12. New Rules
Chapter twelve
New Rules
Vincent’s people jostled Jolie up the stairs with Helina in her arms, and they shoved her into the child’s bedroom, locking her in. Jolie stood frozen, losing strength as the seconds passed. The shock was setting in, blinding her, numbing her. Helina slipped out of her hold and dived into her blankets, wailing into her pillow.
Jolie blinked, looking around, trying to understand what happened. It was a nightmare. It couldn’t have been real, but the sinking feeling in her gut wouldn’t fade. It felt like a worm was eating her intestines. Jolie turned in a circle, clueless about what to do next.
Adrik and Alexei were gone. Gil was on the run. Yakov was dead.
Jolie went to the bed and sat. She placed a hand on Helina’s back. There were no words of reassurance. How could there be? Jolie didn’t know for sure anything would be alright again. Helina was a hostage. And Jolie had stupidly put herself in the middle.
She could hear her mother now: ‘You’re too nice. Sometimes, people deserve their choices. You can’t fix them all.’
As the little girl continued to cry, holding her stuffed doggy with tears running down her chubby cheeks, Jolie felt a strength awaken. She would be Helina’s protector, keeping her safe, just as she promised. And though Jolie was terrified and ready to break down, she dug Helina up and wrapped her arms around her.
“ Where are Mommy and Daddy?”
Jolie’s understanding was slow, but she squeezed her tighter as soon as she comprehended those words. Communication between them would be difficult for a time. There was no phone to help her translate. She only knew a few words in Russian. But Jolie spoke anyway, hoping her tone would get through if nothing else. “I’m gonna get us out of here, okay? Don’t worry, Helina. I’m not leaving your side.”
Helina was only learning the basics of English, but she nodded as if she understood it.
Jolie began to plan. If they were hostages, then she needed to protect them. Vincent and his baboons didn’t know the rooms were connected, so Jolie went through Katia’s room, diving into drawers. Most were empty, but inside her nightstand, Jolie found a knife. She took it and found a new hiding place inside one of Helina’s stuffed bears. She put it on a shelf as if it were a decoration.
If I have to fight, she told herself. I’m gonna win.
Jolie wasn’t going to let anyone hurt that little girl. Even if it jeopardized her life. Jolie looked around the room, searching for ways to block the door and items she could use if she had to fight someone off.
When Helina yawned, Jolie got her in bed. A little musical bear lit up beside her. It was nearly one in the morning, and Adrik’s birthday was officially over. A day that had begun with warmth and love now ended with blood and loneliness. Jolie rested her head beside Helina’s, running her fingers through her blonde curly hair. Her puffy dress made noise every time she moved, but she was too tired to change out of it. Everything Jolie was feeling meant so very little compared to her. Helina watched her father get taken away to jail, she saw her grandfather get murdered, she was separated from her mother and grandmother, and though she might not realize it yet, she was kidnapped. Jolie’s suffering was pitiable, and she’d do anything to ease the little girl’s pain.
When Helina finally fell asleep, Jolie got up. Without having to care for Helina, all her insecurities were creeping in, like a thick fog. The tears were coming, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to stop a sudden sob. She felt Adrik’s loss like a missing limb. All his protection, all the comfort he gave her, was now an emptiness that made her nauseous.
She made her way through the joined doorway to find her bed. She prayed the maids hadn’t had time to come and clean her room, and Adrik’s scent would still be present in her blankets, but upon finding her bed pristinely made, Jolie’s legs gave out, and she collapsed in the doorway. A sob broke through, and Jolie rushed to close the door so Helina couldn’t hear. She curled her legs into her chest, hugging her knees as her body shook. The tears only got stronger, and she let it come, let it consume her. All hope for a future was destroyed. The little flame of excitement and adventure was snuffed out before it ever truly began.
‘You’re jumping onto a sinking ship,’ Agent Mally had said to her. ‘This family is going down, and you are so stupid to think it will be happy ever after.’
Mally tried to warn Jolie, but Jolie put too much faith in Adrik’s invincibility. He was human, after all, so far from all-powerful.
Jolie clenched her legs tighter, wishing her mother was here. Heather was going to find out about Adrik soon, wasn’t she? Would she come looking for Jolie? Or maybe she’d call the cops, freak out, and come knocking on the door demanding to see her. Would Vincent kill her? Jolie knew nothing about this version of him. She didn’t know what he was capable of.
Ming and Tae-Tae came from the shadows and meowed as they crawled on her. Her cats were her only comfort, and she crushed her face against them to cry into their furs.
Not an hour later, a man came to the door. He found Jolie curled on the floor and was careless as he roughly lifted her to her feet, pulling her along and making her trip over herself. He carried an AK at his hip and was dressed in black, with thick, heavy boots that pounded against the white flooring.
