11. Evgeny #3
I can tell the no choice comment worries her, but she meets my eyes and says, “Thank you for making him promise that. I know he’ll never go back on his word to you. Are you seeing him tomorrow? They won’t let me have my first visit for two more days.”
“I’m going tomorrow to see him. As his attorney, I can visit him as often as I need to, and I plan on using that for all its worth on this one.”
“Can you tell him we love him and that we’re fine so he can stop worrying?”
We both know she’s not fine, but I’m not about to call her out on it. “Of course I’ll tell him.”
“Thanks, Ev,” she starts to say, but then stops when she starts to cry. After a few seconds, she manages to add, “There’s no way I could’ve gotten through the last two days without you. I know you won’t stop until he’s free, and that’s the only thing holding me together right now.”
I give her another hug, refusing to let her see the impact her words have on me. When I let her go and step back, the women in my family take my place, swarming around Cindy and making sure she knows she’s not alone in this.
When I feel a hand on my arm, I look over and see my dad.
He motions for me to follow him before leading the way through the crowd and down the hall to Uncle Lev’s office.
Shutting the door behind me, I sit down when my dad pats the leather chair he walks past on the way to the small liquor cabinet in the corner.
It’s locked since the grandkids are over here so often, but my dad knows the combination, so it’s only a matter of seconds before it’s opened and a bottle of vodka is being pulled off the shelf.
He doesn’t ask if I want one, just pours us each a drink and hands me one before taking the chair next to mine.
We drink in silence, and it’s the reprieve I’ve needed all day.
There’s no escape from the stress of this, but goddamn I just need a breather, a few minutes of escape before I have to start working on this again.
There is no clocking out when it’s family.
I work long hours every day, but even then there’s a time when I stop, when I shut it all out and live my own life for a few hours.
I can’t do that now, though. Every second needs to be about Sasha.
As if reading my mind, my dad finally speaks. “You’re going to kill yourself if you keep this up, and then you’ll be no use at all to Sasha or anyone else,” he warns while looking at me over the rim of his glass. “Plus your mom is worried, and you know I can’t allow that to continue.”
“I’m sorry she’s worried,” I tell him. “I just want Sasha out of there as quickly as possible. Every time I try to take a break, I feel guilt about it because he’s stuck in a cell. You and I both know you can’t cage a feral animal for long.”
“Sasha will be fine,” my dad insists. “He’s strong.
He’s not going to crack in a couple of months.
You’ll get him out of there, but you’re more likely to overlook something if you’re exhausted.
Taking care of yourself isn’t selfish.” He stops to take another drink before asking, “Isn’t that what they always tell new mothers?
You can’t take care of anyone else if you’re running on empty and have nothing left to give. ”
“I know.” I take another drink, even though I know it’s just going to make me feel more tired than I already do. “I’m trying.”
“Your body is going to give out whether you want it to or not. Trust me.”
He takes another drink, this one bigger than the last, and I know he’s remembering the two years he spent searching for my mom. If they survived that hell, then I can get my shit together and save my cousin while also making sure I don’t pass out from exhaustion or lack of calories.
“You make it impossible to complain about anything, you know that, right?” I ask him.
The scarred hand that’s wrapped around his glass lowers so it’s resting on his thigh.
“Your mom and I always tried to keep the worst of it from you two, but when you go through a hell like that, it leaves a mark, no matter how hard you try to erase it. Feel free to bitch, Ev. You’ll go crazy if you don’t.
You can be grateful for what you have and still rant every now and then.
It doesn’t mean you’re an ungrateful ass. It just means you’re human.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I tell him. “In that case, this fucking sucks, and I kind of wish I’d just picked up a gun instead of all those textbooks.”
His laugh is deep, just like his scarred voice when he says, “You kind of picked up both. You always were an overachiever. You get those smarts from your mom.”
He’s been telling me that since I was a kid, but he’s not fooling me.
My dad is about as smart as they come. He may not have graduated college, but I’ve never once thought that was an accurate measure of intelligence.
Lots of dumbasses have degrees. Some things can’t be taught with a book, though, and that’s what my dad and uncles excel at.
“Did you know about Niki’s side project?” I ask, curious to know if he was involved.
“No, I had no idea, but I would’ve helped him if he’d told any of us about it. Apparently, he’s been doing it for years.”
“I heard,” I say. “It’s risky, but I’m not surprised he did it or that he tried to protect everyone else from it in case it blew up at some point.”
“That sounds like him.”
“Yeah,” I agree, “it does.”
When there’s a knock at the door, we both look over before Niki pokes his head in.
“Speak of the devil,” I mutter while my dad takes another drink.
Niki steps in and holds out his phone. “Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you’d want to see this, Ev.”
Standing, I take the phone he offers me. When I see the security image showing a white hatchback parked across the street, I sigh, the slightly more relaxed feeling I’d just had slipping away with my exhale.
“Guess you didn’t kill her curiosity,” Niki says, and even though he doesn’t follow it with an I told you so, dumbass, I still hear it loud and clear.
“She’s a journalist,” I say, trying to make it sound like it’s not a big deal, like she isn’t right at this very moment ignoring everything I told her and driving me crazy in the process.
“I also didn’t try to sneak over here this time.
I have every right to be here. In fact, it would look weird if I wasn’t.
” I hand him back his phone. “She has nothing on me.”
“Who is she?” my dad asks, taking the phone from Niki’s hand so he can see for himself.
“A journalist who’s been asking me questions. She was assigned Sasha’s story,” I say.
Niki raises a brow at me but stays quiet, not sharing that I invited her into my home and shared a meal with her.
“You need to watch her, Ev,” my dad says. “Want us to put someone on her to make sure she stays out of this?”
“It’s fine,” I tell him, not mentioning that Pavel was assigned to watch her but that I told him to stop after I’d had her over for supper.
None of that seems important enough to share right now.
Harper isn’t the problem, at least not in the way they’re thinking.
She’s my problem, and I’ll be the one to take care of it.
“She’s just going to follow you home,” my dad warns.
“I can outlast her,” I say, knowing she’ll eventually need to leave so she can take care of Watson.
I can tell my dad is still worried, so I refill his drink and say, “Come on, let’s bring in the others and make sure Sasha can’t be linked back to the crime he actually committed that night.”
With the focus back on Sasha, I take another drink and will the stubborn journalist from my mind.
I have a feeling it’s going to take a lot more vodka to accomplish that, though, and drunk is the last thing I can afford to let myself be right now.
When all this is over, I promise myself a night of complete and total inebriation.
I want to pass out, sleep for twelve hours, and forget all about Sasha’s arrest and the infuriating and gorgeous Harper Reed.