Chapter 40: Chapter 40

Niko

“Looks like you warmed the old man up for us really well, baby,” Kir says with a twinkle in his eye. “You left him in a great mood.”

He knows better than to expect differently. Just like Vadik and I do. But he has to get a smart-assed remark out of his system.

Gazing out the car window, she shrugs while flicking the ends of her hair. “I suppose I did. The old fucker didn’t listen, though. No surprise there. He just wants Dimitri to give me a bunch of money and then send me on my way.” She turns toward my brothers and me, all seated in the back of our limo, and the hatred in her eyes hits me.

Have we lost our girl forever?

She continues with a vehemence. “He doesn’t care what Dimitri did to me. He doesn’t care at all, which means if the man wants to do it again he can, and even worse, he knows he can get away with it. He’s given carte blanche to all men to do whatever the hell they want to women, with the only consequence being writing them a check to shut them up.”

I don’t voice my suspicion that maybe the Pakhan is not blowing us off quite the way Charleigh and everyone thinks. They won’t hear it right now, and I’m in no mood to argue, which would be the likely result.

Charleigh settles into her seat and shimmies her shoulders. “Hey. I pulled a knife on the Pakhan’s second.”

My head whips in her direction at the same time as my brothers’.

Jesus, this woman.

“Charleigh, you’re starting to sound like your little sister, with how out of control you are,” Vadik says.

I can’t tell if he’s serious or just chiding her. It doesn’t really matter, though. What he’s saying is true.

“What the fuck, Charleigh?” Kir asks, frowning.

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small knife, smugly showing it off like a kid in show-and-tell.

“Where the hell did you get that?” he asks.

She twirls it around between her fingers, admiring it. “I borrowed it from my self-defense instructor.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Vadik says. “And how did you come to pull a knife on the second. Did he do something to you?”

She presses her lips together, pausing. “You know that bloody nose he had? Well, when we were going into the Pakhan’s office, I accidentally pushed the door into his face.”

Kir busts out laughing, but when he notices the serious look on Vadik’s and my faces, he reins it in.

“And then what?” I ask.

“As you can imagine, he was kind of mad. Then the Pakhan made him leave, which made him even more mad. When I got back to the waiting room and you guys left, I pointed out that the bleeding had stopped.”

Kir nods, still trying not to laugh. “Okay, so you were antagonizing the bastard. Not hard to do with a big-headed brute like him. But when did you pull the knife?”

“I guess I pissed him off,” she says with false innocence, “so he lunged at me. I pulled the knife and held it at his crotch.” She demonstrates with pride.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling a bit of pride, myself. Not a smart move on her part, but good for her for the excellent effort. Still, she could have ended up dead. And like she has observed, the penalty wouldn’t be much at all, since she’s ‘just’ a woman.

“Jesus Christ,” Vadik says, rubbing his bald head.

Charleigh nods proudly. “As you might imagine, that got him to back right off.”

She drops the knife back into her pocket before one of us can confiscate it.

I could tell her that her little knife might have slowed the second, but it wouldn’t have stopped him from snapping her neck. I could tell her she’s not the kind of badass she thinks she is, and that she needs to watch herself. Or, I could tell her to hand over the goddamn knife before she hurts herself.

But I don’t. I like how she stuck up for herself, no matter how clumsily she did it.

I change the subject. “The Pakhan said Dimitri will be compensating you. I know that was hard for you to hear, but that’s typical in our world. What’s not typical is a woman seeking her own revenge. Keep in mind you’re bucking the trend here. And when you do something like that, you have to step carefully.”

She studies me as I speak, finally listening.

“I know you don’t want money.” I look at my brothers and decide to share my thoughts. Fuck anyone who doesn’t like it. “That’s a temporary fix. I know it is. We’ll see more action on the Pakhan’s part at some point. When, I don’t know, but we will.”

She sighs impatiently. “Really? Is that what you think?”

Vadik throws me a warning look. I know he doesn’t want me getting her hopes up, but he can fuck right off.

