Chapter 43: Chapter 43

Charleigh

Why the hell is my sister calling me if she’s just down the hall?

Unless… she isn’t…

I swipe the call open. “Evie, can you just walk down to my room if you want to talk?” I start to hang up when I hear whimpering.

What the hell.

“Char, Char,” she says breathlessly, “I’m not… I’m not at the compound—”

I’m going to kill her. That’s it. I’m just going to kill this kid.

In the background, I hear a door shut and clothes hangers jingle. Is she in a closet?

“Char, I’m at home. Like, our home. Oh, Char, I’m scared. One of my friends just called to tell me the pawn shop burned down.”

What?

No.

Burned down? Like in flames?

No. God no.

“I’m on my way,” I growl. “Don’t move a fucking finger. Do you hear me?”

I’m silent as Kir speeds across town to what Evie refers to as ‘her real home.’ Actually, no one in the car makes a sound, including Vadik in the front passenger seat.

Inside the hermetically sealed thrum of Kir’s very expensive Mercedes, outside noise is reduced to the extent where I suspect we can all hear my heart thumping against my chest.

Is this going to be another arcade situation? Is this a set-up, one that my foolish sister agreed to, which strangely made sense to her developing teenage brain?

Am I putting Kir and Vadik in danger the way I did Frank, not to mention myself?

Dear God, please don’t let this be another trap. I just want to get my sister, drag her back to the compound, and lock her in her room until she’s a legal adult. Then she can do all the bone-headed things she wants to because there will be nothing I can do about it. And hopefully at that point, I won’t care anymore. I can only bring this kid along so far. If she wants to live her life like a little fool, and so far it’s looking like that, it’s her choice.

I can only lead her so far, and I can honestly say I’m close to throwing in the towel right now, even though the punk is still underage and is about as far from adulthood as a teenager can be.

I didn’t ask, because I was afraid to, but I’m hoping Kir drives past the pawn shop so I can see if it really burned. I know we don’t have time for that right now—the priority is Evie—but I just want to know.

The truth is, however, I am almost positive Kir is actually avoiding driving past the pawn shop until we get more information about what the hell is going on with it, and whether it’s even safe for us to approach it.

Then there’s the question of Pops. It’s eerie—heartbreaking, really—how when Evie called, she became my first priority, followed by the safety of the guys when they told me they’d take me to her. Pops only crossed my mind later, much later, when it occurred to me to wonder where the hell he was. My father didn’t even rank. Truth is, he doesn’t deserve to, and if that’s not tragic, I don’t know what is.

I never thought I’d get to a point like this about my father, but then I never thought about a lot of thing things my life has turned into.

Just one freaking surprise after another.

After I mutilated the second’s hand yesterday, I was shocked as hell they made Dominika clean up the mess rather than me. If that woman didn’t already resent the hell out of me, she sure does now. In fact, because she’s the kind of person who always needs to deliver her parting shot, as she was leaving the room, she took the time to tell me how she really feels about me.

“You’re just another Alekseev whore. Wait ‘til they’re done with you. You’ll be ruined. You’ll be less than nothing,” she hissed.

I sighed and picked at the manicure Evie tried to give me, already chipping and looking like crap. “You should know, Dominika. You should know.”

That’s when Vadik jumped to his feet, certain he was going to have to break up a cat fight. But Dominika just left, and when Vadik sat back down, his expression was part amusement, part annoyance.

Two for one. I’m getting good at that.

“Charleigh, for the rest of the day, can you just not stir up any more shit? No more hitting people, no more being a big mouth? Just for one day? Please?”

I nodded obediently, although I think we both know that, given the chance, I’d do what I did all over again. The guys can’t really get too mad about that. After all, they turned me into this… whatever I am.

I had a few hours of feeling impressed with my bad self, which should have been a warning. As my mother used to say, ‘pride goeth before a fall.’ Just as I settled in for a good night’s sleep, smug in the knowledge that I bested two of my biggest adversaries, comes the call from Evie, yanking me out of my self-important confidence, back to the shittiness of my real life.

Something always, always, has to go wrong.

Why, God? Why can’t I just have a full twenty-four hours of easy living? Why does everything have to be such a freaking challenge?

God doesn’t answer.

When we arrive at my father’s apartment complex, we drive around a few times so the guys can assess the situation. When things seem safe, or at least as safe as they can be, Kir parks in the back of the building and we approach it, with them in the lead, guns drawn.

Like Vadik says, this will not be a repeat of what happened last time I went to fetch Evie.

I’m not as confident.

My adrenaline is running like a firehose, and my head is pounding in time to my heart. This bullshit is going to put me in an early grave, I have no doubt. A body can only take so much fight or flight before it throws in the towel, worn down like an old automotive engine driven way past its prime.

With my key, Kir opens the door to my father’s apartment, ready for anything that might happen. Evie swore to me over the phone she was in there alone, but one, who knows if she’s telling the truth, and two, whether someone’s holding a gun to her head and telling her what to say.

Anything’s possible. I’ve learned that the hard way.

I wait by the door while they clear the place and when they lower their guns to their sides, I rush in.

