Chapter 28
EVA
“Special pizza delivery.” Marco holds up the bag while the bell over the bookstore’s front door jingles, announcing his arrival. “Onions, olives, peppers, meatballs, pineapple, and sweet peppers.”
My brother wrinkles his nose as he says the last part.
“Blame the babies,” I say, getting up from behind the counter to grab the bag from him. “Thank God you’re here. I was afraid I was going to faint.”
Marco barely has his sub unboxed, and I’ve already scarfed my way through half a slice of pizza like someone who hasn’t eaten in days.
My brother looks bemused, but I couldn’t care less as the shakes racking my entire body slow, then finally cease.
I’d only been a little dramatic. My blood sugar had been falling, and fast.
I’ve always been a touch hypoglycemic, but the babies and my pregnancy have made it so much worse. The doctor was clear I wasn’t actually eating for three, but simply giving my body the energy it needs to grow two babies into being.
“God, this is so good,” I groan, already on my second slice.
Marco has only taken two bites from his sub. He laughs. “You sure there are only two babies in there? The pizza’s not bad, but I’ve never seen someone go into the throes of ecstasy like that.”
I flip him off, and he laughs again. Then he reaches into the pizza box to snag a tiny meatball.
It looks like I’ve been eating for three, too. Okay, maybe not three, but at nearly twenty weeks, I’m no longer able to hide my pregnancy, even with a baggy sweatshirt. So I’ve given up and bought some maternity clothes.
My bump is still small for twins, but apparently I’m right on schedule, and the babies are right on schedule with their growth. Both seem healthy.
Which means I’ve had to start ignoring the looks thrown my way from our community. I disappear for a while, then come back pregnant? I know there are many questions, and I won’t answer them. I don’t acknowledge the looks or the judgment, either.
I’m judging myself enough as it is.
I would take judgment over my father’s stony silence. Ever since I started showing, he’s taken to pretending I don’t even exist, even when we’re in the same house.
“You want my pickle?”
Marco holds up the pickle spear, and I realize I’ve been staring at it as I munch my way through a third slice of pizza.
“Yes, please.” I grab it before my brother thinks twice about it and alternate between eating that and the pizza.
Marco wrinkles his nose again, and I laugh.
He’s excited about the babies, about becoming an uncle. He’s already volunteered to babysit for me, though I know he has no idea what he’s signed up for.
Hell, I have no idea what’s coming for me. One baby is hard enough, but two? On my own? I don’t expect Marco to stay nights to help me feed and change them. He has his own life and his own place. And I’m the one who got myself into this situation, not him.
Even Katie is excited about having babies in the house. She’s already picked out names for them, though I keep telling her they won’t stick, and she has a Pinterest board with baby gear and nursery ideas she adds to every day.
It makes me happy that at least they’re excited, even if I’m still scared shitless about the whole thing.
Sometimes, I wonder if Jordan would have been excited, but then I feel guilty for wondering, and then I feel even guiltier because I’m the reason he’s not here.
“So the doctor said everything is good?”
I nod and swallow, my hunger finally abating. “Everything looks good. Babies are growing well and they’re where they’re supposed to be. Heartbeats are strong. Both are moving.”
I reach into my purse behind the desk and hand him the roll of ultrasound pictures. He takes them eagerly, gazing at the tiny hands, the little faces, the little noses.
“One of the babies is yawning.” I push myself as far as I can over the desk and point to the picture. “I know it’s hard to see, but if you look closely—”
A look of wonder crosses my brother’s face, a smile so soft it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. “I see it. Wow. They can yawn?”
I nod, my chest suddenly tight as a thought flashes across my mind.
I wish I could see Evgeny smile like that as he gazes at his children. Which is ridiculous because I doubt he even wants them. And I don’t know if I want him in their lives.
Except, my mind is still rejecting the idea that he had any direct part in my brother being killed. It’s an irreconcilable difference between the man I came to know and the man I know is the Kucherov Demon. I can’t seem to wrap my head around it. I know it’s possible, but it seems improbable.
Had I been so incredibly wrong about him? Judged him so incorrectly? Listened to my heart and the lies I was telling myself so blindly? Except my brain won’t accept that it’s true, and I hate myself for it. I’m supposed to hate Evgeny instead and banish all thoughts of him from my mind.
