36. Katerina
CHAPTER 36
Katerina
It almost takes a miracle to get Roman to agree to my plan.
After several days of asking, begging, pleading, and insisting I can handle it, I’m a step away from turning to prayer when he finally caves.
He pulls me close and peers intensely into my eyes, speaking in a tone that’s calm yet strangely authoritative all at once.
“I swear, devochka, if something goes fucking wrong…” He trails off with a deep breath.
I sense the undercurrent of pure rage that exists inside him and rush to quell his concerns. Sliding my hands up his broad, muscled chest, I rise up on tiptoe and kiss the edge of his jaw.
“Everything will be fine. You and your men will be in the area. You’ll be watching me the entire time.”
“If he even looks at you the wrong way…” he starts again before he’s unable to finish. Another difficult breath rumbles out of him like the beast he’s nicknamed after and then he gives up altogether. His large hand slides up the side of my neck and he draws me toward him for a kiss, bowing his head at the same time.
Some would say it’s crazy as hell to do what I’m doing.
Why would I ever volunteer to put myself in harm’s way after what I’ve been through? Why wouldn’t I find comfort in the fact that I have a big, strapping, deadly bratva boyfriend who is willing to nuke the world over me?
It’s not that I don’t.
Roman provides me a sense of safety I’ve never felt before in my life. Maybe that’s what’s helped me reach the conclusion I have.
That I have to do this.
I have to stand up for myself. I have to seek revenge for the first real time in my life.
I’m not going to lay down and take it anymore. I’m done letting men like my foster father and JC and the pakhan hurt me.
They’re going to regret what they’ve done to me. Even if my victories will be small ones. The fact that they’ll be mine and mine only is what matters.
The day arrives where we’ll be carrying out my plan to lure JC.
Roman refuses to let me go until the moment we’re pulling up outside Rosita’s apartment. He turns to me in the backseat of the Hummer and grips me by the shoulders.
“We can abort this,” he says. “You don’t have to go up there, Katerina. We will find him another way.”
I place my hand on top of one of his in reassurance. “It’ll be fine. Rosita says she’s already started dropping hints to mutual friends. JC must’ve heard by now. He’ll be coming by. He’s like a rat that’s gotten a whiff of cheese. I’ve known him for years. There’s no way he’ll stay away if he thinks he can get one over on us.”
Roman brings me in for a deep kiss and then reminds me to keep my mic and cam on at all times. He and his men will be across the street watching every moment.
“Oh hey! I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” Rosita says the moment I turn up on her doorstep. Moving aside with the door wide open, she makes room for me to walk into her apartment.
“We did go over this a million times, didn’t we?” I ask.
“True. Uh, today’s been busy.”
I enter the apartment with my hands deep in my jacket pockets.
The place conjures up feelings of nostalgia. Memories of what my life was like before I was foolish enough to think I could kidnap a bratva boss and make it out unscathed.
Life had been so different before I met Roman.
Back then I crashed on Rosita’s couch and came and went as I pleased.
I survey the familiar cramped living room with her pumpkin-colored sofa and mismatched table lamps and end tables, a bittersweet sensation waking inside me.
“Hasn’t changed much,” Rosita voices aloud as if reading my thoughts. She shuts the door and then crosses the room to the area that’s a kitchenette and dining room rolled into one. The counter space is limited, boxes of cereal and crackers cluttering the space. “But you’ve changed. Your hair!”
I run a hand over my flop attempt at a fade. “I thought it was time for a big chop.”
“You should’ve come to me. I would’ve hooked you up.”
“Would’ve but things have been a little crazy.”
“Oh, uh, right. Want something to drink?”
“I’m good. I’m more concerned with whether JC’s going to actually fall for this.”
“He should,” Rosita answers. She’s turned her back on me, fussing with different cabinets, drawing them open and shut. “I, uh, I let Eduardo know, and you know him and JC go way back.”
