Chapter 34: Chapter 34

Vadik

We would have preferred to use our own resources to keep Charleigh safe, rather than have her trained to defend herself. I wish no situation would ever arise where she had to take up for herself, where she was on her own without us to take care of our her the way we should. But the reality is, this shit does happen, it has happened, and it could very well happen again.

What really killed me is that the first time we suggested training, she jumped all over the idea, insisting she start right away, as if she knew we couldn’t keep her safe and that she really was on her own in the world. That stung. And now, every day she relives the brutal treatment she suffered at the hands of Dimitri and his men. She might be getting stronger physically, but emotionally, she’s so drawn into herself I’m afraid we may have lost her.

The only time I see a little light in her eyes is when her sister comes in the room. But I know she’s putting on a show for Evie.

She’s just dead on the inside.

The question is, can we bring her back to life?

I’m lying if I don’t admit this haunts me. I never realized someone else’s pain could become my own, maybe aside from my brothers, and yet here we are. To survive, I’ve thrown myself into work like I always do. It’s my escape, it always has been, whenever the stress is getting too much to take.

Mama always said I was a workaholic. Papa said I was ambitious. But the truth falls somewhere in between the two. If you bury yourself in work, there are a lot of other things in life you don’t have to focus on, things you can avoid. Seems I’ve become quite the champ at that.

Granted, I’ve always been a hard worker. I wanted to make my parents proud, ensure the family name remains respected, and continue the work my father started as an immigrant in this country. It wasn’t easy for him, although he never complained. It seems the least I—and my brothers—can do is honor his legacy by keeping the businesses he started strong and successful.

With these self-imposed pressures, I’ve never had much time for anything other than work. No relationships, no hobbies—none of that bullshit.

Kir, he has his cooking. Or he did. Once he lost Clara, he stopped doing anything that reminded him of her. But he’s an amazing amateur chef, so yeah, he can have life outside work when he wants to.

Niko’s always been the playboy out of the three of us. I wouldn’t peg him as a man-whore, not by a long shot, but the girls like him and he likes them right back. He typically has dates several nights a week. Well, he did until Charleigh came along.

But me, I’ve always been pretty much about work. I don’t take vacations, go to any more parties than I absolutely have to, and only spend time with women who are as eager to get their rocks off as I am. Nothing more. They usually do it for money. Keeps it simpler that way.

This sort of life has served me well for a long time. But something’s different now. I’m not sure I like it.

In fact, I know I don’t. It’s uncomfortable, like a too-small pair of shoes you can’t take off.

Lately, work has not been the soothing balm for me it was the past. When my parents died, I barely left the office, and when I did, it was only to sleep three or four hours after several drinks. It was how I got through those tough days without losing my mind.

But now, not even work is protecting me from myself. Which means Charleigh’s on my mind pretty much all fucking day and night.

No one knows except security—and they’ll never say anything if they want to keep their jobs and their lives—but I’ve been checking in on Charleigh several times a night just to make sure she’s still fucking there. We’ve almost lost her so many times now, I feel like our luck just might be running out, something I thought I’d never say, and that the next time she’s in danger, we might not get her back.

How the fuck does someone get the better of the Alekseev brothers? Are we losing our hold on our power structure? Are other factions testing us to a greater extent than before? Have we been attacked so many times now we’re seen as weak? Do others believe that with the loss of our father comes the fall of the Alekseev empire?

Fuck that.

Not possible. And if anyone wants to argue about it, I’ll cut their head right off. We might have recently suffered serious blows, but that’s to be expected in our world. There are always ups and downs, and we will strike back, but at the right time. Not a moment sooner. Anyone who sees in us a sign of weakness for biding our time is a fool setting himself up for a big surprise. One of the reasons the Alekseevs are as strong as we are is that we take action with great forethought—we never strike first chance we get. We usually wait, gage the situation, and devise a harsh and merciless strike. Everyone knows that about us. They respect it. They fear it.

Impulsivity? That’s for amateurs, newbies, and brash idiots. Not that I don’t have the occasional blind urge, the desire to off someone who’s done me wrong. I just know to control it. Strike at the optimal time.

In spite of my distractions, I keep reminding myself it should be a load off my mind that we’ve brought on new security. And I am glad Charleigh’s self-defense training is building her confidence. Hopefully, my brothers and I can protect her so that she never needs it, but if it makes her feel better, I’m all for it.

The Charleigh we knew before the attack is not the Charleigh we have right now. She’s a remnant of her former self, obsessed with revenge to a greater extent than I think I’ve ever seen. And I’ve spent a lot of time around people seeking revenge. It will consume you with its insidious tentacles, trap you in its bitterness, and rob you of any light you ever carried. It nearly destroyed me when my parents were murdered, like a sick obsession. But two years has helped me mellow, and the belief that we’ll eventually get my parents’ killers makes it easier to get through the day.

