Chapter 24 #2
“Tell him,” Henry interrupts, pulling the lid off his drink and tilting it back, trying to extract the last of the boba from the bottom.
My father turns his head and stares at Henry. “I will.” He faces me again, and his eyes gleam. “We have so much time.”
He rubs his hands together and then snaps his fingers. A chair materializes before me, and my father sinks into it.
He stares at me for a long time and then shakes his head.
“You still don’t look like me. Far too much like her. Not Armenian at all, are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, well, I’ve heard that you don’t remember much. It’s going to be such fun rehashing it. Such good memories.”
He leans back in his chair and sighs happily. He pulls out his phone, typing something out on it, and then places it in his jacket pocket.
“Where’s Emma?” he asks Henry as Henry crunches down on some ice.
“She’s upstairs sharpening her knives. Says she wants to make them very sharp for our brother here.”
“Ah yes, she is very eager. You killed her girlfriend. She’s very mad about it.”
“Who was her girlfriend?” I can’t help but ask.
“A Siren who died in the ambush from the Costellos. You do realize you’re in this mess because of them, right? They have what I want, and you’re my leverage. And also, I’d like a little revenge. Just a little.” He holds up his fingers and then laughs.
Is this all my fault? When Anthony finds out that I’m the weak link, will he dispose of me? Will this be the reason he gives when he extracts me from the family? Like a poison?
“They won’t give it to you, whatever it is.”
“Ah, but I think they will.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “Seems Anthony is very fond of you.”
That makes my heart constrict. I hope he doesn’t do anything to save me.
I don’t want him involved. If this really is because of me, then I want to die down here.
I’ll miss them, but I’d rather not make this worse for any of them.
For Georgiy, too.
Oh.
Georgiy.
“He won’t give you what you want. Anthony puts up with me. Nothing more.”
“That’s not what I heard. But then again, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you are unlovable after all.”
My mind flicks to Georgiy and the way we’d lie in bed, my body on top of his, the strong strokes of his fingers up and down my spine. How I confessed my adoration, and he was silent.
I love you.
He couldn’t even utter those three simple little words.
Maybe I am unlovable.
Maybe my father is right.
But those thoughts are whisked away as he adds, “That’s neither here nor there.
Before I send the pieces of you to Anthony, I’d like to give you time to ask any questions you may have.
I know you have so many. Brains are tricky little things.
Forgetting reality, numbing you to what really happened all those years ago. ”
My hands flex behind me, straining against the constraints around my wrists once more, wanting to sink my fingers into his eyes and feel them burst, but I’m not going anywhere. I’m stuck.
“Go on, Ara. Ask. We always encourage closure. Even if it’s brief.”
I hesitate, wanting to stay silent, but it’s too much. I want to know.
“What’s your name?”
“What do you think it is?”
I say nothing, and he grins. “You can’t remember, can you? What do you call me in your head?”
I refuse to say, just clamp my lips together. He can never know he’s Death. That would just feed his sick little ego far too much.
“I’m Emin. You were named after my father. What a shame to have given you such a name when you ended up such a disappointment.”
I shake my head and then ask, “Where’s my mom?”
“Dead.”
My lungs sharply inhale.
“You probably don’t know her name either.
It was Deborah. She was lovely until I realized she made you soft, and that in every way, you were like her.
So, I took you away, wanted to make you both stronger, less emotional.
But it didn’t work out as planned. The stress of the separation did a number on her and her heart. ”
The thought of it makes my eyes water, but I hold them back, not giving him any more than I want to.
“Do you want to know how she died?”
I can’t form the words, but he can see the yearning on my face.
“Oh, it’s too good. Too fucking good. I couldn’t have planned it better than this.”
“You killed her,” I hiss, unable to keep the accusation inside.
“Ah, no. I wish, but no, I didn’t. But can you guess who did?”
He looks almost amused by this, but of course he does.
“Guess, Ara. Guess.”
My mind swirls, attempting to come up with something, someone, but it’s blank.
“You’re thinking Anthony, aren’t you? No, it’s even better.”
When I sit silent for too long, Henry mumbles something under his breath and then blurts, “Georgiy. Your fucking dog killed her.”