Jolie’s eyes went wide as they traveled down the stairs.
All the decorations had been torn down, and the furniture had been brought back in. The spot where Yakov had been shot was covered by a big, ugly bear rug that didn’t match anything, taken from Yakov’s office. They brought in random furniture from around the house, making the grand living room their lounge. Men and women partied, all of the Morozov liquor on the table. Loud Spanish music blasted, and there were lines of cocaine on the table with a bowl full of pills. Guns lay forgotten, and they trampled the pristine white carpet with carelessness. She despised every single one of them. It was degradation on top of degradation. The amount of disrespect would have Adrik set the house on fire.
Jolie was brought to the back hallway, where the white marble turned into dark mahogany wood. The wooden doors that were always closed and guarded had been busted open, and pieces of wood splintered. In Yakov’s office, at his desk, Vincent sat.
Vincent had a large Cuban cigar between his lips as he smiled at her, leaning back in the leather chair. He had removed his jacket and shirt, leaving him bare from the waist up. Devil tattoos decorated his tanned skin. A familiar spider tattoo crawled along his clavicle and up into his neck, and three gold chains hung over his pectorals.
Jolie shrunk into herself, feeling the weight of Vincent’s hazel eyes as he studied her.
“You shouldn’t have been here, JoJo.”
Jolie wiped a tear off her cheek and refused to look at him.
“You ain’t a prisoner here. You can go home, if you want.”
Jolie’s eyes popped to him. Hope ignited in her chest, and she nearly sobbed in relief. She nodded, thankful, and for a moment, the look on his face was everything she remembered. He was there. The boy she had loved more than life was in the body of a killer. She was relieved that everything she knew about him wasn’t gone .
“But,” he added as he leaned up on the desk, “you witnessed a murder, didn’t you?”
Jolie’s eyes widened, and she quickly shook her head, but Vincent continued before she could speak. “And we both know how you love to talk to the police.”
Her brows knitted in agony, and her head fell to hide the devastation. He wouldn’t know how horrible he made her feel. How could he? He didn’t know about the years it took to get over what she did to him. He didn’t know how she needed therapy and religious intervention. And he didn’t know how she had done the same stupid thing with Adrik. Oh, Jolie never hated herself more.
Vincent leaned back in the chair, taking a big intake of the expensive cigar. He never tasted tobacco as rich as this, but it was something he could get used to. He watched Jolie and ran his eyes down her body. The dress was everything she wasn’t. Even for prom, Jolie wore a dress that went down to her ankles and hugged her neckline. The only thing it had been was tight, but she had worn thick-lined panties that showed through. All his friends had made fun of her for it, and he spent the night making threats to keep them quiet.
She kept her head bowed, her brown curled hair long down her back. It disgusted him to see makeup on her. Smeared eyeliner and mascara ruined her face. She was trying to be something she wasn’t. No doubt, she was trying to impress a man who would never go for someone like her.
He sighed. “What are you doing here, JoJo?”
Jolie sniffed and rubbed a tear off her cheek. “I told you. I’m Helina’s tutor. ”
“For a mafia?” he growled. “You aren’t stupid. So, I’ll ask again. What are you doing here?” He studied her, searching for the truth. He knew what he saw at the party, but he wanted her to say it. The quiet continued, her shame as apparent as the glitter on her chest. “Got a thing for bad guys, huh, JoJo?” Vincent watched, waiting for an answer to come across her face. “He come to your bed after fucking his wife? You his whore?”
Jolie snapped her head up. “Don’t talk to me like that.”
Vincent smirked. “There she is.” He proudly chuckled. Vincent knew Jolie like the back of his hand and so he changed his words to accommodate. “Were you dating him?”
“No.”
His tongue played with the piercing on his lip. Would she remember how she said she hated it? Jolie was never one for piercings and tattoos, but the woman standing before him was different from who he knew. How much had she changed? “You fuck him?” Vincent needed her to say it, if only to gauge how much she was willing to lie.
Jolie couldn’t stand his one-track mind. “What the hell is wrong with you? You just killed someone, Vincent! You murdered him.” A hand came across her lips as her body shook. She could still see how heavy Yakov’s body fell. Hear the screams echo out of Tatianna as she dived on top of her husband. It was so much that Jolie felt the world crashing on her, and she couldn’t breathe. She tried to suck in breath, but her throat refused to open. She clawed at her throat and gasped and struggled to breathe.
Vincent was beside her in a heartbeat, guiding her to the couch. “Put your head between your legs.” With a hand on the back of her neck, he leaned down. “Relax, mami. Just focus on breathing.”