“But he’s got to know I wouldn’t be here alone.”
“You never know. You said it yourself. JC isn’t always that smart. He’s a petty person.”
“True.”
I sigh and plop down on her couch, my heartbeat out of sync. It feels like I’ve finished running laps on a track when all I’ve done is walk into Rosita’s apartment.
Ridiculous when I consider the situation.
I’m not alone even if it may seem like I am.
Roman and his men are listening and watching everything from across the street. If anything were to go wrong, they’d be here in sixty seconds flat.
The trap is low risk for me. High risk for JC.
He’s the stupid one that will be walking right into the situation we’ve set up for him. I’ll be able to say that I’ve taken back some semblance of control and played a hands-on role in getting revenge on someone who I thought I could trust.
“Ros, I said no thanks on the drink,” I say once I look up and notice she’s grabbed two cups.
She drops the one in her left hand and then releases a laugh. “My bad. I forgot. Guess I assumed you’d be thirsty. I have that orange soda you like.”
I add my laugh to hers. “You mean the off brand one we used to always order at that diner around the corner?”
“With the cheeseburger and fries and then skip out on the bill?”
“We paid… sometimes,” I say guiltily.
“ When we had it.”
Rosita’s busy scooping up the cup she dropped and pouring herself some of the soda. I take my time looking around the apartment some more.
Not much else has changed.
The TV is still an analog from 1998, weighing about fifty pounds and fuzzing in and out of reception. She still has her grandma’s old china cabinet that’s now filled up with endless DVDs and PlayStation game cases. All of them belonging to Lucero, her son.
My gaze roves some more until it lands on the small, child-sized puffer jacket hanging off the back of one of the chairs to her dining room table.
Both of my brows push together. “Is that Luc’s?”
“What is… oh… yeah, that’s his jacket.”
“You’ve seen him recently?” I ask, confused.
“Um, yeah. You know I’m allowed to set up meetings with the social worker.”
“I thought that was after the court proceedings.”
“No… it’s, uh, anytime.”
I rise from the sofa slowly as I notice the mess Rosita’s made trying to pour herself a cup of orange soda. She’s spilled the sugary drink all over the kitchen counter and can’t even get the lid screwed back on the right way.
“Ros…” I say, frowning. “Your hands are shaking. Are you okay?”
And then it hits me.
The boy’s jacket. Her strange behavior. My racing heartbeat as if my senses were trying to warn me.
I glance at the doors leading to the bathroom and bedroom and realize they’re closed.
Rosita never closed her doors before. She always left them open unless…
“Rosita,” I say. “Who else is in the apartment?”
“Nobody. Why… why are you?—”
“Who the fuck is here?” I snap, rushing toward the front door.
Suddenly, Roman’s voice is in my ear. He’s yelling at me to get the hell out of there. The loud rustling noises tell me he and his men are rushing to make it to me.
But it’s too late.
As I fumble with the doorknob, another door is opening.
It’s the bedroom, and two pairs of feet step out of the room.
The first belonging to a young boy. Lucero shaking almost as much as Rosita’s been, his eyes round and misty as the eight-year-old moves like he’s controlled by marionette strings.
The second pair of feet, belonging to none other than JC, reveal why. He steps into the hall gripping Lucero from behind by the shoulder, a gun in hand.
“I’d get the fuck away from the door if I were you, Kat,” he says. “Now.”
“I’m so sorry,” blurts out Rosita. “But I… I had to. He had Luc.”
“Shut up!” yells JC. “Away from the door, Kat. I mean it! Hands up!”
I’ve frozen where I am, my mind going blank. I do as I’m told, lifting my hands carefully and slowly, showing I’m not going to make any sudden movements. Turning away from the door, I take a few steps toward the other three.
JC grins. “Good. Now sit the fuck down on the couch. You and Rosita. And if you think for a second that your Russian is getting you out of this, you’re fucking wrong. We’ve got you this time.”