However, when my father’s coldness to me becomes too much, when the house feels stifling with reminders of Jordan and my mom all around, when all I want to do is curl into a ball and disappear, the only thing my body and mind seeks is the soft solitude of his estate and Evgeny’s arms.
“Hey, so...”
My brother’s hesitant start draws me away from my spiraling thoughts, where I spend many hours a day. I gesture with a half-finished pizza crust for him to continue, curious about the hesitation.
“I got a letter from the Bursar’s office yesterday. At first I thought it was a mistake, but I went in to confirm. My tuition is paid off.”
The pizza crust goes dry in my mouth, and I nearly choke on it. I have to down the rest of my water before my coughing fit stops.
“It’s what?” I manage.
“Paid off. All of it. My tuition for the rest of the year, plus the loans I took out.”
We stare at each other with the same dark eyes. Neither of us has to question how or why Marco is free of tuition and debt.
Evgeny.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I, um, got a letter from the property company. It says all of Dad’s back rent for this place is forgiven, and we have a six-month grace period before we have to start paying again.”
“Shit.” Marco runs a hand roughly through his thick, dark hair until strands stand on end.
Neither of us knows what else to say, and the only sound is from the old, noisy fridge in the back. Someone walks by the windows without glancing in, busy on the phone at their ear. Someone else walks a small dog on the sidewalk across the street, pausing every few feet so the dog can sniff.
“Eva, are you sure Evgeny had something to do with, well, you know?”
My brother’s voice has a plaintive note, and his eyes are dark with sadness. Our grief has only just started to abate, the scar beginning to scab over. We all know they’ll never heal completely.
I reach across the desk and take his hand. I know he misses Evgeny. He can’t believe the guy he’d come to idolize could have had any part in Jordan’s death. He was either smarter than me or more na?ve, and I wasn’t sure which.
“Yes,” I answer him, not wanting to give him any hope.
Now that my head isn’t quite so fogged with grief, I can’t say it with the certainty I want to.
With Marco free from debt and the bookstore not teetering on the edge of disaster, I’m even less sure.
Is Evgeny trying to get back on my good side, a tacit admission of guilt?
Or is he caring for my family and me like he promised, even though I told him to stay out of my life?
“Hey.” I hold up my water bottle. “The water purifier quit working, and I’m out of water. Can you run down to the 7-11 and get me a Gatorade or something with electrolytes?”
I know my brother will agree, which is why I send him. I do need hydration, as the OB/GYN drilled into my head. But I also need Marco to go somewhere else so I don’t have to see the sadness in his entire being from losing Jordan and Evgeny at the same time.
“Sure. Be right back.”
He’s out the door to the corner store in a moment, and I take a deep breath, rising to clean the remains of our lunch.
The bell rings as I’m in the back, throwing the boxes into the trash and rinsing out a cup for Marco’s soda. It won’t hurt if I take a tiny bit. I haven’t even had any coffee today.
“Be there in a minute!” I call out.
When I walk out to the front, Dmitri is standing in the middle of the store, glancing at a few of the titles I’d arranged on an end cap.
He turns at the sound of my entrance, his attention moving first to my face and then to my visible baby bump.
We both freeze, panic pushing my heart into my throat.
Dmitri is the first one to break the silence. “Fuck, Eva,” he swears, turns as though to leave, then doubles back, running his hand over his close-cropped hair. “Is it his?”
“Yes. Of course they are,” I snap, offended. I stomp back behind the desk to shuffle receipts without any real reason. If only to hide my quaking hands, there’s a very good chance the Kucherov vor will drag me back to Evgeny.
And if that happens? Well, I have no idea what will happen. I have no idea if my babies or I will be safe or if I’ll ever get to see them after they’re born.
Except, deep down, I do know, and my tremors cease.
“Did you know— wait, wait, wait.” Dmitri interrupts himself, crossing to the desk in only two large strides. He plants his hands and leans over, eyes boring holes into mine. “Did you say they?”
Shit! Why hadn’t I been more careful?
I take a deep breath. “Yes. They.”
The expletives that fall from Dmitri’s mouth as he stalks around the bookstore are creative, if long-winded. He finally comes to a stop and sags onto the stool Marco vacated, dragging a hand down his face.
“Evgeny doesn’t know, does he?”
I shake my head.
