Chapter 12
Indigo
Bob, I felt like my stomach was filled with TV static and razor blades.
My mouth tasted like pennies, all traces of the delicate sweetness from our dessert washed away by my ghosts.
I needed to get myself together before my new relatives figured out how fucked up I was and decided they didn’t want to invite me over for the next family potluck.
I’d been researching toilet wine fermentation ever since my time in lockup and was desperate for a gathering so I could taste test it.
“She said she recognized Gregor’s voice.
From The Consortium,” my mother answered.
“What is that?” Cara’s eyes darted from her husband to her son, a scowl darkening her face at being kept in the dark.
Lennon looked equally confused, but Bear and Cricket wore the same grumpy expression as Riordan.
Mikhail must have had a big ole set of brassy balls, though, because he held his finger up at his wife and pulled a phone from his pocket.
Cara’s eyes narrowed into slits, frustration simmering in their hazel depths.
My uncle scanned the room, taking in everyone’s expressions, and weighing his options now that our casual “get to know you” dinner had taken a dramatic turn.
Less than three seconds later, a man answered the call, and Mikhail had devised a game plan.
“Andrey, I need you to discreetly detain Gregor. Yes. Yes. Good.” Mikhail ended the call, holding up his entire hand at Cara, which resulted in a snarl from his wife. Brassy. Balls.
“Moya lyubov, I will explain.” Mikhail took his seat, which was much closer to his wife than I’d want to be right now if I were him.
But maybe Mikhail liked to live on the edge?
He looked me over and nudged his untouched dessert my way.
Usually, I’d have loved a second cup of yummy custard, but I shook my head and tried not to wish that it was a schnappy mug of hot chocolate instead.
I felt like I could use a cup of Priest’s nightmare hangover cure right about now.
“I want to leave,” I said quietly, though my words carried across the table loud enough for the pakhan to hear them.
“Riordan still hasn’t explained how he knew the LC compound was under attack that night.
Now that I know what kind of men you allow into your bratva, I’m not so sure we should be friends.
” My eyes cut over to Riordan. “You keep saying ‘we’re family’ like it explains things and justifies stuff.
I hate to break it to you, but it really doesn’t.
I don’t understand what it means to you.
I don’t know what it’s like to have a family. ”
“Ahem.” My bestie coughed from her end of the table. I winced.
“Except for the Crows, they’re showing me what it means to be part of their family.” I blew Lennon a kiss in apology, and she caught it with a wink, letting me know we were cool. Looking back at Riordan and his parents, I shrugged. “I don’t know what it means to be part of yours.”
“Indi—” Riordan began, but he was cut off by his mother.
“I was a lot like you, you know, when I was torn from my life back in Boston and thrust into this family.” I quirked my head at her, and she elaborated.
“Not exactly like you. I wasn’t literally imprisoned…
but I was a captive. My elder brother, Seamus, controlled me physically and financially, and my younger brother, Roark, did his best to terrorize me when my father wasn’t looking.
Once Da died, he had free rein from Seamus to keep me in line however he liked as long as he didn’t do any permanent damage and made sure not to mark me where it would show. ”
Cara chuckled bitterly. “When I was sold like a sow at market and became Mikhail’s less-than-willing bride”—she sent a sly smile to Mikhail, who smirked right back at her— “well, let’s just say I learned what it meant to join a real family.
To be valued, loved, respected, protected…
powerful. That’s what it means to be a Petrov.
My brothers know how to work together to run their ‘family,’ but it’s a hollow shell.
At the heart of them, they don’t understand the power of love and the fierce protectiveness it engenders. ”
“How did you know?” I asked in a tight voice. “That you loved. Were loved. The moment you became part of a real family?”
“It crept up on me,” Cara murmured. “Mikhail showed me every time he listened to my advice, every time he demanded that I be treated with respect, every time he supported me and didn’t belittle my feelings.
He told me he loved me the first time he laid eyes on me, but for me…
I needed him to show me he loved me, not just say the words.