Jolie stared at her heels and painted toes and remembered what it felt like preparing for Adrik’s birthday party. She had been euphoric, still coming down from the high of his touch. She remembered what it felt like to wake up next to Adrik, to watch him sleep, the first time she saw him so relaxed and untroubled. He had been beautiful.
Vincent’s hand rubbed her back. “Still have attacks, huh?”
Jolie’s eyes narrowed. She had only started having panic attacks after Vincent robbed a bank. As soon as he was out of her life, they miraculously stopped. Jolie shivered in disgust and shifted out of his reach, scooting to the far side of the couch and hugging the armrest.
Vincent scoffed and fell back against the cushion. “It wasn’t my first time, JoJo.”
Her brows depressed at such a confession. Vincent was dead—that’s all that could really compute—and this was a shadow, a demon walking around in his skin.
The spider tattoo on his clavicle stared at her. “Did you send that man to hurt me?”
He shook his head. “Santi did that. I'll punish him for it.”
“And who are you to do something like that? Punish someone? To break into the Morozovs and kill Yakov?”
He stayed silent, letting her figure it out.
“You’re the leader? Of the, um…” She searched her memory for the name. “Toxins, right?” Every memory of them watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns and snuggling in the round chair in her room took this mo ment to play in her head, messing with her. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing happened, JoJo. I’ve always been like this.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true.”
Vincent shoved himself off the couch and returned for his cigar, taking it between his lips as he leaned against the mahogany desk. Everything in here was worth more than he’d ever possessed. The fucking desk was more than his car. The cigar was probably as much as his car payment. It was ridiculous what Yakov spent money on. But it didn’t matter, did it? Because it was all his. The smoke swirled to the ceiling before he spoke again. “I lied to you about a lot of things. But it was for your own good.”
A scoff came out unhindered, but she stared at the floor, refusing to look at him.
“My father, his father, and his father before him were drug traffickers. It’s in my blood. I’m a beast, baby. Sorry to disappoint.”
The ‘hood’ spiel unnerved her because she knew how fake it was. “Your ‘blood’ know how you cried during Marley and Me ? Don’t try to act like a tough guy. You lived in a run-down trailer, with foil on the windows and a Dragon Ball Z poster above your bed.”
Vincent’s humor disappeared as he narrowed his eyes. “Then I spent five years in prison. Why is that, JoJo?”
“Because you robbed a bank.” There was a tremble to her that she didn’t like, even as she ground her teeth. The guilt from that time in her life was sneaking up like PTSD. “You weren’t like this. Even then.”
“Yeah, well, prison’s a fucked-up place, and I was eighteen when I got inside. Any boy that was in me was beaten out of me, day after day. But it don’t dissolve the fact that I was made for this life. My mom kept me from my father for years, but the moment I turned eighteen, I was allowed to leave. My initiation was that damn bank. And I would have been sitting like a king instead of being thrown in fucking jail if—” Vincent cut himself off. She got the point.
Jolie wiped a tear from her cheek. She remembered how she lay crumpled on the bed, crying, and he knelt beside her and held her hand. ‘JoJo, you have to keep quiet. They’ll arrest both of us. Do you understand?’
Vincent scratched the back of his head. He was remembering it, too. “I didn’t bring you here to fight you, JoJo. Or to reminisce.”
Jolie bit her cheek to keep herself from crying. This was the last thing she wanted to face. She wanted to go home and curl up in her mother’s lap. She wanted to talk to Adrik to get his assurance that everything would be alright. But it wasn’t, was it? Would it ever be?
“I need a caretaker for Helina. I’ll hire out if I have to. But if you want a job, you can have it. I’ll pay you. What was he giving you? A thousand a week? I’ll double it.”
Jolie wanted to hurt him. And what better way than going after a man’s pride? “It was four,” she bit, hoping it was like a slap.
But Vincent chuckled as he blew out smoke and met her gaze. “He was fucking you, wasn’t he?”
“I know you think every girl’s purpose is to be used by an asshole, but I’ve never been like the girls you cheated on me with.” Jolie stood. “I’ll stay for Helina. But I want a phone.”
Vincent flicked the ashes on the floor. He was disappointed in her lies. “Can’t.”
“Why? ”
“Don’t know who you know. Can’t have you calling none of his friends.”
“I don’t know anyone.”
A dry smile pushed its way through, and Vincent shook his head. “I think our trust broke years ago.”
The response was a punch to her gut, and she bowed her head. He made her feel like the lost teenage girl she used to be, and she despised him for it. “My parents will worry.”
Vincent nodded as he stood. “I’m sure they will.” With a hand on her back, he ushered her out the door. “Maybe being on the opposite end of the silent treatment will make them learn it’s a dick move.”