My mind goes blank, and I hear a whooshing in my ears.
“What?” I breathe.
My father is staring at me intently.
“I’d rather have delivered that, Samvel. Restrain yourself.”
I see Henry flush and step back into the shadows, knowing wrath is headed his way.
“How?” I ask, and Death grins.
“It’s complicated. A very long story.”
“I have time,” I bite out, and Emin grins.
“You do. But not that much. I will tell you this: she had a damaged heart, and as much as I didn’t want her to die, Georgiy fucked up and she didn’t make it out of surgery. Unacceptable is what it was. I made sure to remind him of his failure.”
“No. No,” I whisper, my words catching in my throat. “He said he killed them all. He said he got them…”
“Ah, but not me.” He grins and then rubs his hands together as the door opens behind him. Emma makes an appearance, looking the same as when I had her tied to a chair. Same hair, same nose ring. A little more tired, but that’s to be expected.
Maybe she’ll faint and I can gloat that one of Emin’s prized children can’t handle the stress of the job.
“Look who it is,” she says with a grin, almost friendly. “So glad we could meet again.”
I fight to find my breath, to come to terms with what he told me. Is he lying? I doubt it. I think all of this is true.
Georgiy killed my mom—not on purpose, but still—he was the reason she’s not here.
And they hurt him because of it.
I’m the reason he’s so damaged, why his back is stripped, and why he hates being touched.
The reason he lost the job he loved.
I do ruin the lives of those I love.
I ruin it all.
It would be better if I were dead.
Emma hands Henry the bag in her hand, and without asking, I know what’s inside.
Knives. The things they’re going to use to torture me.
I deserve it. After what my father just said, I know I do.
I’m not afraid of pain. My father made sure of that, but I really don’t want to die without seeing my true family again. The ones I chose. The ones who took me in. I want to give them hugs and say goodbye. To say I’m sorry.
I don’t think I’ll have that chance.
There’s no way they’ll find me in time. The tracker is gone, and it seems Emin has made himself completely untraceable. Not even Lex or Diablo can find them.
Even Henry was a ghost.
“Anything else you’d like to ask before we get to work?” Emin asks, meeting my gaze.
I wet my dry lips. “What do you want from Anthony? Why did you go after Tatum, Viktor, and Luca?”
“Oh, that’s easy. Tatum is a nuisance. He got in the way. And Viktor and Luca were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps if Anthony would stop interfering with my plans, I wouldn’t have to put so much effort into ruining them.”
“And what are your plans?”
Emin grins. “Well, I have the casino and the club, but I want to expand. Why have a little when you could have it all?”
When I say nothing, he sighs. “You never were smart. Fine. I’ll spell it out for you. I want the drug trade. I want to push Anthony out. I want Pink to dominate the market.”
“But it keeps killing people.”
“Yes, the early stuff did, but Henry has been tweaking the formula and managed to perfect it. This is going to make us so much money. But I can’t do that when Anthony is in control of the ports and is still the main supplier of cocaine.
Do you see it now? Are the pieces starting to fall into place now? ”
“Why can’t you just share? There’s more than enough room at the table for both of you.”
That makes Emin’s eye twitch. “That’s not how it works, Ara. That’s not how this business works!”
His frustration bleeds into his voice, and I’m taken back to those days he’d visit me in the basement—how he’d try to make me conform, try to get me to answer his questions just like he wanted.
You belong here. You asked for it when you cried, begged.
But I could never fake it. I could never be what he wanted.
I never wanted to, either.
I just knew I deserved more. I deserved to be loved. Emotions aren’t wrong. They don’t make you weak.
No, feeling things makes you strong.
Emin schools his features once more and then stands up.
“Enough talking. I answered your questions, and now I have some of my own. You will answer them as I take you apart.”
Henry hands him the bag, and he opens it up, a knife flashing as it appears in his hand.
“I think what would be poetic is to start with your back. Just like your lover. He screamed when we took his skin. Did you know that? Cried. I wonder if you’ll make the same sound.” That makes my entire body strain, trying to escape, to punish them. But I go nowhere.
“Turn him around, Samvel. We need to get started. And don’t worry, my children, you’ll both get to keep a piece of him.”