“Do you… do you think she’s overdoing it?” Niko asks, frowning.

I know she hit him the other day when he tried to kiss her. On one hand, I guess it’s understandable. On the other, it’s pretty fucked up.

I’m surprised by her warrior mindset. Never would have thought she had it in her. I’d hate to be on her bad side.

The woman is seriously determined to make a bitch pay.

“I definitely think she’s overdoing it with the training. Not so much physically, but mentally for sure. And she’s insisting on firearms training now,” Kir says. “It’s great she’s getting in shape and all that, but she’s getting fanatical about it.”

Niko shakes his head. “He thought we were after his ass, but he ought to really be scared now,” he says with an ironic laugh. “He pissed off the wrong woman.”

*******

Vadik

An hour later, when Charleigh’s training is done if not for the day, then at least for the time being, we file into her room while she’s in the shower.

“Um. What are you guys doing here?” she asks when she gets out, tightening the sash on her robe, her hair dripping water onto the floor.

“We want to talk to you,” I say. “Would you mind having a seat?”

She looks from one of us to the next, suspicious, clearly having lost all ability to trust.

I get it. I can’t say I’m a trusting person, not by a long shot, but to see someone as guileless as her change almost overnight comes as a surprise to even a cynical bastard like me.

She takes a seat on the easy chair in the corner of the room, about as far away from the three of us as possible.

If that’s what she needs to do, fine.

“What’s going on with you, Charleigh?” Kir asks.

Her head twitches and she frowns like she doesn’t understand the question. Yeah, right. I call bullshit. She knows full well what we are getting at. She’s not a stupid woman. There’s no way she hasn’t seen the change in herself, nor would she expect anyone else to overlook it.

“Are you going to pretend you’re the same person you were before your attack? Or can we talk about how it’s affected you?” I ask.

Might as well rip the bandage right off.

She looks down at her hands and begins to pick her cuticles. Which is good. She’s listening. Reflecting.

“We can talk about whatever you want to talk about,” she says in a flat, bored voice.

Okay. She’s not rolling over for us. Didn’t expect her to, really.

“Charleigh, we’re afraid you’re taking this training thing a little too far. We will get Dimitri. He will pay for what he’s done. Don’t doubt that. Don’t doubt us. But what are you going to do once we have gotten him? Are you going to keep this up for the rest of your life?”

She clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes like a petulant kid on the defense. “You guys are just mad because I’m not ‘servicing’ you anymore,” she says, using air quotes.

What?

Fuck all, if that wasn’t a strike below the belt.

So not necessary. And such bullshit.

Before I can think of a way to respond without losing my temper, Niko jumps to his feet, his face red. He lopes toward her like an angry bull and she recoils, I notice with her hands in closed fists. She’s ready to take him on, not that she wants to. She’s just gotten to where this is her automatic response.

Regardless, I can’t recall ever seeing my brother angry, much less this angry.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” he growls. “Stop acting like you’re our whore. You know we don’t see you that way, goddammit.”

Her eyes widen at his scolding, and her own face begins to redden. Then her eyes fill with tears, which she quickly wipes away with the sleeve of her bathrobe. The new Charleigh is all about hiding her emotions.

She got the reaction out of Niko she wanted. She won’t get it from me, though. I have more control than my younger brother, for better or for worse, and I can see right through her tough talk. Underneath it is a lovely young woman who’s suffering. Badly.

What I want her to learn, to understand, is that when she suffers, we suffer too.

Finally, a tear trickles down her cheek. “I was powerless. You couldn’t protect me, Frank couldn’t protect me, nobody could protect me. I’m not letting that happen again. I’m taking back my power. If I ever had any to begin with.” This is when she starts to cry harder. “No one’s ever taken up for me. I’ve always been alone. And I’m tired of it.”

Against my better judgment, I jump to my feet and am across the room in two long steps. I take her by the arms and pull her to me. She needs to feel the protection we offer her.

And to know each of us would sacrifice our own lives to keep her safe, given the chance.

But she isn’t ready. “Let me go!” she screams.

I don’t. I can’t. I pull her tighter. She fights me harder.

Kir’s hand lands on my shoulder, warning me to loosen my grip. But I can’t seem to. I want her to know how important she is and how much she means to me. I’ve got to get her to listen. I’ve got to get through to her.

I can’t deny my feelings for this woman. They’re uncomfortable, painful, revelatory, and insidious. I don’t do things like this, fall for women, especially women like Charleigh. I’ll be the ruin of her.

If I haven’t already been.