Chapter 26: Chapter 26

Charleigh

A compound. This is news. “Was their house… completely destroyed?”

Shit. Why did I just ask that? It can’t be something the guys want to talk about. But on the other hand, what do I care? It’s not like I’m trying to make friends here or get a Miss Manners award for not asking tacky questions.

My mother would not approve, but then, she’s not here, is she?

Niko takes a seat on the sofa and kicks his feet up on a leather-covered coffee table. “No. It was not destroyed. Not entirely. The fire was put out quickly, as it turned out. Not fast enough to save them, though. We had it torn down anyway. None of us ever wanted to go back in there.”

Kir salutes with his glass of whatever, after passing me a glass of the same, which I did not ask for and do not want. “Now there’s a memorial garden where their house stood. It’s full of our mother’s favorite flowers and trees. She and our father would have loved it.”

I’d like to visit this place, not only the garden but the whole compound. I don’t bother asking if I can. My opportunities to breathe fresh air are going to be few and far between soon, and I doubt these guys are taking me on any field trips between now and then after what happened today. I still wonder if I can get Dimitri to help me, but he’ll have his own demands, and who knows whether they’ll be worse than what I’m already facing.

I doubt I’ll be doing any more sneaking out either, regardless of how badly Evie needs me. And that hurts, probably more than anything else about this nightmare. My future is as uncertain as one can be, but my sister’s is even more so, and she’s not even had a chance to live yet. She’s just a kid.

But I keep the guys talking. Perhaps something will come of it. “You are so sure it was Dimitri who killed them.”

If I’m going to be nosy, I’m going all the way.

“Dimitri has always contested that his father left the club to our dad. He’s convinced the man would have wanted him to have part of the club. But ours became the rightful owner, one-hundred percent and Dimitri has had a bug up his ass about that ever since. He thought by getting rid of our dad he could swoop in. He had no idea Papa left the club to Uncle Mikey,” Kir says.

“Not that Mikey was much better than Dimitri,” Vadik adds. “He was only slightly less useless.”

Kir picks up some sort of remote and clicks it in the direction of the fireplace. A huge TV screen lowers out of nowhere. “Uncle Mikey was a useless piece of shit, but he hated Dimitri just like we do. He didn’t want him to have the club just like we don’t.”

“Why doesn’t Dimitri drop it, and just focus on his other businesses?”

I’m pretty sure my kind of logic doesn’t apply to this situation, but I’ve got to ask. It’s like trying to look away from a car accident. You want to, but you don’t.

“He knows the club is a cash cow for one, but primarily it’s an ego thing for him. He feels fucked over.”

Still doesn’t make sense to me. The guy’s going to get himself killed at some point.

Holy crap. Am I thinking like these people? Drawing conclusions the way they do? God help me.

Actually, I’m pretty sure God isn’t going to help me out of this situation. Nobody is. Unless I can appeal to the guys.

“Hey, Vadik,” I say, “remember the other day when I asked if you guys could bid on me? So I could stay with you?”

So sad I’m asking to stay with them because they are the lesser of evils. What a freaking joke.

Not surprisingly, my question doesn’t go over well.

Vadik glares at me. “Come. I’ll show you your new room.”

Dammit. Did I go too far?

And if I did, what the hell do they expect? Of course I’m going to try and bargain for better circumstances.

Who wouldn’t? My father might be a fool, but I’m not.

For fuck’s sake.

My new room is identical to the last except for some weird metal shades that look like they come down over the windows.

“Are those for blocking the sun?” I ask.

Vadik chuckles. “No. They are for blocking gunfire. This is essentially a safe room. Have you ever heard of one?”

I gulp. “Um, well, yeah. In the movies.”

He nods. “Same idea. I’ll let you get settled in. If anything ever happens, that button on the wall next to the door will activate the entire system, as well as locking this door from the inside.”

Lock the door from the inside?

As if he can read my mind, he shakes a finger at me. “Don’t get any ideas, Charleigh. My brothers and I can override the system. So you can’t lock us out.” He rubs a hand over his smooth head like he wants to say something else. He doesn’t, though.

I glance around and find not only have my few belongings been brought over from the other room, but they are creepily in the same places I left them. A magazine on the dresser. Sneakers next to the easy chair. My phone on the nightstand. I grab it and take stock of my missed calls.

First, I text Luci.

Hey there.

OMG, there u r. WTF?

Did u get an A?

Don’t change subj. What’s going on?

I’m fine. Rly.

Pls let me help. I know something’s up. I’m begging.

Can Luci really do something to help me? Of course not. No one can help me. And telling her anything would only put her in the same sort of danger I’m in, knowing what I do about the guys.

And make things worse for me, if that’s at all possible.

Sry honey, gotta go.

* * *

Charleigh

I put my phone face-down on the bed. I still need to return a call to Evie, but I want to make sure I sound normal when I do.

I sprawl on the bed and stare at the ceiling.

How did my father get in so deep? What was he thinking, running up gambling debts, especially to the extent he did? Did he have no regard for how he was endangering himself? Or his family?

Did he not know there would be consequences to his irresponsibility? And how they might impact his family?

He used to be so… normal. Just a nice dad who drove us to school and helped us with our homework. Who cooked breakfast on weekend mornings to give our mom a break, and who taught us to swim at the public pool.

Then Mother was murdered.

