13. Bash
Chapter 13
Bash
My phone pings when Stasia’s door opens, letting me know she’s on her way out. I watch her step out onto the sidewalk in front of her house. Her vibrant hair is pulled up into a sleek bun, and she’s wearing loose-fitting black pants and an oversized men’s hoodie. It makes me want to rip it off her and replace it with my own. My fists clench the steering wheel as she climbs into the back of an Uber. Where the hell is her driver? I have more questions about her than answers.
She’s already under my skin, and it’s not even noon. I follow a few car lengths behind as the Uber makes its way deeper into the city. The streets are lined with stores on both sides, and there are women and families carrying bags as they shop. I parallel park when they pull up to a glass storefront, several kids waiting for her to get out. They’re adorable, can’t be older than six, and they run up to Stasia, practically burying her in hugs. Her smile is so bright the air catches in my lungs, and I’m filled with the need to have her smile at me like that. To see her eyes light up with joy just from being close to me. I have a long way to go until that happens, but I’m more determined than ever to make it our reality.
The kids are dressed in ballet uniforms, and they’re practically skipping as they enter the class one by one. Their parents disperse the second Stasia closes the door behind her. I light a smoke as I walk closer, careful to cover my presence behind a sign. The clear glass gives me the perfect view of what’s happening inside. The girls are posing at the bars, wide smiles on their faces. Each time Stasia claps, they change into a new position, wobbling on their feet. For all the fun they’re having, they look serious, determined to achieve perfection even though Stasia’s not pressuring them. She’s proof that motivation can come in all different forms.
Warmth grows in my chest as I imagine my nieces in this class, twirling with wide grins, and I make a note to let Misty and Scarlet know about it.
Everything about her radiates kindness, the kind that would be impossible to ignore.
So why is someone like her risking stealing from the Order of Saints? Even the idea of her getting caught has my gut twisting. It was clear from her texts that her Russian family has something on her, but it’s hard to know what. What kind of leverage would make her so desperate that she’d be willing to go this far? What I do know is I’m not about to let her do it alone.
I send a text to Xander, who just so happens to be in New York where the Russians are located.
Me: What’s the update on the Russians?
Xander: Fuck, can’t you wait a minute. I’m still working on it.
Me: Trust me. It’s important.
Xander: You know they aren’t under the Order’s control. I can’t just walk in there.
Xander: Do you owe them money?
Me: No, I don’t owe them money.
Me: But my girl might.
Xander: Hold up. Your girl. GIRL?
Xander: I leave for a few months and you’ve started calling someone your GIRL?
Xander: I know you’ve been curious, but this is going further than that.
Me: I haven’t caught her yet.
Xander: You know you’re starting to sound like Damon and Matthias. It’s worrying me.
Me: Don’t even joke about that.
Xander: Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.
Me: Oh, I’m not in denial. I just know that Stasia will not let me fuck around like that.
Me: I’m pretty sure I’ve met my match.
Xander: Why am I not surprised you got yourself into this situation?
Me: Cause you know me better than anyone.
Me: Now will you look into the Russians or not?
Xander: Anything for you, baby brother.
Me: Love you too, boo.
Xander: …
I slide my phone into my pocket and enter the alley beside her studio to wait until she’s finished. I’m going to figure her out one way or another, and when I do, I’ll make her mine.