47. Dimitri
47
DIMITRI
T his is hell.
And I deserve to be in it.
Her fever keeps climbing. She’s been asleep for hours. We tried to wake her, but she’s been unresponsive and disoriented.
I place a cool, damp washcloth over her forehead.
Seeing her like this keeps taking me back to when she was in a coma. It keeps reminding me of the long nights and hopeful days. Back then, I didn't know if she would ever wake up. Even the doctors said that her chances of a full recovery were slim.
But I got a full recovery.
I got a miracle.
And I screwed it all up.
My eyes fall to her diary. She wrote about all of our nights together except for the night that changed everything.
The past
We're in our usual spot. The Rustic Fig.
She just devoured a plate of spaghetti and meatballs, and now she's eating apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. I can't stop looking at the diamond ring on her finger.
"Have you told anyone?" I ask, nodding at the ring.
She blinks. The smile fades from her lips. "I wanted to tell my sister, but I haven't yet. You?"
"I wanted to tell my brother," I say. I leave the rest of the words unsaid. The part about how he’s still being tortured by the ‘ Ndrangheta .
"I'm sorry." She reaches for my hand across the table.
"It's only a matter of time before I find him."
The guilt is always there. It's always waiting for me after I drop Briar off at her house. It's my constant companion when I try to sleep at night.
"Can I say something?"Briar asks, pushing her plate aside.
"Anything," I say.
"You don't look well," she says. "You stay up all night with me. You work all day. Have you been sleeping at all?"
"It's nothing I'm not used to."
"I want you to take better care of your health."
"Don't worry about me."
"Don't give me anything to worry about, then," she says sternly. "Okay?"
Her violet eyes are serious as she looks at me. It's not until I met Briar that I realized how much sweetness a woman could bring to my life.And as I look at her now, I want nothing more than to make out with her in my car.
I catch the waitress's attention.
"Can we please get the rest of this to go?” I ask, gesturing to Briar's pie.
“Wait, what about my ice cream?” Briar says.
“They’ll take care of it,” I say.
“You can’t pack ice cream,” Briar says.
Briar scoops up a giant spoonful of ice cream before they take her plate away. Her tongue darts out to eat the ice cream in tiny little bites.
"Baby girl, if you eat your ice cream like that, I'm going to make you get on your knees and suck my cock in the middle of this diner."
She blushes for me. "You wouldn't."
"Lick that ice cream again, and you'll find out just how depraved I can be."
"I honestly can't tell if you're joking or not.”
Some of the ice cream drips down her fingers. When it touches her diamond ring, she stares down at it. And keeping her eyes on me, she licks the trail of melted ice cream.
"You just had to test me, didn't you?" I say. "You just had to go and push all of my buttons."
The waitress sets the container down before us. Being interrupted by someone should break the tension between us, but we're still drawn to each other like the opposite poles of a magnet.
“Thank you,” I say to the waitress.
When we're alone again, I stand and walk toward Briar.
"What are you doing?" she whispers.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" I reply.
"Okay, I'll stop." She puts the remaining chunk of ice cream in her mouth. She chews the ice cream and swallows it.
"Move over," I say.
She doesn't. "Dimitri, you are not allowed to ruin this place for me. I won't be able to show my face around here again if you do something unhinged."
And then she frowns and squeezes her eyes shut.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"Brain freeze, brain freeze, brain freeze," she says.
I burst out laughing. "Let's get out of here."
She stands. Her frown deepens, and she pushes at my chest. "It's nice to know you find my pain amusing."
We walk out of the diner. The streets are quiet, without a single person in sight.
I wrap my arm around her.
"When should I come over?" I ask.
"Hmm?" She looks up at me.
"To meet your family," I clarify.
She looks like a deer in headlights. "Why?"
"Traditionally, I'm supposed to ask for your father's blessing," I say.
"Does that matter to you?" she asks.
“It matters to me if it matters to you,” I say.
We stop in front of my parked car. It’s a vintage one today—an Aston Martin DB5. I open the door for her, but she doesn't get inside.
She turns to look at me. "Dimitri, there's something you need to know about my family. I should have told you this a long time ago, but?—"
I tune out the rest of her sentence because I spot a black SUV driving down the road. And it’s moving at a leisurely pace. It wouldn't bother me usually, but alarm bells are going off in my head.