“Evie! Where are you?”

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

Does it really matter?

“Look, Evie,” Kir says, “I get that you want to be back at school with your friends. Hopefully, someday we can make that happen. But not today. If people are after your father’s shop,” —he pauses before he says too much— “they may also be after you. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee they are.”

Her eyes widen with fear. Are Kir’s words finally sinking in?

I pull Evie to her feet. “Got get a bag and gather up as much stuff as you can. We’re heading back to the compound. I’ll be getting some things too.”

She runs off to her room as Vadik returns. “It’s definitely arson.” He looks around to make sure Evie is out of earshot. “Your father didn’t make it, Charleigh. I’m sorry.”

I stifle a sob. As strange as it is, I wrack my brain for the last time I saw him, wondering whether I was cross with him or not.

I’m pretty sure I was.

And for all that he put me through, I still feel shitty. If I had known his days were numbered, would I have behaved differently?

Would he have?

I gulp. “Do you… do you know if he suffered?” I ask, my voice cracking.

Vadik comes over and puts his hands on either side of my face. “I know for a fact he didn’t suffer, darling. It looks like he was… shot before the fire was set.”

My legs collapse under me and I fall back onto the sofa, the sofa that has been in my family all my life, where I used to watch TV with my mother, where we would sit when opening our Christmas presents, and where I would nap on the days I stayed home from school sick. For a moment, I wonder what will happen to this faded sofa, whose cushions are compressed from a lifetime of sitting and whose arms are in tatters. I look around the room. The likelihood is, it will go to the dump. Everything will go to the dump.

A lifetime of memories, taken to the dump.

How perfectly appropriate.

“C’mon, Charleigh,” Vadik says, helping me to my feet. “Let’s pack up some things and head back to the compound.”

I nod and let him lead me toward the bedrooms, but then stop. “I’m worried about Victoria. Did they say a woman was found in the store, by chance?”

Vadik shakes his head. “Your father was alone.”

“Can we stop by Victoria’s place then? On the way back to the compound?” I ask.

“Of course, darlin’,” Vadik says, kissing my forehead.

* * *

“Why are you taking some of Dad’s things?” Evie asks. “Did something happen to him… in the fire?”

I hate to lie, but I can’t talk about Pops right now.

“We… don’t know yet. But we will soon.”

That seems to satisfy her, and she throws a small duffel in Kir’s trunk. I notice she also has the teddy bear from her nightstand, a long-ago gift from our mother.

“We’re swinging by Vic’s to see if she’s home, Evie. Then we’ll go back to the compound.”

She nods distractedly, scrolling through TikTok like a comforting security blanket.

“Hello?” I call, slowly entering Victoria’s apartment after the guys clear it.

“It’s so dark. And empty,” Evie says, holding onto the side of my shirt.

I flick on a light and it’s obvious someone has moved out, and moved out fast. There is crap all over the place, as if Victoria went through her things and selected only the items she couldn’t live without. Drawers are pulled from dressers, clothes are strewn all over, the closet is full of empty hangers, and even the pillows are missing from her unmade bed.

I guess if I was taking off, I’d take my pillow too.

I wander to the kitchen and see cabinet doors hanging open, some empty and some full, most likely because Victoria had to be selective about what she brought on her journey. There’s a cold cup of tea on the counter with a tea bag still in it, as if Victoria was making herself a cup and was interrupted.

Interrupted by what? How much does she know? Is her life in danger?

A lump grows in my throat and I realize how tired I am of crying, how the grief never seems to stop coming, and how the universe just won’t give me a goddamn break.

I’m tired. So tired. Of it all.

“C’mon, Charleigh. It’s obvious she’s not here. She left in a hurry. Okay?” Kir asks, rubbing my back.

I take one last look around at this place that’s not unlike my father’s—shabby but well-loved furniture, a few trinkets acquired over the years, and the sense of someone who’s inhabited a place for a very long time.

She must have been scared shitless to leave the way she did.

Before we head out, I run back to her room. I want something of hers, anything, something small. I spot her fluffy bedroom slippers and pull them to my chest like they’re some great treasure or something. Some people might think my choice creepy, but I am comforted by holding something so clearly Victoria’s.

I have so many questions tumbling around in my head, not to mention the need to somehow break the news to Evie about our father, but I just want to get back to the compound because it’s the only place where I feel a modicum of safety. The only thing that could make me feel safer, aside from Dimitri being buried six feet under, is if I could carry a weapon like the guys do. In fact, before we left to collect my sister, I ran to the gun cabinet, which was locked, of course. I’ve been practicing my shooting and plan to show the guys my new expertise first chance I get. If they let me.

But that’s no guarantee they’ll finally grant me the privilege of having a firearm. As Niko tried to explain, I might have gained the physical skills to use a gun, but I am a long way from having the emotional skills. He has a point.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not impatient.

I know they want to see me more in control, more level-headed before I carry a gun, but with the rage bubbling over inside me, I am not convinced that will ever happen. And if Dimitri is behind my father’s death, well, that might just push me over an edge that I’m already precariously close to.

I mean, how much does one person have to fucking take before they crack?