Ten years on, he still hasn’t returned to himself. I know he never will. In fact, he might be even worse now than when it first happened. He’s not capable of much more than opening the store every day, doing whatever business comes his way, and going home to bed. He barely eats, certainly doesn’t cook—that’s left to us—and utters scarcely a word.

For most people, grief softens over time. It doesn’t go away—I know that for a fact. But the broken feeling you have at the beginning loses some of its intensity. You function again. Sort of.

But Pops never came back, not even a little, even when he had a young family to look after.

It’s as if guilt has eaten away at his insides…

I cover my mouth as nausea washes over me and my mouth goes bone-dry.

He…

No…

It can’t be…

Never…

Did… Pops have something to do with Mother’s death? Was her murder not just a random holdup, but some sort of reckoning for something he did?

Oh god. I don’t want it to be true. I’ve lost my mother. I don’t want to lose what little is left of my father. And yet if it’s true, how will I ever forgive him? How do I reconcile my love for him with hate?

Mother always said people have both good and bad in them.

Further, whether he was involved or in her murder or not, will I ever forgive him for getting me in the situation I’m in? Hell, it might have been easier if someone had just come in the shop and shot me in the head like they did her. I wouldn’t be going through this shit right now.

If that’s how it all went down. Which seems increasingly likely.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I want it all to go away. Just go away.

Then I think of Evie.

As I’m about to dial her, I hear loud voices outside my room. I tiptoe to the door and listen to the guys’ raised voices.

“I don’t care what the Pakhan said, we can’t let Dimitri bid this weekend.”

“Jesus, Kir, I would have thought the nice blowjob you just got in the car would have you in a better mood. Pour yourself another scotch, man,” Vadik taunts.

Cripes. The room might be bulletproof, but it’s sure not soundproof. At least not when grown men are using raised voices.

“Fuck off, Vad,” Kir says. “You know he’ll stop at nothing to get her, just to show us he’s in control. That he’s the man. You know how that prick is.”

“The sooner he’s dead, the better,” Niko adds.

I can’t believe I’m listening to a conversation like this, as if these guys are normal people discussing everyday things like sports… or the weather.

But instead talk about killing people.

“I say we defy the Pakhan. Deal with the consequences later. I don’t want Dimitri here, and I don’t want his hands on Charleigh,” Kir says.

“Ha!” Vadik booms. “And there we have it.”

Oh my god. Has Kir taken a liking to me?

Is this something I can make work in my favor?

“You’re getting soft,” Vadik growls. “You both are. And it makes me sick.”

I close my eyes and breathe deeply. Please, please, please…

I can’t get my hopes up. It’s stupid to flatter myself. These men could probably be in love with me and they’d still send me to the slaughterhouse. That’s how they operate. They have no conscience. No ability to care.

They are sick, horrible people.

I don’t deserve this. I don’t.

My phone vibrates and because I’m tired of hearing the guys argue, I pick it up.

*********

Charleigh

“Evie. Hey.”

“Thanks for returning all my calls, Char,” she says in full-on smartass, something she’s perfected like a champ.

I wait for my irritation to pass. On top of everything else, I am not in the mood to take shit from a bitchy teenager.

“Sorry. I’ve been… busy. What’s up?”

“Pops says you might not be coming back home.”

Did I just hear a crack in her voice? Is the little monster actually upset?

And did Pops really say that? What the hell?

Now what do I say?

I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want to get her hopes up, either. Poor kid has been through more than most sixteen-year-olds.

So I lie, not because it’s better for her, but because it’s better for me. Which is pathetic and lame.

“Don’t listen to Pops, Evie. He’s being ridiculous. But hey, while I’m gone can you do me a huge, huge favor?”

She sniffles. Shit, she really is upset, which breaks by damn heart. I’m just another person in her life who’s going to let her down. “Yeah?” she asks.

“There’s a lot going on for me right now, Evie. Pops too. So I need you to try really, really hard to stay on your best behavior. If you don’t want to do it for yourself, do it for me. I just really need this. If you need help with anything, call Victoria. You know how she’s always been there for us.”

Now my voice cracks. But that’s okay. I want her to know how serious I am. I can’t help her the way I used to. She needs to start helping herself. She has to grow up fast, just like I did when Mother died.

“Char, what’s going on? Where are you?” Evie asks in a small voice.

The voice takes me back to when she was little, when I vowed to always be there for her because our mother couldn’t. She was such a beautiful little girl. Dark curly hair and huge brown eyes. After Mother died, she was afraid to sleep alone. She held my hand everywhere we went.

She didn’t want to lose me, too. After all, she’d basically just lost both parents.

I put my head in my hands. I’m not even sure who or what to hate. My father? The guys?

The world?

My shitty luck?

I end my call with Evie before I say too much, and my heart hurts so much I curl up in a ball.

Just when I’m making something of my life, this shit rains down on my head. But I can deal with these beasts. I have no choice. They’re seasoned criminals for sure, but there must be some compassion, somewhere deep in their hearts. Well, maybe not Vadik’s, but Kir and Niko have some humanity to them. I’ve got to reach that. Dig in and make a space for myself there. Make them see me as a human who deserves love and respect.

Not to be offloaded on some rich fucker so they can get their club on solid ground.

But if my father can’t get his act together without selling off one of his daughters, what the hell makes me think these men are capable of major change?

The Alekseev brothers aren’t nice people. They’re scarred and dangerous, damaged by the world they exist in. They have hate in their hearts.

And I’m afraid, pretty soon, I will, too.