And I'm proved right when the windows roll down to reveal men holding Glock 17s. They point their guns in our direction and start shooting. I push down on Briar's head, hiding her behind the car.
“Stay in your fucking lane, Drakonov,” one of the men screams.
I reach into my shoulder holster and draw my gun. I return fire. At the same time, I reach for the holster over my chest, pulling out a second gun. I want to reassure Briar, but all of my focus is on the men who dared to shoot when I had my woman with me.
All of this happens in seconds, but each one feels dragged out.
They roll their windows up and drive away. I quickly reach into the trunk of my car and reach for the Barrett M82, a semi-automatic that can cause serious damage even to armored tires. I call for assistance as I shoot at the receding vehicle.
“Pavel, there’s been a shooting at the diner. I need you to track down the vehicle.” I give him the make and model of the car.
“On it,” Pavel says, instantly alert. “Should I send anyone to the diner?”
“No, we’re fine,” I say. “Focus on tracking down the black SUV.”
I lower my rifle when the car is out of sight. My men were parked a few blocks away to avoid suspicion. They usually don’t leave my side, but I’ve been getting lax with my rules lately. And I almost paid the price for it.
I walk toward her now and help her to her feet. There’s a pinch in my shoulder that I ignore.
“Are you okay, solnishko ? Are you hurt?” I ask her.
She still has her hands pressed over her ears.She’s trembling like a leaf.
I’ve been in hundreds of shootings before. I barely notice the ringing in my ears. I barely register the echo of violence in the air. But Briar is shaken to the core. She can barely look me in the eye.
Withstanding the sound of gunfire takes getting used to.
And...I don't want her to get used to it.
And just like that, unwelcome thoughts fill my brain. I wonder if I'm selfish for wanting to make her my woman.
"Briar, are you hurt?" I ask again.
"They...they shot you, Dimitri," she says, splaying her hands over my chest and checking for bullet wounds.
"I'm wearing a vest," I reassure her. "Nothing happened to me."
That's not entirely true. One of the bullets almost caught me. It only grazed my right arm. I don’t feel the pain yet because of the adrenaline, but I’m aware that I’m bleeding through my shirt.
"Who were they?" Briar asks. Her voice is louder than usual. She's trying to speak over the ringing in her ears.
"Get in the car," I tell her. "I'll explain everything."
She looks numb as she sits down in the passenger seat. I close the door behind her and see that she dropped her box of leftover apple pie. The sight of it on the ground elicits a pang in my chest. It feels like it symbolizes something much more than apple pie.
With every minute that Briar spends with me, I'm dragging her deeper and deeper into my darkness. I'm asking her to be a part of my world. She thinks that she wants it because she cares about me, but will she feel the same way a few years down the line? Or will she resent me for it?
I walk around the car and get in the driver's seat. Dark thoughts swim in my head.
What happened tonight was a harsh reminder of how quickly things can go south if I'm not careful.
I press the number on my speed dial that connects me to Pavel. He picks up right away.
" Da, Pakhan ?" he says.
"Where are they?" I ask him.
"We have an eye on their vehicle as we speak," he says. "We're just waiting for your instructions."
"Don't shoot," I say. "But send me their live location."
"You got it," Pavel says.
I hang up.
A second later, I see a location on my car's dashboard. I click on it, and it shows that the black SUV is only minutes away.
"You're going after them?" Briar asks. "After they tried to shoot at you?"
“They weren’t aiming to kill,” I say.
“Are you serious right now?” she asks.
"I need you to trust me, princess," I say.
"Have you completely lost your mind?" Briar asks. All of her fear morphs into anger. "Why on earth do you want to go after them?"
"This is my life, princess," I say. "This is what I do."
"You could get hurt," she says.
When she says that, I remember that she was standing right in front of me when the bullets were fired. She could have gotten hurt too.
I fight the urge to shoot at something just to let the rage out.
"Does Saturday night work?" I ask.
"What?" she asks.
"To announce our engagement to your family," I say.
"Oh my God," she says. "You're completely insane."
"We're going to have to tell them eventually, baby," I say. "Unless you'd rather run away with me?"
A gloom falls over her face. She’s still visibly shaken by the drive-by shooting.
"Hey," I say, glancing over at her. "Look at me."
When she doesn't lift her head, I reach for her thigh. She tries to pull away, but I hold her tighter.