I know I’m right.

“You’ll get your revenge, darlin’,” I say. “We all will, for all the wrongs that bastard has visited on us. You’ve got to believe that, Charleigh.”

Her eyes fill with tears and her voice cracks. “I hope you’re right, Niko, because right now I hate myself. I hate being in my skin. It’s like a thousand bugs are running over me all the time, taking tiny, painful bites of me, and soon there won’t be anything left.”

The tears begin to flow, and she reaches for my hand. “Please help me, Niko. I can’t live like this. It hurts too much and… sometimes I’m afraid I’ll do something crazy. I need to hang on for my sister. She has no one. No one cares about her but me, Niko,” she says, dissolving into the sobs I expect she’s been holding onto for too long.

I pull her to me. “I promise you, baby. I promise we’ll get this all taken care of. You’ll never forget what happened, but it won’t rule your life like it does now. Trust me.”

*************

Charleigh

I bunch up the bottom of my nightgown so it doesn’t drag, and walk through the compound’s wet grass, watered by the evening dew.

When I was a kid, I hated grass sticking to my feet and between my toes, but something about it tonight is comforting. Cool. Refreshing. It makes me feel like I can breathe, like I’ve left a room full of smokers where I thought I might choke to death.

An apt description of my life, where every breath seems a struggle.

I wander through the pitch-dark property, which I know well enough by now to avoid major obstacles like trees and such. I figure security is watching me, not that it makes me feel much better. The constant alert of always looking over my shoulder has my stomach in knots. I can’t eat, and unless I take one of the sleeping pills prescribed by the Alekseev’s doctor, I can’t sleep, either.

Hell, I can’t even focus long enough to read, nor sit long enough to watch a movie on TV. The only thing I can do is walk the property. Without this, I’d lose my mind.

I have to admit, there is something magical about walking outside after dark. The birds are quieter, the air smells clean, and the breeze tickles my skin. I need to hold on to this feeling, figure out a way to carry it with me to maybe get rid of some of the rotten that’s eating me from the inside out.

Which was not made better by my meeting with the Pakhan. Did I really think he’d listen to me, a woman? How could I be so naïve?

Actually, I’ve been naïve about a lot of things, not least of which was running over to the arcade with Frank that day, thinking I could whisk my sister away, after which life would be grand.

I’ve made mistake after mistake, like encouraging Stacey to take Niko’s car. It should have been me who blew up in it that day. It was supposed to be me.

But if I died instead of Stacey, what would have happened to Evie? Would she have gone back to my father? Would the guys have taken care of her?

Maybe, maybe not.

Which is why I’m grateful I’m here. My days may be full of nightmares that rival those that I have at night, but at least I’m here for her. I want to help her have the life I haven’t.

I glance up at the big house and through the window of Evie’s room, see light flickering off the walls. I said goodnight to her an hour ago. While she’s not attending school per se, I am trying to keep her on the same schedule she had before so that when she goes back, it will be a seamless transition.

But the light in her room tells me she’s playing video games on her computer, something she must have picked up during her brief time with the awful Arseny.

Oh, that I could wring that fucker’s neck. I hate him more than Dimitri, if that’s possible. Sure, he set me up, which is bad enough, but that he used my sister to do it is a step too far. He will pay, just like his uncle. I don’t know when or how, just that they will pay. The opportunity will present itself. I know it will.

And it won’t revolve around anyone giving me a bag of cash to send me on my way. All the money in the world won’t keep me safe from Dimitri. Only his death will.

And that stupid ‘second’ of the Pakhan’s. First, who would ever want to be referred to as a ‘second,’ and next, how did a big lout get a job like that, anyway? Actually, I know the answer, at least I can guess at it. He’s related to somebody the Pakhan knows. It’s got to be something simple like that.

That’s how most everything in this world works. Who you know. Who you’re related to. Who your father did deals with.

Hell, family obligations are the only reason the Alekseevs have kept that awful Dominika around.

