Chapter 17 - Bardil
Leaving her feels wrong when she's still recovering from whatever illness had her so weak last night.
I don't want to go, but I have a few errands to run that I can't ignore.
Meeting with one of my informants is top of my list. The guy works closely with the Abashin family, and I want to check in with him.
I like to see people face-to-face these days. My trust is thin, and I like to look them in the eyes when they reassure me that they're still on my side.
The meeting goes smoothly, but the guy has no news for me, and I leave without knowing anything more than when I arrived. It was a waste of time, and I should have stayed home with Nikita.
But while I'm out, I'm going to stop at my office and grab some files. I've been away for too long, and I need to start catching up on what's been going on in this city.
I can work from home and still be near her.
My office is near the docks. Gusts of wind whip the smell of fish from the mongers into the dusty space, through the open window.
"Ugh," I complain. "I remember why I hated coming here."
I opened the window to air the place out, but the fish smells worse than the stale air.
My desk has a coating of dust over it, and I have to brush it away with my hand before I sit down to find the correct file.
At least it's easy to see no one has been here.
I needed to be close to the docks to handle incoming and outgoing shipments for my brothers. I was doing my own thing, but I was still involved in the family stuff too. But since I walked away, I imagine my brothers have been handling it from their own offices.
I plan to grab the contact list of our clients and start touching base with all of them again.
I just want people to know I'm still around so that they don't forget about me.
I'm only there for about twenty minutes before I have everything I need.
Locking up, I head down to my car.
But as I step off the last stair, two men grab me and shove me to the ground.
"I told you not to hurt him," Marlen snaps angrily.
I growl, standing up and dusting myself off. "Hello, brother," I sneer.
"Bardil," he huffs. "Where is she?"
"Not here," I snap.
"I can fucking see that. Listen… just give her to me. I can take her back to her family and negotiate from there.
"Negotiate for what?" I snarl, shaking my head. "There is no negotiating with those assholes."
"Negotiate for them to forgive you. To not seek revenge against you for kidnapping their sister." Marlen's frustration is clear. He pulls his mouth tight and clenches his fists.
"How did you even know I was here?"
"Sensors on the door. I set them up when you disappeared."
"Are you fucking kidding me? You were stalking me?"
"I was trying to keep an eye on you so that I could help you, Bardil. You weren't even talking to us. I was worried."
"Yeah, well, you can stop worrying about me. I'm perfectly fine," I snap.
"I'm worried about her now, Bardil. Just give her to me," he tries again.
"I'm not done with her, Marlen. I need her."
"For what?" he scoffs.
"For my plan. I want revenge. Don't you get it? That's what this is all about. Nothing else," I blurt out, heated and full of rage.
But the truth is that even as I say the words, I know that's not what has me so angry at him. I'm angry at him because he wants to take her away from me.
Revenge isn't on my mind anymore. Not for a while now.
I can't let him take her.
I'm not ready to let her go. I want more time.
Marlen steps closer. "Bardil, you're being unreasonable," he growls.
I pull the gun from my belt and hold it at my side. "Don't come any closer, brother," I warn him.
He hesitates. I can see he doesn't want to believe I'd use the weapon, but he's unsure. I'm not unsure. I know I'd never shoot my brother, but I do need him to have that doubt because right now I need to get back to Nikita.
He gestures to his men, and they lift their weapons toward me.
I laugh.
"Shoot me. Go ahead. You'll never find her," I scoff.
Marlen stands his ground for a moment and then huffs in frustration.
"Let him go," he snaps miserably, defeated.
It would be stupid for him to risk taking me down and losing the chance to get her back.
For all he knows, she's locked up in a basement somewhere in a random warehouse where no one can hear her.
As soon as he admits defeat, I push past his men and run toward my car.
They're still standing there when I drive away at full speed.
I don't dare go home in this vehicle, thinking he might have put a tracker on it.
I make a quick stop at my warehouse, where I quickly switch cars, then I head back to the mansion.
My stomach is churning with anxiety. All I need is to see her.
To make sure that she's still there. For some reason, my mind is teasing me with the idea that her brothers have taken her back.
That they found my place and got in while I was away.
The idea of her family or my family taking her away has me worried for the day when she inevitably leaves. What am I going to do?
Parking outside my front door, I hurry out of the car and up the stairs, bursting into the foyer. Immediately, I call her name, and my voice echoes through the house.
One of the security guards walks past the front door, doing his walk around the perimeter of the house. He pauses, observing me for a moment. "Sir, is everything alright?" he asks, noticing my stressed state.
"Where is she?" I blurt out.
"She's inside somewhere, sir. She only left for an hour or two," he explains.
"She left?" I snap, already fearing the worst. "Where? Why?"
"Sir, you told us she could go out if she needed to… for medicine?"
"That doesn't take an hour or two. That takes fifteen minutes," I growl in a rage, convinced that Nikita was using the opportunity to try and find a way to escape again.
What else would she be doing but scouting for a chance?
Waiting for the guard to take his eyes off her for a minute so she could duck away.
