty. Josh is bathed and dressed and playing with
the toys in his borrowed room.
I take my now-charged phone upstairs to check on him yet again and decide to text Pasha. I don’t want to appear helpless or afraid, but there’s no denying that I am anxious. He doesn’t reply right away, and when that thirty minutes becomes forty-five minutes, my stomach twists into knots.
I leave Josh’s door slightly ajar and go downstairs. I need to call Lev, but I don’t want Josh to overhear anything.
Apart from the sounds of Josh driving the toy truck around the room, the house is quiet. I am too as I descend the stairs, phone in hand.
A sound at the back door makes my heart leap. I hurry to the front window, staying out of sight of the sliding back door and peer through the divide in the curtains. The SUV could be Pasha’s. I don’t remember the make of his, just that it was a black SUV with tinted windows.
The phone in my hand vibrates with a text message and I look down to read it.
Pasha: Almost there. I’m stuck behind an accident. Everything okay?
My heart races as my brain puts things together, and this time, the sound at the back door is louder and unmistakable.
Glass cracking.
Then shattering.
I run up the stairs, the phone slipping from my hand.
“Mommy?” Josh starts, alarmed when I charge into his room and close the door, putting my finger to my mouth as I gather him up in my arms.
“We’re going to play a game, Josh.”
“A game?”
The house isn’t very big, and a moment later, I hear heavy footfalls on the stairs.
“Lev’s home!” Josh says as I try to cover his mouth.
“Shh. We have to hide now, Josh. We’re going to play hide-and-seek.”
“With Lev?” he asks in an attempted whisper.
I nod and carry him to the closet. It’s empty but for some boxes. “You hide here, okay? Behind the boxes,” I whisper, my hands shaking as I try to hide him.
“What about you?”
“I’m too big to hide here. I’ll find somewhere else. Shh now.”
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” a man sings outside.
Josh turns his head in the direction of the sound, expression confused.
“Don’t come out until Lev or I come for you, okay? Not matter what. Promise?”
“Mommy?” His eyes grow wide as the bedroom door creaks open.
I put my lips to his forehead. “Hide, baby. Hide.”
I close the closet door, stand and press my back against it. My eyes on the opening door, I slide my hand into my back pocket and close it around the pocketknife.
A black boot comes into view first, big and caked with mud. My chest vibrates as I suck in a ragged breath, my stomach tight with anxiety.
The man peers inside, and I can’t hide, not if I want to keep Josh safe. Not if I want him to stay in that closet because this man is looking for me or for Lev, but there’s a chance he doesn’t know about Josh, and I have to hold on to that.
I creep away from the closet, and when he steps into the room, it’s the shiny metal of the pistol in his hand I see first. By the time I drag my eyes up to his, he’s staring at me, this giant of a man, with crazy eyes and a shit-eating grin on his face.
It’s the grin I recognize.
He’s the one who took Nina home that night at Delirium. The man who had his hand possessively around her arm.
The one I didn’t like.
And I like him less now.
Was he the one who did it? Who splattered Nina’s blood all over my scarf?
“There are you,” he says, looking me over and tucking his pistol at the back of his jeans as he licks his lips. “Been a while. Kat, right?”
I swallow, keeping my pocketknife hidden. I need to get out of this room. Whatever happens to me, I have to keep Josh safe.
What was his name? “Andrei, right?” I ask, playing stupid. “Lev said he was sending someone.”
He looks confused for a moment, then nods.
“Thank God. I was worried,” I say, trying to control the situation.
I tighten my sweaty hand around the knife, taking inventory. He’s not as fat as Robert George was, but he is as tall. He’s built differently, too. Like a solid wall.
And he’s a trained killer.
“Yeah, uh, Lev sent me to get you.” He’s improvising. “Said you might be bored.”
I walk toward him. “Yeah, I was.” He steps out into the hallway, and I follow, closing the door behind me, hoping he doesn’t notice when I turn the key in the lock grateful now for those keys I’d found strange when I’d first seen them.
“What were you doing in there?” he asks, eyes narrowing.
I’m not sure how to answer, so I distract him. “You were at the club that night,” I say as if I just remembered. “You took Nina home. She said you were cute.” I want to barf.
“Nina von Brandt.”
His expression is flat, eyes empty. Can I push him down the stairs?
“She didn’t think I was very cute later,” he says, and I realize he’s not as stupid as I hoped.