“Charleigh. Charleigh,” a soft voice whispers, startling me, but only for a moment.

It’s Niko, keeping his voice low as if disturbing the peacefulness of the night would scare it away.

The little light there is in the night sky reflects his blond hair, making it easy to seek him out in the dark. As he walks toward me, his feet squeak in the wet grass, and I realize he must be barefoot like me.

It’s funny to think someone from a big organized crime family actually walks barefoot on wet grass. It just seems so incongruous for someone who buys and sells illegal firearms and other weapons, and carries a gun every time he leaves the house.

So bizarre. But what about my life isn’t bizarre these days?

I like to imagine what each of the guys would have become had they been from ‘normal’ families, where they could choose their own professions.

Vadik would have been the CEO of some huge, successful corporation. He’d tell people what to do all day long and when they didn’t, he’d fire them without hesitation. People would bow and scrape before him in appreciation of his vast knowledge and expertise. He’d travel the world in a private jet, meeting with all manner of business and world leaders, and they’d listen to everything he had to say.

Kir is easy. His passion is so clearly cooking that he’d have become a chef. Maybe have his own Michelin-starred restaurant, be on all the cooking magazine covers, and even have a show like some top chefs do. When someone in the kitchen messed up, he’d scream at them just like the chefs on TV do, but it would be for the best, to make his assistants better at their work. They’d look back on their days of working with him and admit that while it was difficult, they’d never learned so much in such a short period of time.

Niko is a little harder. He’s a ladies’ man, no doubt, but part of what makes him one is also what gives him his irresistible appeal. What woman doesn’t love a strong, take-charge man who can also talk about feelings and wipe away tears? Maybe Niko would have been a doctor. A kindly but sexy doctor. Or a politician. A stately senator, known for bringing together people with disparate interests and concocting a solution that makes everyone walk away happy. He’d be mentioned in history books for years to come, there would be statues of him in great parks, and his name would be spoken with hushed awe and respect.

Instead, life dealt these guys a hand that’s just about as limiting as what I was given. Sure, they have a lot more money, but are they really free? Do they have the freedom I so desperately wanted when I was studying for my bookkeeping certificate?

Seems we’re all birds in a gilded cage.

“Whatcha doing out here?” Niko asks, slinging an arm around my shoulders.

I’m not cold, but I snuggle into his warmth anyway. When I do, I get a whiff of his scent, which I can only describe as clean and manly, as if the soap he uses is lightly scented with lime.

In another lifetime…

No. I can’t think like that.

Thisis my life. And it’s a fucked-up mess.

But Niko’s touch gives me an idea, something that’s become a fallback of sorts when I want my mind and body to take a vacation to someplace I can’t actually go.

Without a word, I take his hand and lead him to a bench in the garden under a huge old oak, and with my hands on his shoulders, direct him to sit down. I pull up my nightie and straddle him with a knee on either side of his hips. He’s looking up at me, and while I can’t really make out his expression in the dark, I find he’s smiling slightly when I run a finger over his lips.

His beautiful lips, the ones that crook into a half-smile that brings me—and probably all of womanhood—to our knees.

The man has no idea.

As soon as I’m hovering over him, his hands are between my legs, exploring, looking for a sign that will reveal what I want.

Not that there’s any doubt.

When I grind into his palm, he runs his fingers between my lips before zeroing in on my clit. I moan lightly and without a word, he slides his sweatpants below his hips. After a couple strokes of his hard cock, he directs himself toward my opening.

I bury my head into the crook of his shoulder and lower myself onto him, instantly transporting myself away from the deviant life that’s sucked me into its clutches, and toward a sort of nirvana, however temporary, where suffering either disappears or never actually existed to begin with.

I raise and lower myself on him and the only sound is our breath and the breeze in the oak tree above us, and I’m floating through the headiness of my approaching orgasm. In a moment of lucidity, I wish life could be like this all the time, all day and night where mothers don’t die, fathers don’t gamble, and little sisters are happy.