"I'm sorry, sir. We were under the impression that you were fine with it as long as there was a guard with her. You said… "
"I know what I said!" I snarl, slamming the door in his face and jogging further into the house to look for her.
I'll find out exactly why the hell she was going out for so long.
If she was trying to escape, I'll know. I'll look into her eyes and read her.
I know what betrayal looks like, having seen it far too many times.
"Nikita!" I bellow through the mansion.
"Bardil?" Her voice carries back to me, and my heart stops. Relief to hear her. To have confirmation that she's still here. But the anger doesn't go away.
Storming toward her voice, I burst into the kitchen and she jumps and squeals in fright.
"Oh my goodness!" she exclaims with her hand over her heart. "You sounded so far away. How did you get here so fast?" she giggles.
"Where the hell did you go today? What games are you playing, girl?" I snarl.
She looks at me with her nose scrunched and confusion traced in her eyes.
"I… "
"You what? Huh? You went to get medicine? Or what? How long should that take? Five, ten minutes?"
"Bardil, stop… " she huffs. "I also went to get some clothing, because I can't live in the same jeans and the same t-shirt every day, and I've been with you for ages now, and I never really had a chance to get some new clothes.
And then after that, I went to the grocery store because…
" She sighs and tilts her head to the side.
"It was meant to be a surprise," she shrugs.
I glance around the kitchen and take in the chaos spread over the countertops.
My heart sinks, and I take a deep breath. "What is this?" I ask.
"The lasagna is already in the oven. And then… " She walks over to an open cookbook. "This is supposed to be peppermint tart, but so far I'm not sure I'm getting it right." She bites her lip, peering at the recipe with her brows knitted.
A chuckle of relief rustles from me, and I shake my head. My panic got the best of me. I feared the worst, and I took it out on her.
Stepping behind her, I slip my arms around her waist and look over her shoulder at the recipe. "You're making me peppermint tarts?" I muse.
"Trying to," she grins, leaning into me.
"Let me help. I reckon between the two of us, we can work it out?"
"Really?" Her grin grows wider. "That sounds like fun."
She steps away from the recipe book and tells me to read the instructions and explain the first part about the water and the pot with the pan inside it.
While I'm reading, I hear pots and pans clanging behind me.
"Ok, I've got it," I exclaim.
I turn to see her standing there holding three different pans with a pot under her arm. It makes me smile. "That one, and that one," I point.
She puts the rest back in the cabinet.
Baking with her is way more fun than I could have imagined.
"I'm really good at cooking, but I haven't done a lot of sweet stuff. Only muffins, really," she explains as she checks on the lasagna. It smells incredible. Creamy and rich. My stomach growls with anticipation.
"I can't wait to try it. You've cooked for me before, at the cabin. I enjoyed it then," I say.
"Yes, but that was limited ingredients from the pantry. And the cooking wasn't the surprise, the peppermint tart was," she smiles.
"Because I told you about how much I like peppermint?"
"Exactly. And because I wanted to say thank you for the way you took care of me while I was sick,"
Her smile is magnificent. The most beautiful thing to observe.
"You don't have to thank me for that, little rabbit," I tell her, reaching out to touch her cheek.
"But I want to. It meant a lot to me," her eyes glimmer with a delicate softness as she stares into mine. My heart skips a beat, and I quickly pull my hand away and clear my throat.
"What's next?" I ask, turning away from that exquisite face.
Once the peppermint tart is in the fridge, waiting to set, Nikita and I lay the table for dinner.
While she's in the kitchen fetching the lasagna, I add candles to the table and turn the main light low. She put in so much effort to make the dinner; we might as well make the whole experience special.
She walks in carrying the dish, steaming hot and smelling even better than before. Nikita sets it down on a wooden board next to a fresh garden salad.
"Born up a tree?" she grins.
"Bon Appétit?" I laugh, pulling her chair out for her.
"Mine's better," she giggles.
"I agree," I nod, taking a seat as well.
Dinner is a slow, relaxed experience. Being around her, talking to her about life and dreams and bucket list wishes… it removes me from the stress and drama that the world holds over me. Nothing else seems to matter when I'm laughing with her.
Nikita tells me about how she wants to go to Siberia and feel what it's like to stand in real snow.
Bone-chilling, body-freezing snow. She talks about going to Mexico for Día De Los Muertos and then visiting Peru to climb Machu Picchu.
While she speaks of these things, her eyes light up and her voice becomes bubbly with excitement.
I can't help but want to go there too. With her.
I want to do everything with her. Somehow, I know that she would make it a hundred times more exciting. More fun.
Our plates are empty, and sitting in front of us for a full hour while we're lost in conversation with each other. She's captivating me—more and more each day.
"Oh, I think the tart will be ready!" She stands up, excited to try it.
"I'll clear the table," I say, standing up too.
"Let's put something warm on and eat dessert outside under the stars," she calls out over her shoulder on the way to the kitchen.
That's something I really adore about her.
She likes to do things differently. She likes to make things more fun and to enjoy the little things whenever she can.
That's how I want to live my life, too. I want to forget about everything else and let go.
I want to take advantage of every moment.
And I want to do it with her.