18. Elijah
Elijah
I n general, the Zimin boys are morning people. I blame it on Max for always getting up at the ass crack of dawn. Since someone needed to make sure he’d get breakfast and stay out of Yelena’s hair, that meant I got up too.
The habit stuck around, the early dawn a better alarm than the one on my phone.
But today’s internal timer is broken. My eyes crack open. I roll my jaw around, testing the muscles.
Leopold Stuart’s head will end up on a stake before all of this is over.
The motherfucker deserves to die and I’ll see to it.
Sleep might help my injuries, but it’s done nothing to soothe the anger brimming along my bones.
I had plans last night.
Nasty, devious plans involving my Leonora.
She asked for my cock and I’m nothing if not generous. Yes, I’d go slow, but I’d work her up until she understood that her pain was my pleasure.
The amount of things I want to do to her is too much for one night. But I’ll happily begin somewhere and last night should’ve acted as a start date.
Instead, I came home to a pissed-off Leonora who’s already vacated the bed.
Albert stirs, sticking his head up. The bastard chose to sleep by her side of the mattress, the ungrateful furball.
The sheets are cold, the place still. There’s not a sign of her.
Rubbing my eyes, I grab my phone. The screen’s cracked and I fumble for a charger since it won’t light up. When I plug it in, I see that it’s not completely dead, but it’ll need replacing soon.
My bones and muscles groan when I stand. Clothes are thrown haphazardly around the room and there’s nobody to blame but myself.
And that blame isn’t only in regards to the messy clothes.
I don’t like when people scare Leonora and Leopold continues to do so.
Therefore I had to make a visit to the bastard.
Uncle Dima called an impromptu meeting which put me behind schedule. I wasn’t expecting Leonora to skip her regular dinner at Fujimori’s, though, I should’ve known.
Normally, it pleases me, her eagerness. She’s finally understanding it’s me she should always come to.
But I make a point of keeping eyes on Leopold at all times and the bastard slips away easily. It’s like he doesn’t realize I’m the only one who’s allowed to be an elusive shadow.
There’s a gentlemen’s club where pretentious pricks like Leopold play cards. I planned for another run in with him. Roma tagged along with me, though, I tried to get away from him. He said throughout all of Dima’s meeting, he could tell I was in the midst of plotting murder.
We sat down for a game, gambling away.
I have a natural talent for gambling, but Leopold’s a nasty fuck and men with net worths like ours don’t play for cash.
“One punch to the face,” he declared after several rounds.
Roma didn’t hide his surprise. He’d stopped playing hours earlier. The old, pieces of shit cars he likes to fix up, are the only thing to ever keep his attention.
Relishing the chance to beat Leopold’s face in, I accepted his terms.
And won.
But the thing about Leopold Stuart is he doesn’t believe in playing fair.
I rolled up my sleeves, took a swing, and then he promptly swung back.
“Was that some sort of weird foreplay?” Roma asked when he hauled me out. The card table was on its side, a glass of whiskey destroyed and Leopold’s eyes venomous. It must suck, starting a game you know you’ll lose. Because. . .
“It’s only a matter of time,” I muttered darkly.
“Until what?” Roma innocently asked.
“Until I kill the bastard.”
Roma sighed, unamused and unimpressed. He’s heard this statement from me several times.
I told him I didn’t need an escort, but he wouldn’t listen. He bundled me into a car and then proceeded to walk me through the warehouse until we got to my apartment.
We were still bickering when he found Leonora in nothing but a giant shirt. My giant shirt, might I add.
I’m changing Roma’s access the first chance I get. No one will stare at her bare legs again.
Albert scratches at the door and I let him out, after shrugging into a pair of sweats. I keep a few in a bottom drawer. I’m surprised Leonora hasn’t found them yet.
It’s not late by any means, but since I’m normally up before the sun, I shuffle around not understanding anything.
My brother left a scrap of paper behind and I ball it up and trash it. Roman’s too damn nosy for his own good.
“Morning, son.”
I sigh, leaning heavily onto the countertop.
Lev tucked himself into a chair in the living room. He holds a cup of coffee up in greeting. Sure enough, when I glance back, the coffee pot is on.
My father takes a sip. “Rough night.”
He’s wearing his favorite Italian suit and his cologne invades my apartment. Albert wags his tail, walking up. He spares a smile for the dog, but it’s noticeably absent when he meets my eye.
“Common courtesy dictates you wipe the blood off your face before your father visits.”
“Common courtesy dictates you don’t show up unannounced.”
“Check your phone, asshole.”
