Chapter 25Ana #2
“What? No. I don’t have any say in your life.”
He scoffs. “You know that’s not true. We need to figure shit out, just you and me, conversations we’re not having in front of other people—”
Kseniya pipes up with, “Counterpoint: you need a fact checker.”
“You are supposed to be on my side,” Vasily snaps at her.
“We’re all Team Ana,” Alex says confidently, making me wonder how much they know.
“Be that as it may,” Vasily grits out, “I know you and I aren’t in a good spot right now, but I meant everything I said to you, okay?
I love you. I love you in English. Ya tebya lyublyu po-Russki.
Ti amo in Italiano, if you want that, too.
And Artom? I’m not going to threaten you, but you’re not keeping me from him. ”
“That sounds like a threat.”
He shrugs unapologetically, and no one takes my side this time when he says, “Sorry, but you lost any chance of keeping us apart when Dima told me you’ve both promised him I’d be in his life one day. I’m not breaking that promise.”
“That was a dumb promise,” I mutter, but it’s another piece that fits too perfectly in the puzzle to deny.
“Your problem, not mine. You may not remember this, but I have not forgotten a single second of the morning we made plans of running away together and living like normal people. You were going to be a barista, and I was going to be a security guard, and we were going to make it work. As of right now, Flagstaff thinks I’m dead.
The Bratva probably thinks I’m dead, too.
Now’s the time to do that if it’s what you want. ”
“I can’t just vanish.”
“We can make you vanish. Or if you want to go back to Florida, that’s a little trickier, but we can manage. It’ll kill me to do it, but I can play with the Consummate boys and we’ll just have to figure out some disguise for me. It’s... yeah, it’s tricky. But we can try.”
“But you’re pakhan. What about everything you’ve built? I couldn’t ask you to give it all up. ”
He doesn’t get down on one knee, not quite, but he does lower himself onto the bench running along the farmhouse kitchen table and take my hand, looking up at me as he says, “You can ask me anything.”
I feel everyone’s eyes on me. I know Vasily’s whole family has died except his sister and him.
There’s a rift between Vasily and Dima, but they’ve been best friends their whole lives.
Even Alex, who’s not really a member of the Bratva anymore and hasn’t seen Vasily in years, clearly looks up to him.
Vasily might mean what he says, but a lot of people don’t want to lose him.
“You’re not giving up your life for me.”
“What life do I have without you?” he asks with all the angst of a teenage boy getting dumped for the first time.
“Vasya,” Kseniya starts, but I wave her off.
“Who takes over if you’re gone? Is it Kostya?”
Vasily growls, actually growls, at that.
“That’s what I thought. You’re not giving your life up. You’re not handing the Bratva to him. And I’m not going to live another day at Tony’s house, but I’ve gotten back enough memories to fill a saucepan, so it looks like you’re stuck with me and Artom. So—”
He tugs my arm hard enough to unbalance me, forcing me into his arms and into a kiss that has everyone else gagging and snickering.
I scold him with, “I wasn’t done.”
“Go on,” he says, and every single person is behind me, so they all see his hands on my ass.
I sigh. “So I guess we’re going to have to figure out how to destroy Kostya and Tony.”
“I will figure out how to destroy Kostya and Tony.”
“We.”
From behind me, Dima says, “See, I told you she’s like this.”
Planning is a challenge. When Vasily says I need to return to Phoenix immediately and I start to fight because I refuse to be worthless or let everyone else decide what I can do, he’s clear that it’s only because I’ll need to drive back and he wants me to get hold of Artom as soon as possible.
He assures me that it’s not because of Maria and even brings her in on a conference call to work everything out.
The call goes on the road with Alex and me, since Alex is the only one available to drive who no one will recognize.
Dima and Vasily are both well known in Phoenix, and a lot of people are looking for Kseniya.
As soon as her pink and black hair is spotted, everyone’s going to chase us down.
Alex and I are average looking. No one will suspect anything.
The call lasts the entire two hours it takes us to get to Phoenix, and Maria opens the door for me at her place while she assures Vasily for the hundredth time that she will check the gun she’s going to give me, that my safety is her sole priority.
It’s still night when we’ve reviewed the plan for the final time.
Vasily tells me he loves me and to sleep well.
I tell him to sleep well. I tasted freedom, and it was lovely, and though I’ve agreed to return to Vasily, I recognize him for what he is: another cage.
I don’t know yet if I’m the cat who enjoys her little outdoor adventures and then meows to come in or if I’m the mouse who’s only in my cage because I can’t figure out how to escape.
The guest room Maria has put Artom in is nice, the bed comfy and plenty big enough for both of us, but I can only sleep for a couple hours before nervous energy gets the best of me.
It’s not so big a deal, though. I’ve got a crazy day in front of me, and I have only a few minutes left to my own thoughts as I throw together a breakfast for the four of us.
Artom awakes first. He’s immediately suspicious when I make him a hot cocoa instead of pouring a healthier drink, and he’s right to be suspicious.
“I have to go again,” I tell him when I take him out on Maria’s porch, where there’s a weathered wooden swing for two we can watch the sunrise from.
Artom doesn’t watch the sunrise, though. He stares right at me. “I don’t want you to go,” he sniffles.
“I know, baby. I don’t want to either. And... it might be scarier for you this time.”