"Briar, as long as you're by my side, nothing bad will happen to you," I say.
She still doesn't meet my eye. I see her lips wobble.
"And what if something happens to you?" she asks.
And once again, her question catches me off guard. I'm used to having my men rely on me, but I never had someone care about me like this.
"I know what I'm doing, solnishko ," I say. "You're just going to have to trust me."
She glances at the dash. We're getting closer to the SUV.
"This feels like a bad idea, Dimitri," she says, looking at me. "I have a bad gut feeling about this. I'll never ask you to do anything else again. Just please, turn the car around and take me anywhere else."
“I have men for backup,” I say. "It'll be over before you know it."
"That's what I'm afraid of," she whispers.
There’s a curve in the road. The streetlight illuminates the two of us. It feels like we're on a stage and have the spotlight on us for one final dance. One final night.
I should be focused on catching the shooters, but I can'tresist looking over at her.
Her eyes find mine. They always do. Her gaze lowers, landing on my shoulder.
She gasps when she sees the blood. I’m wearing a dark green shirt, so I didn't think it would show. She reaches out to touch it. When she comes away with my blood on her fingers, she whimpers.
"You're bleeding," she says.
"It's just a graze."
"It looks like much more than a graze."
“It’s nothing I’m not used to.”
For once, she's quiet. And her silence scares me. I can handle her rage, but I don't know what to do with her sadness. Tears flow down her cheeks. She turns away and stares out of the window.
"I'm sorry I made you upset," I say. "I'll make it up to you later."
She'll forget all about this soon. I'll make sure of it.
I glance down to make sure that her seat belt is fastened. And then I hit the accelerator, closing in on the enemy vehicle. I call Pavel once again to let him know I'm only four minutes away.
"There's an industrial area ahead,” I say to him. "Herd them there. We need to make sure that there are no witnesses."
I slam the accelerator hard. My men are already at work, carrying out my orders so that when I finally kill them, it'll be as seamless as possible.
I slow down when we reach the location.
Rows of abandoned warehouses are bathed in moonlight and shadows. Weeds and cracked asphalt mar the ground, forming potholes I try to avoid. I see my men standing in the distance, surrounding the shooters. I park underneath a dim, flickering streetlight.
I lean down between Briar's legs. She gasps when she sees my hand disappearing between her thighs. I reach for the lever below her car seat and push it as far back as it will go.
"Get down and hide," I tell her. "It'll be over before you know it."
I expect her to put up a fight, but she doesn't. She does exactly what I tell her to do.
"Please be safe," she says.
The spark that's usually there in her eyes is gone. They're empty, like she's retreating into herself instead of being her usual vibrant self. I hate that I'm the reason she's become like this tonight.
I get out of the car and lock it after me.
Rage simmers inside me as I scan the area. The moon casts eerie shadows across the graffiti-covered warehouse before me. It’s rusty metal doors are open, revealing insides that look like the depths of a cave. Even the air itself smells like decay.
"They're disarmed," Pavel says, walking up to me. "We have them ready for questioning."
"Good," I say, glancing back at the car where I left Briar.
There's barely any light to see by. I don't see her, but I know she's watching.
A few feet in front of me, the four shooters are lined up on their knees with their hands tied behind them. It's apparent from their smug faces that they work for someone important. They're looking at the face of death and smiling at it.
“Who sent you fucking rodents?” I roll up my sleeves as I walk toward them. “Whoever it is, they won’t be able to protect you tonight. You’re all going to die anyway, but if you want to die with dignity, I suggest you speak up now.”
Not a single one of them says a word.
I examine their faces. I have many enemies, but I have only one who could be this cocky.
The ‘ Ndrangheta .
The same Italian family who took my brother.
These men were not sent to kill me but to deliver a message.
The ‘ Ndrangheta wants me to back off. It would be the smart thing to do, but my blood burns for vengeance more than ever right now.
“I don’t have all fucking night,” I say, lifting my gun and pointing it at the first man.
He only sneers at me.
"You should watch your back, Drakonov,” he says. "You might be surprised by what lurks in the shadows.”
The rest of them smirk as well, looking at me like they know something I don’t.
The hair on the back of my neck rises.
It's a windy night, but I'm sure I just heard my car door closing. I turn around.
A man in a long black coat is standing behind Briar.