“Fuck me,” he sighs, and his head drops. “His mom was a twin.”
“I suppose that answers the question.” I wrap my arms protectively around my middle and can’t meet Dmitri’s gaze.
“Eva.” Dmitri’s tone is far softer than I expected it to be, and so is his gaze when I finally raise mine. “He has to know. He deserves to know. They’re his kids, too.”
A flicker of shock races across Dmitri’s face as he says the words, as though he can’t believe he just said them. But I’ve had ample time to get used to the idea.
“Does he?” I snap. “Because after what happened to Jordan, I don’t want him anywhere near my children.”
“Eva, I’m sorry about your brother. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, and I know you’re in a lot of pain. But Evgeny had nothing to do with it. Evgeny made sure everyone knew your family was under his protection and what would happen if anyone went against his word.”
“Maybe Evgeny didn’t kill Jordan, but you can’t tell me that my involvement with him didn’t have anything to do with it. I was working for him against Tsepov, for Christ’s sake!”
“Evgeny has spent the past two months trying to figure out who killed Jordan and why. We’re getting close.”
It’s not hard to push me toward feeling unsure about my certainty. But I try to hold on for dear life until I can’t anymore.
“Why hasn’t he told me himself?” I ask.
“Because you asked him not to. You asked him never to contact you again. He might be a powerful man, but he has honor, Eva, and he respects you. The Evgeny you saw? It wasn’t some stunt. You saw the real man, the one hiding under all those scars and snarls.”
I think about Marco’s tuition, and the bookstore’s rent as I chip absently at the worn wood of the desk with a fingernail.
“He thinks he’s lost you entirely, Eva.” I look at Dmitri when I hear an unexpected note of sadness in the big man’s voice and realize how worried he is for his boss, how much he cares for his friend. “Eva, being away from you is killing him. He’s a wreck.”
So am I, I want to say. I want to let out the tears squeezing my throat tight, which seem to be never-ending since that day in the warehouse.
“Just give him five minutes, Eva. Just talk to him. Let him tell you what happened and look over all the information I’ve collected. Just five minutes.”
Dmitri climbs to his feet, and I watch him cautiously.
“I won’t tell him about it, yet.” He jerks his chin toward my rounding middle. “But he has to know.”
I take a deep breath in through my nose and let it out. “I’ll think about it.”
Dmitri nods, satisfied for the moment with my answer, and leaves as unobtrusively as he arrived. I’m still not sure how a guy that big can move so quietly.
I stand at the counter, staring at the empty doorway. At the window Evgeny had replaced the day following the incident.
I think of how Evgeny looked at me, as if I were the only other person in the world. As though I was the only person in the world he wanted to be with. The way his touch and the way he held me told me the same.
I think of the softer side he had shown me, the way he had cared for my family and me, even when he knew I didn’t want to see him.
Could I trust what Dmitri said? That I’d seen the real Evgeny? I’d been so overcome with grief and shock when I saw Jordan’s body, my mind had immediately moved to the worst. I hadn’t been able to think, hadn’t been able to reason, hadn’t been able to do anything other than scream and cry and rage.
Just give him five minutes, Eva. Just talk to him.
Marco passes by the window holding a 7-11 bag, the bell jingling yet again, too cheerful for the storm bubbling up inside me as my brother comes back in.
“I have to go.” The words are out before I even have a moment to think about them. “Can you watch the store? I’ll be back. I just—” I’m already grabbing my keys and purse without waiting for Marco’s reply. “I’ll be back.”
“Eva, what—?”
“I’ll be back soon,” I call over my shoulder, closing the door on his next question, heading for the old car parked halfway down the block.
It takes me three tries before the engine finally turns over, my heart racing a mile a minute as I curse at it, my palms sweating as I finally get it going.
As I head across town, it’s all I can do to remain calm as I navigate through traffic. I seem to hit every red light on the way to Palos Verdes. I just hope Dmitri is right and Evgeny will talk to me instead of turning me away.
Things were going smoothly until they weren’t.
I see the car out of the corner of my eye, large and black, and speeding toward me without a sign of slowing.
The force of the impact reaches me at the same time as the sound of shrieking metal and shattering glass.
The sensation of being jerked back and forth makes everything blur, pain erupting in my head and shoulder, and then the world goes black.