The game is over.
Andrei takes a stalking step toward me, and I run, gripping the banister and flying down the stairs so fast, I slip and tumble down the last few, the pocketknife flying out of reach.
He’s right behind me, body heavy as he tackles me at the bottom of the stairs.
“You’re not going anywhere!”
I can’t help my scream when he grips a handful of hair as soon as I’m back on my feet. He tugs me backward into him, the smell of sweat on him making me nauseous.
“Get away from me!” I slap at him and scratch at his face, but he’s too strong and when I hear the gun cocked and feel the cold metal at my throat, I freeze.
We hear it at the same time then. The banging of small fists against the upstairs door.
Shit.
“Mommy! Mommy!”
How long has Josh been screaming?
The man shifts his gaze up the stairs, then back to me, and a wicked grin stretches across his face, making him look like the devil himself.
“Mommy?” he asks, one eyebrow cocked.
A car comes to a screeching halt outside. Does he hear it? I know I have seconds to act, and I smash my head into his nose hard.
He stumbles backward, his hold on me relaxing for just a minute, but when I try to slip away, to reach the knife just a few feet from me, he slams the butt of his gun into my temple so hard I spin and drop to my hands and knees.
“Don’t you fucking dare!”
I’m dazed. My head throbs, hair hanging like a bloody curtain between us as the room spins. I think about this morning, and I can still smell the marshmallow pancakes Pasha made.
I retch then. I’m sick on the living room carpet.
“That’s disgusting,” Andrei says, crouching down in front of me. “Where were we?”
He shoves me onto my back, eyes like death as he scans my body, pushing thick fingers into the waistband of my jeans. He tugs me closer, forcing my legs apart and undoing my jeans, tugging them halfway down my hips.
I stretch my arm out over my head, fingers curling around the pocketknife.
“That’s right. We were right here,” he says, licking his already wet lips.
“This is for Nina,” I say, bringing my knife arm toward his gut.
But I’m not fast enough. He hits my arm with his, and the knife clatters against the wall at the far corner.
“She wasn’t so pretty after I beat the shit out of her, you know,” he says, gripping my jaw to slam the back of my head into the floor. “Now it’s your turn.”
He flips me over, drags me up onto my knees by my hair, and he’s behind me.
“Let’s see what’s so special about your cunt that has my cousin betraying his own blood.”
27
Lev
When I finally skid into the driveway, I can’t fucking breathe. My chest is caving in on me, and my vision is bl
urry as I head for the door. Something thumps against the floor as I punch in the code, fucking it up, forcing me to repeat the process all over again.
I have no voice. I can’t even call out for her. But when I swing the door open, I realize that it isn’t necessary. Because my worst fears have materialized, and I don’t have to look any further to find Kat.
She’s right here on the living room floor with Andrei behind her and a gun to her head. Her pants are pulled down to her thighs, and Andrei’s jeans are unzipped. The first thing I think of is aiming straight for his dick.
“Andrei.” My voice is a warning as I reach for the pistol in my jeans, but before I can grab it, he’s jamming his own gun into Kat’s temple, shaking his head.
“Shut the door,” he barks.
Slowly, I ease the door shut behind me, glancing around the room for Pasha. But he isn’t here. Josh, however, is crying in his room upstairs, banging on the door. My throat narrows to a pinhole as I force myself to remain calm, meeting Kat’s gaze.
She’s fucking terrified. Her eyes are streaked with tears, and every time Josh cries out, she flinches in pain. It’s a pain I understand because I feel it too. But I’m determined to change that, but I just don’t know how yet.
Andrei is coked out of his mind, as usual, and his eyes are practically bugging out of his head. I need to get him to calm the fuck down. Keep him talking and distract him somehow.
“How did you find them?” I ask.
“You think you’re so fucking smart,” he sneers. “Do you think I don’t know about the fucking tracker you slipped onto my car?”
I didn’t think he knew about that, but I’m quickly coming to understand that Andrei isn’t as dumb as he often pretends to be.
“I took a page from your book, and you didn’t even think twice about it.” He grabs a fistful of Kat’s hair, yanking her head back to expose her throat.
She whimpers in pain, and I lunge forward on instinct, but Andrei drags her backward, bumping into the coffee table.
“Don’t fucking move!” he roars. “Or I’ll blow her goddamn head off right now while you watch.”