And he did. That’s how I knew. When his words and his actions made it impossible not to feel like I was exactly where I always should have been. ”
Cara and Mikhail shared a look, and it burned.
Riordan averted his eyes, like he felt awkward witnessing such a deep devotion, and maybe he did.
Maybe witnessing how much your parents loved each other felt squicky when you were their loin fruit.
I, however, thought it was absolute couples goals.
I could only pray to Bob that one day someone would look at me the way Mikhail looked at Cara, like she was the star around which his solar system orbited. Even Pluto, that straggler.
Mikhail dragged his eyes away from his wife and dipped his head in my direction.
“I knew the moment I saw you that you were truly my sister’s daughter.
The fact that we share blood can mean as much or as little to you as you’d like.
I won’t try to force anything on you, but if you wish to pursue a relationship with any or all of us, we’ll be here. We’ll always be here.”
He sat back in his chair. “The instant I saw my wife, I knew she was meant to be mine. She made me work hard to prove it to her, but in the end, she came to understand what I always knew. I’ll do the same for you, prove to you that you’re home now.
” Now it was my turn to avert my gaze, overwhelmed by the earnestness on my uncle’s face.
“As for my bratva, well… while you are under no obligation to join the family business, you will have its support and protection for as long as you live. As Tatiana’s only child, you are entitled to substantial financial holdings in your own right, as well. ”
My eyes widened as they shot back to Mikhail’s. “I have holdings?”
Riordan chuckled. “I’ll have Astrid draw up the paperwork, and I can explain everything.”
I narrowed my eyes at my cousin. “Speaking of ’splaining.
You got some to do. How did you know Bones and I had been taken?
Were you spying on me because that’s not cool.
” I crossed my arms and sat back in my chair, pinning my cousin with a disapproving glare.
I didn’t leave Creepy Steve behind back in my first favorite alleyway in Reno just to be spied on by a Creepy Cousin. Boundaries, man, we all gotta have ’em.
“I wasn’t spying, Indi,” Riordan said placatingly.
“I received a tip from a reputable source that someone had claimed the bounty on your head. We rushed over to the Crow’s compound as soon as we found out, hoping we’d get to you before Roark’s men.
I didn’t realize that you’d been betrayed from within the club and arrived shortly after you were taken.
We stayed until Duke got word from Bones that he’d been arrested, helping to protect the clubhouse. ”
“Why would you do that?” I asked, genuinely curious. Bones and Priest didn’t seem to like the bratva much, and I got the impression that Riordan barely tolerated them in return.
Riordan shrugged. “Because I knew you’d want me to. The Crows are important to you, so I’ll do what I can to help them. For your sake.”
“Awwww,” Lennon cooed under her breath. “That’s so sweet.
” Cricket rolled his eyes and kicked her foot under the table.
“What?” she said with an arm thrown in Riordan’s direction.
“It is! Look at him: big, bad tatted gangster on the outside, sweet protective cinnamon roll on the inside. It’s fuckin’ cute! ”
“Don’t say that where Ivan could hear you,” Riordan muttered. “He’d never let me hear the end of it.”
“What source sent you a tip like that, though? I doubt Crime Stoppers Anonymous makes calls to bratva bros.” I quirked an eyebrow at Riordan, unwilling to get anywhere but the bottom of this issue.
If I was going to help Los Cuervos and the Petrov bratva to be underworld besties for the resties, we needed to establish some trust.
“About a year ago, we received an invitation to join an exclusive chat room, one used to vet members for the Astraea platform. Have you heard of it?” Riordan asked.
“No,” I replied, while at the same time Cricket and Bear said, “Yes.” My eyes shot over to my conscience, who shared a solemn look with Bear. Lennon shrugged and huffed, annoyed at being kept in the dark.
“Astraea is run by an anonymous entity who goes by the screen name of Nicodemus. He works with a network of individuals who are interested in taking down the shadow organizations that traffic people.”