I decide I’m changing everyone’s access as I pour myself a cup of coffee.
Dad likes the chair in my living room. It’s where he normally sits when he comes over to rile me up. Today, he stands and crosses toward the kitchen, holding his cup out for a refill. I oblige, because he’s my dad, and also quite frankly Lev Zimin is a fright without his caffeine.
“Does Lennie normally head out to work so early?”
I press a thumb against my eyebrow, warding off a headache as my jaw clenches. “How long have you been here?”
“An hour.” He gulps the scalding hot coffee. “You have a good night’s sleep? I didn’t want to wake you.”
I chug my coffee.
“What are you doing, son?”
I pride myself on understanding the people around me. Not because I’m empathetic but because being observant gets you far. I’m loath to admit, though, that I struggle to understand my father’s voice.
What’s it like being raised by a man who puts bullets into his enemies without a second thought?
Strangely, normal.
Our dad grounded us if we were rude to the staff and threatened to take our toys away if we left a mess. He tried to make one-on-one time for each of his sons. Took Max to bookstores and bought Roma a subscription to a car magazine.
But my brothers hobbies were run-of-the-mill.
Perhaps Dad expected a son who liked the English Premier League as much as my mom, Emma, did.
Instead, my chosen form of amusement consisted of seeing what made others tick. Listening to their secrets and stealing their desires before they got a chance to.
If kids made my baby brothers cry on the playground, I wouldn’t wallop them like other bullies.
I’d tell them their fathers were fucking their nannies. It always got interesting, seeing the fallout when they brought the news to their mothers.
Lev tried to reign me in every so often. But at some point, he stepped back and simply told me not to do anything stupid. I took that to mean he hoped I wouldn’t bring the family down with me if I ever fell over the edge.
And I’ve tried my best in that regard because we agree on one thing above all others. We must protect Max and Roma. I’d never purposely do something to hurt my brothers.
Dad turns a shrewd eye over me. “You’re seeing Lennie now?”
“Sorry if that disappoints you.” I lean over the counter, wishing for more sleep.
He sets his coffee on the counter with a thud. “Are you kidding me? Three sons and three daughters. You think Boris and I didn’t want this?”
I lift my head up to discover he’s serious. “I’m guessing Nat being a lesbian ended that idea.”
He reaches for his coffee. “I don’t know, we might’ve been wrong in that regard. But I’m wondering if you’ve thought this all through?”
I’ve thought about everything.
Dad implores, though. “Gia will have your balls.”
“Is that why you’ve always tried to keep me away from her?”
“Yes,” he admits like it’s obvious. “You’re an annoying little shit, but I wasn’t going to let Gia castrate you.”
“I hope you remember that loyalty when we all gather for Christmas.”
Dad ignores my mocking tone. “Lennie doesn’t deserve to be played with, Elijah. She’s a nice girl, who works hard.”
“Why is it always assumed I’m playing around.”
“Because you always play around,” he remarks sternly. “But for the love of God, Elijah, do not harm that girl.”
“You never believed it was an accident.” I inhale the caramelized scent of my coffee before gulping some down.
Dad watches me carefully. “Considering you always went around saying you did it on purpose, can you blame me?”
“Nobody was going to believe me either way.” I used the story of the butcher knife and Lennie’s scar to my advantage. If I see an opportunity I make use of it. I don’t think I ever counted on my father believing it, though.
“You’re no longer a child, Elijah.” He’s two inches taller than me and straightens his spine to prove it. “I’m not here to dictate your love life.”
Only because he can’t. I never allowed him to toy with that part of my life like Max and Roma did. In fact, he’s paying the consequences for those actions now.
“Gia will find out,” he warns. “And when she does, whatever relationship you’ve got, it better be worth it, because it’s not just your life she’ll turn upside down.”
It’ll be Lennie’s. Her mother’s past is a ghost, driving all her actions. It’s noble, wanting to protect one’s family, but Lennie is an adult.
“Noted, Father.” I refill my coffee.
The stern demeanor doesn’t leave him. “What happened to your face?”
“I got in a fight.” He can spare the concern.
“I hate to break it to you but I think you’ve found yourself in another one. With Lennie.”
He has the audacity to smirk as he says it. I let him have the one joke, but my teeth grind.
I didn’t want to wake up to an empty bed this morning.
With one hand wrapped around his mug, he places the other on his hip, ready to discuss business. “Why’d you ask your uncle to look into the Stuarts?”
There’s got to be several things on his mind if he hasn’t connected the dots yet.
“I heard they’re making a move.”