CHAPTER NINETEEN
YURI
Where do I even start? How do you tell the girl that you have known since you were seven that you knew you were going to marry her from the moment you laid eyes on her? How do you tell that same girl that your family had to leave in the middle of the night and send a cleaning crew, a fucking cleaning crew, to destroy all traces of your life because your uncle had to go and kill some Italian asshole?
How do you tell this sweet, gorgeous, girl that you were staying away to keep her out of your world, to keep her safe, but you aren't sure you're strong enough to stay away? How do you tell her you’ve been keeping an eye on her to make sure she stays safe? This is going to be a lot more complicated than I expected.
I wasn’t going to go into her apartment. I was going to leave the note, send a car to bring her home, and she would never know. But after her unplanned trip to the crime scene and the fact that I’m here in her apartment, looking into those green eyes, I knew it wasn’t enough. She had to know the truth. But how do you tell a girl that your dad is the leader of the Chicago syndicate of the Russian Mafia? That you are set to take over? I guess you just, tell her.
“When we were kids, my family had to assimilate. We needed to be a normal, blue-collar family. But we weren't that then, and we definitely aren’t that now.” I begin watching her face closely for any signs that she would bolt again. I keep going, “My dad does have his own business that my brothers and I are learning how to run, but it is not your run-of-the-mill, family business, Charlie. My family… We are the leaders of the Chicago Russian Mafia syndicate. We moved to the suburbs because my uncle had a problem with shooting people he wasn’t supposed to.” I say quickly and coldly while staring at her, still cautious.
Her mouth opens slightly in shock and her big, green eyes go round. “Go on,” she encourages.
I continue without looking away so she knows and understands that I am telling her the truth. “My dad moved us out of the city to start over. To wipe the slate clean. My father explained it to me much later. He wanted me and my brothers to grow up away from the people who wanted to harm him. He wanted us to blend in. Father said it would be easier to find out who is trying to stab him in the back when they don't know where he is. He knew if people didn’t know who his children were, no one could use us against him.”
She just stares and waits patiently for me to go on, concern and worry touching her delicate features.
“So, we moved to this picture perfect suburb with clean houses and big yards and lots of kids our age. The first day I saw you, you were proudly walking around with your shiny, sequin snow owl backpack telling everyone how you were in kindergarten now, which made you one of the big kids.” A small smile tugs at my lips as I remember the first time I saw her.
She began to blush, the pink spreading across her face and creeping just behind her freckles. I continue my reverie, “Big red curls fell down your back and your bright, happy, green eyes grew huge with excitement. When you smiled though, that's when I knew I had to be your friend. Anyone who smiles like that brings joy to anyone they meet and I needed some joy in my life. I knew you’d shine a light even on someone whose family is as dark as mine.”
She pursed her lips and began biting her lower lip, impatiently. If she only knew what that action does to me. I could tell she was trying her best not to ask any questions or interrupt me, so I went on, “I still had my accent back then and a lot of the kids didn't understand me or just didn't care to try, but not you, Charlie. You overheard one of the kids on the bus telling me ‘to go back to my own country.’”
I grin and she chuckles softly. I keep talking and walking us down memory lane, “Now as an adult, I understand why they say redheads have a lot of fire.” I chuckle and take her hand in mine, “You were so mad that anyone would say something so mean. You went off on him so fast! Then, you grabbed my hand when we got off at our stop, and you told me that we were now best friends.” I smile remembering how good that statement made me feel, “You said you would protect me because that is what best friends do. For years, we rode the bus everyday together. We hung out and played every weekend. Every day I was lucky enough to see you smile at me and trust me. We explored the world, well, as much of the world as we could at that age. You were my constant, my safe haven, my everything, and you had no idea.”
“I know. I remember,” she whispers. Her eyes are big and full of unshed tears. She places her mug on the coffee table and looks at me.
“I missed you every -” she cuts me off and all but launches herself at me wrapping her small arms around my neck.
“Why can’t you just let me be mad at you.” She sniffs into my neck as I wrap my arms around her curvy frame. “I want to hate you so bad right now, but then you have to soften the blow with sweet memories and phrases like, you were my safe haven .” She hits me playfully as the tears slowly glide down her face. I move my hands to either side of her cheeks. Her face fits perfectly cradled in my hands as I wipe the tears away.
“I’ve been trying to protect you. If they find out who you are…” Do I tell her what she is to me? She looks at me confused.
“What do you mean? Who? Why would anyone care who I am? I’m nobody -”
I stopped her there, “You’re not nobody Charlie. How could you think that?”
“I’m just a base level journalist. I have no pull with anyone. I just moved here for goodness sake!” She is still looking me right in the eyes as I caress her cheeks and her eyes flutter lightly. She really has no idea does she? I take in a big breath.
“It’s not just who you are, Charlie, but who you are to me that would be important to them.” I see the space between her brows crease and look up slightly out of the corner of her eye. She always made this face as a kid when she was trying to process something that confused her.
“Who is this ‘they’ you keep referring to? Why would they care that we were friends as kids?” She asks, still confused.
I sigh once more realizing I am going to have to spell this out for her. It's clear she has no idea the hold she has not only on my heart but my entire being.
“Charlie, you’re mine , and I am yours , always have been, and always will be. I won’t let anyone take you away from me again. Do you understand?” I can tell when the realization hits her. Her gasp is the sweetest thing I have ever heard.
In this moment, here with her in my arms, I stop hiding who I am and I let every wall down because if I can’t be myself in front of her, then how is she going to trust me? I need her to trust me so I can keep her safe.