Chapter 19
Grim Reaper
Jade
We crossed the line.
Alex and I crossed all the lines. But the thing was…we did it together. More than that—he offered his hand, waiting for me. Assuring me. Giving me the chance, the choice, the space, the whole damn fucking world.
He didn’t push. He didn’t coerce. He didn’t control. He didn’t manipulate.
He was just there for me. With me.
There wasn't any trickery, there weren't any games, no hidden stones either.
Our make-out session on the beach was the most passionate and needy thing that had ever happened to me. He pulled me into his world, and I followed eagerly, still oblivious, still carefree.
But then the puzzle took shape in my mind and, of course! Of course it was them. I should have figured it out earlier.
We have this expression in Russian, Alex said, but I bypassed that little detail, too immersed in everything that was happening between us.
I sat across the dinner table from Alex and Andrei and admired their dedication. Throughout our entire investigation, we had no idea who was in charge. We’d learned so much, we had informants, we were close to catching them, but the them was still the missing puzzle piece.
We just knew it was a few Russian men—we suspected it was two, but we didn’t know for sure.
Their crew, everyone who we’d arrested, all our informants—no one was giving up their names. The answers were always vague and convoluted.
No comment.
I don’t know who’s at the top.
I’ve never seen them.
It’s two men, I think, but they’re not here.
It’s deeper than them; no one knows who they are.
Were the repeat answers we kept hearing.
The detectives couldn’t catch the—potentially—two men in the act, couldn’t find their real names or their real addresses, but they did give them a nickname—The Nightcrawlers. And it stuck.
But one of the informants let a name slip one time—Dre. He was questioned incessantly about it, but denied ever saying a name, insisting the investigators misheard him.
Our office was focused on bringing down this car theft syndicate, but we were all working in a loop. We knew a lot, but not enough to arrest them. We had informants, but they were useless. We’d been working on it for years but had no idea who the Russian men were.
But now we were close. My father was close.
"Have you been working on…us?" Alex posed a question after I turned the dinner party into a nightmare.
“Yes,” I answered quickly, my mind on fire. “I'm deeply involved. And I don't think you two realize...the number of problems you have.”
My chest shook as I tried to gather my thoughts.
Alex was one of The Nightcrawlers. Holy fuck!
There was no doubt in my mind about what I wanted to do—everything I knew, all the information that had been shared with me, I’d put it all toward helping them.
Together, we could turn it all around and give my dad the finger.
God, I had fucking psychological problems. He was my father. Did I hate him? The prospect of hurting him made me shake with anticipation and excitement.
“This—you…it’s like a personal vendetta for him.” I tried to explain. “He feels very strongly about this. As if your case would forever solidify his contribution to America’s justice system.”
I’d thought about all the early mornings and late nights my dad had been putting in during his career, always working overtime, holding his team to the highest standards.
His work was monumental to him, and he viewed this case as some kind of pinnacle of the law.
He wanted to conquer this. Conquer them.
“Fuck,” Andrei breathed out, his evening going off the rails at full speed. First, he caught Alex and I kissing, and now he was listening to me explain how many problems he had in his business.
"When are you due?" Alex's deep voice addressed Olga, who looked on the verge of tears.
"I-In a month.”
Wow. I was like the Grim Reaper, coming into their house and altering all their lives.
Dead silence settled between the four of us.
Steam rose up from the cups of hot coffee, and the dessert looked delicious, but it was a nauseating still life.
Everything was perfect in their home. The gorgeous mansion, two lovely children peacefully sleeping upstairs and one on the way, a beautiful wife entertaining in her marble-clad kitchen.
The facade was bright and cheery, but the reality was dark and hollow.
I didn't know whose turn it was to speak next. Mine? And tell them more things that would destroy them all? At the same time, there was no way I could hold anything back now.
"I’ll help you," I assured them of the obvious. “But I also need you to help me.”
Images of my potential future burst into my mind. Maybe I’d never have to see my father again. If they managed to kidnap me and keep me invisible for so long…maybe they could help me disappear forever.
Alex opened his mouth to say something, but Andrei cut in with a loud scoff. "Why on earth would you want to help us? You've been diligently working away to fuck us over. What's different now?"
“Everything,” I responded without missing a beat. “Everything’s different now."
I was astounded—flabbergasted that he didn’t understand that!
He laughed bitterly, but this time Alex turned to him, absolute murder in his eyes. "Can you just give her a second to at least express what she wants to say, what the fuck?!"
At that, something inside Andrei seemed to detonate.
He shot out of his chair and began pacing the dining room, loudly addressing Alex in Russian.
Alex didn't back down and matched Andrei’s angry energy, getting to his feet too.
Olga and I watched the two men try—badly—to keep their voices down so as not to wake the kids upstairs.
Confused, I looked between them until Olga scooted closer, translating in a whisper, "I told you to keep the hell away from her!" Olga pointed at Andrei. Then, as if switching roles, she changed the sound of her whisper and pointed at Alex.
"What the fuck has that got to do with what she just told us?! She's giving you precious information that can help us, how can you reject it?!"
"She's tricking you!” Olga continued, trying to imitate Andrei’s furious voice. “She’ll fuck us over! She’ll tell us the opposite of what’s true, and then we’ll get arrested next week instead of in two months and she’ll run along home!"
"Gosh, Andrei seems confused,” Olga added her own little commentary.
"Maybe you should just listen to her then. Listen to what she has to say," Olga whispered as she pointed at Alex again, but then they both whipped their heads toward us, cluing into the live translation.
The atmosphere in the dining room was ready to blaze with one flick of a match. Andrei and Alex took their seats, and if looks could kill, my head would have probably exploded from Andrei’s glare.
"Okay, Jade." Andrei’s sarcasm wasn’t appreciated. "What’s changed for you to suddenly want to do a one-eighty and help us, hm?"
He clasped his fingers together and tilted his head to the side. Olga rolled her eyes at his fake smile and gave me her full attention.
Andrei was getting on my fucking nerves.
“If you can’t understand, no amount of explaining will get it through your head. My father controlled my life, okay? You’re working so hard to avoid prison, imagine living in one your whole life.”
There was a beat of silence where I held it together, praying not to break down into tears. And Alex noticed. Because of course. Of course he noticed.
His chair scraped the floor and he rounded the table, taking a seat beside me. “What is it, baby? What do you need help with? Tell me.” He was gentle, like always. Understanding.
On my side.
I swallowed hard, pushing my tears away, afraid to look directly at him.
“I can’t go back home. I can’t.” The words left my lips, the truth out there now.
I looked at Andrei, having no courage to break down in front of Alex.
“I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to see him.
He saw my bruises, saw what Xavier did, and he didn’t believe me. I don’t want to see him ever again.”
It was all so heavy. It all weighed on me day and night, and now that I was so far removed, sitting in my kidnapper’s home and opening up about my fucked up relationship with my father, it all seemed so self-explanatory.
I never wanted to see him again. Easy. Simple.
Alex’s large and warm hand slid on my thigh, his palm up, beckoning for my hand. I intertwined my fingers with his, my nervous system relaxing.
“Do you want help?” I asked Andrei, who sat there a lot less angry than a minute ago. “I’m going to tell him everything.” I motioned toward Alex, knowing that even if neurotic Andrei wasn’t on board, I’d tell my man everything I knew. “You can listen too.”