“And are you?” I interrupted. “Interested in combating the skin trade, that is?” Maybe Priest and Riordan could be best friends after all. It seemed like they had more in common than they realized.
“Not exactly,” Riordan replied, dashing my hopes of matching BFF bracelets for my cousin and my… Priest.
“Then why would this Nicodemus have invited you to join his super-secret dark web chatroom?”
“Nicodemus was testing the waters, feeling us out.” Riordan shared a look with his father, who nodded slightly before he continued.
“A few years ago, we ended all affiliation with The Consortium, the final act in a long line of actions taken to end all of our bratva’s connections to human trafficking.
As far as we’re aware, we’re the only bratva within the syndicate to sever all involvement in the skin trade. ”
“So this Nicodemus is like some kind of white hat hacker, and they tipped you off the night Pyro betrayed us?” Lennon asked.
“Whoever Pyro is working with must have used one of the dark net marketplaces to accept the hit on Indigo. Nicodemus monitored several popular chat rooms, markets, and listing sites, and saw that we’d been trying to discover who put the bounty on her head after we confirmed Indigo was Tatiana’s daughter.
Once we discovered our connection, we increased our efforts, and our curiosity must have been enough to pique Nicodemus's interest. He warned us that someone had accepted the job and sent confirmation of her location to Roark.”
While I digested this, my aunt decided she’d had enough of being kept in the dark.
“Mikhail, explain. What is this Consortium, and why does our son know of it before I do?” Geesh.
I didn’t envy my uncle on this one. Cara didn’t seem to appreciate being in the dark, and I could totally get why.
However, on this subject in particular, I could say with absolute certainty that ignorance was bliss.
I could have gone my entire life happily without the knowledge of the depths to which man is susceptible to evil.
I decided to do my uncle a solid and take this bullet for him.
“Have you ever heard of dog fighting?” I asked my aunt.
“Yes,” she replied, hesitantly.
“Ever watched Gladiator?” Cricket asked, supporting me without needing to be asked like a good conscience does.
“Yes,” Cara said, the change in her tone implying that the dots were being connected as we spoke.
“Well,” I explained, “The Consortium organizes secret extra-curricular bad guy activities, and one of them is something like…people dog fights.” Man, this was such an awkward dinner party, I thought with a huff.
“It’s made up of members from different organizations, not just the underworld.
Some of the members looked like they were rich, really important people…
or at least they thought so. Probably politicians and leaders and stuff like that.
” A sigh huffed out of me as I sat back in my chair.
“So these fights. Any member can sponsor a fighter, and any fighter can win. The only rule was that each event was to the death unless otherwise stated. Fighters were usually taken against their will and forced to compete, though sometimes members would recruit people to be their gladiator if they had a grudge against another member. Members also had the opportunity to act as architects or game makers, designing the death matches to fulfill their sick desires and fantasies.”
“Wait—” Lennon interrupted, but I powered on.
“The location of each game varied… they had to keep moving the location to maintain secrecy.” Lennon and Cara each gaped at me, but Riordan, Mikhail, Cricket, and Bear listened to my explanation with grim expressions drawn taut upon their faces.
“Sometimes the matches were one-on-one. Sometimes, there were a handful of us, each striving for a single prize: life. Unc—Roark is a member, and sometimes he was chosen to design the arena. When he did…those times were his favorite. He always made sure I would have to compete when he was an architect.” I paused for a moment, unsure if I was sharing too much, but then I figured…
screw it. “Members of The Consortium would bet on the outcome of the matches, and they could also bid on the winner. Sometimes I wasn’t sure which was worse, dying in the arena or surviving and having to go on living afterward. ”
“And you…” Lennon asked, but she stopped when she saw the look on my face.
A tight, grim expression tugged at the corner of my mouth, floundering somewhere between a snarl and a haunted smile. “Did whatever I had to do in order to survive? Yes.” Yes, I fucking did. And it would never stop haunting me.