His bottom lip quivers. “But it was scary then, too.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.” I hug him so I can hide as I dash my own tears. “I don’t want this either. But remember how Uncle D always told you it was for Daddy’s safety that we couldn’t be with him?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, now it’s for your safety that I can’t be with you. Just for a little while. You’re gonna stay here with Uncle Tony and Auntie Cami, and I’m going to help Daddy and Uncle D, and—”
“You saw Daddy and Uncle D?”
“I did, and they miss you so much and they’re so excited to get you back.”
I tell him what he needs to do, and he doesn’t like it, but I think he understands. Hopefully he inherited my flair for the dramatic.
Camilla is more complicated. I have to start the conversation confronting her about being less than truthful about my relationship with Vasily, and no one likes confrontation .
“I just didn’t want him to hurt you again,” she finally confesses after I push enough. “And... fine, I wanted you to stay here. I miss you so much, Laces.”
“That you’d trick me into living with Tony again?”
“Aww, he’s not as bad as he used to be,” she says like she really believes it.
It’s enough that I nearly make up some other reason for calling her and force another conference call on the Sedona crew, but then it dawns on me that I’ve probably kept secrets from her.
Not even for good reasons either. I was probably too embarrassed to admit Dima stole Vasily’s credit card to pay my utilities.
And what Tony just did? Telling her about that would have amounted to one more person to fight me about making a sacrificial lamb of myself.
“Tony sold me to sex traffickers,” I blurt out.
“Gino!” Camilla screeches at the top of her lungs. “We’re putting a hit out on Tony the Bitch!”
“Stop!” I cry out, failing to hold back my laugh. “We’re not quite there yet. But I need your help, Cartwheel.”
If she was going to fight at all, calling her by her old nickname is enough to get a teary “You remembered?” and agreement to everything I ask for.
Planning may be a challenge, but execution is easy.
Artom and I return to Tony’s, where we wait for him to come home and share with me the biggest news of the day.
Of all the things I’ve remembered, the craziest thing is the combination to the family safe, which I check for anything I might want to take with me— and make an interesting find.
And then Artom and I have a quiet dinner, and as we’re cleaning up, Tony comes home, tells Artom to go to bed, and shares his devastating news with me.
Vasily is dead .
What? No. That’s impossible. He was fine a couple days ago. An overdose? He said he was clean. He was taking all those pills though.
I know I should hate him, but he’s the father of my child.
I hate him. I loved him.
How could this have happened.
You’re right. I should go lie down.
But I don’t. I use the next couple hours to applaud my own performance— I cried, I fought, I did my best to pull myself together— and draft several notes, each one making its way to my waste bin until I reach perfection.
I do the same with outfits, genuinely hating all my options because I’m an adult with my own business and responsibilities and a preferred treadmill at the gym I hardly ever go to, and these are the clothes of a smaller, younger, more conservative but desperate to be trendy college girl.
I ultimately go with the most expensive items in my closet that I know would do well on a reseller site.
Just out of spite. It’s all going to get ruined, but if Tony decides to sell off all my belongings tomorrow to recoup his losses from my escape from the sex traffickers, he won’t get the Chanel tweed jacket, the Hermès scarf, or the Manolo Blahnik heels.
Hey, the Manolos might even survive this.
I tuck my finding from the family safe into the pocket of my jacket, and then I wait some more, listening closely for the sign.
It’s a knock at nine at night. The house is quiet enough that I can hear Maria’s voice at the front door, telling Tony she needs to see me urgently.
That’s the cue right there, but I’m temporarily thrown off when Tony says, “Oh, I told her already. She’s fine.
But I need to talk to you about securing my piece of his empire.
Kostya’s promised me a cut, but you know you can’t trust those Russians. ”
That’s it. That’s the last bit of incriminating evidence. I already got everything I needed, but it’s good to know they were in on it together.
I grab the gun Maria gave me, aim it at my chest, and pull the trigger.
The explosion is deafening, but the blood packet mostly just stings as it ruins the Chanel tweed jacket. I fall back, landing hard enough the blood packet taped to my back bursts, soaking through immediately and leaking up to my neck, ruining the Hermès scarf.
Maria rushes in several seconds before Tony, as expected, and she checks my pulse and closes my eyes dramatically.
In the hallway, Artom says, “Mama? Mama, what was that sound?”
Oh yeah, he takes after me.
I’ve already said goodbye to him, but it hurts knowing that when Maria hisses, “You have to call Camilla and tell her to get over here right now,” it’s because Camilla’s going to be taking care of him until we get everything figured out.
Maria calls 911, but not really. I’m lifted onto a stretcher and zipped into a bag by two EMTs, but not really, and I’m driven away in an ambulance that doesn’t bother to turn its lights on, since I’m already dead.
I don’t even know if it has lights, being that it’s an ATF decoy manned by ATF agents.
She didn’t tell Vasily that was how she had access to a fake ambulance, but she told me.
In the back of the ambulance is Alex, ready to take me to the rendezvous point.
I wait until we’ve already transferred to a late model Kia and been given fake licenses before pulling my find from my pocket.
“What’s that?” Alex asks .
“It’s the cross my father bought me for my confirmation,” I tell him as I clasp it around my neck and rub the stones, the ridges every bit as soothing as I suspected they’d be.
“I was wearing it the night I was kidnapped by those sex traffickers and got amnesia. I just found it in the family safe. Tony must have been there that night, and he stole my necklace.”
“Prick.”
Yep.