Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Sage
My leg aches as I hobble into the kitchen and sit myself atop the counter.
I wince as I pull my jeans up to expose my most recent battle wound.
The bandage looks far from clean, with blood around the edges that has gone dark and brown.
Though it's not oozing, so I must have done a decent job of patching it up.
I tell myself it's just like pulling off a band-aid, which it literally is, so I do it fast. The patch comes away with a whoosh but not without a whimper from me.
Tiny spots of blood pop up around the spot where Alexei cut me.
Overall, it seems the mismatched stitches have done their job.
The skin is pulling together. Lopsided. But pulling together nonetheless.
In reality, this is just a flesh wound. Something superficial. Far less than the wounds that I got from my captor when I was nine. Far less than the wounds Alexei's brother gave me not that long ago.
I slap on a fresh bandage and pull my jeans back down.
The sound of tires crunching over rock catches my attention at the same time that I slip off the bench.
Outside the window a van travels unhurriedly up the driveway, pushing gravel into a dust cloud.
Freddie and Anton come out the main doors and from the looks on their faces this is a visit they're expecting.
I decide this is my business too, and hastily rush out there to see what's going on.
"Uncle Anton?" I question, pushing open the front doors and shielding my eyes from the blinding sun as I come to stand at his side.
Anton turns expectantly and deflates when he sees me, making minimal effort to stop me from being there. "Sage. You should be inside for this."
"What?" I frown. "Why?"
Curiosity kills me as the van doors open. It's the passenger that's the first to take a step out and make herself known.
Ugh.
Angie.
"You? Really?" I sneer.
Angie steps out looking goddess-like as per usual. Her stiletto heels should slip in the gravel; I would certainly slip if it were me, but her steps are confident and sure. Her red hair doesn't even ruffle in the breeze as she presents herself, smile framed by her blood-red lipstick.
"Sage, go inside," Uncle Anton pleads with me, hissing through his teeth.
"I've killed people for nicer talk," Angie says, warning me with a look. The smell of her acidic, yet still feminine and powerful, perfume assaults my nose as she faces us.
"Angie," Anton nods.
"Anton," she says, reaching out her hand for him to kiss. Which, even though he purses his lips in annoyance, he does. Freddie is far more flirty when he reaches out for his turn, pressing his lips to her hand and lingering for far too long. Gross.
"What is she doing here?" I ask.
Not that Angie hasn't done a lot for me. But now I can't see her without being reminded of everything I did wrong. She's a big, red, fiery reminder of every mistake I've ever made. It would be immature of me to blame her for it. But I do.
"The girl asks a good question," Angie admits. Angie does her signature smirk as she looks between me and my uncle. "She doesn't know?"
That has my hackles raising. There is nothing that Angie should know that I shouldn't. I thought my uncle was well past the point of keeping things from me. Not when the consequences of doing so were so disastrous the last few times he'd tried it.
Anton's jaw is tight, and he eyes Angie like he really wishes it wasn't beneath him to slap her.
"Well, she's about to know," Angie says, straightening her necklace with a pointed nail. "Things have gotten considerably worse since we last spoke."
"Worse how?" Anton asks, not sparing me a glance.
"More sniffing around. More word getting out. More danger for…," Angie looks me up and down, "the item I'm safekeeping for you."
I frown. "What the hell does that mean? You're talking about-"
My dad.
"Yes," Angie confirms. "There was a breach last night. It was not good."
My head spins, blood draining from my face as I run through worst-case scenarios, horrible fates, and the most devastating outcomes my thoughts can conjure. All just from the mention of something happening to Dad.
"I need to sit down," I announce, crouching into the ground and letting the gravel dig into my butt at the same time that my monitor starts beeping obnoxiously.
"Calm down, Miss DeMarco," Angie says, shaking her head as she regards me. "Two men got into your father's room. They were dealt with. Even so, I had to move him."
Anton watches me with only mild concern as I note the dose and shut down the monitor.
"You've run out of secure places to manage this," Anton concludes, nodding like that makes perfect sense. Which it doesn't. Even though I can see the movement behind his eyes as he chews on his lip, unsure what to do.
As I look between him and Angie, the pieces start falling into place. "This isn't the first breach," I guess.
Angie shakes her head. "No. But this is by far the worst. It's clear these men have been looking for something. Probably Dimitri. And now they've found him."
I expel a breath, knowing exactly what this is. My hands shake as I wrap them around my legs, feeling small and pathetic but knowing if I stand up right now I'll faint for sure.
"It's Alexei. It has to be," I say. "He's got it out for me. He's resourceful. Somehow he knows."
"Sage-" Anton reaches out to unwind my shaking hands, but I swat him away. He folds his arms as he, too, looks down on me. "It's not him, Sage."
"Like hell it isn't," I say, grinding my teeth and mimicking a gun with my fingers. "I'm going to take my gun right now and go and shoot that fucker right between the-"
"It's not him, Miss DeMarco," Angie says, her calm tone bordering on condescending.
I pause, eyes darting between her and my uncle.
"It is Chet," Angie announces, raising her chin in surety.
My heartbeat quickens at the same time sweat beads at my forehead. Any measure of calm I'd clawed back goes flying away with the mention of his name.
Chet was a threat that hadn't surfaced in years and one that was meant to die with Victor. Denial hits me like a bus. "It's... it's not Chet," I reason, my voice catching around his name.
"Unfortunately it is," Angie says. "His men have been sniffing around me. How he knew what he would find, God only knows, but he did."
"But-but-" I stutter. "He had Victor doing all his dirty work, and it's all stopped since. Chet hasn't been a threat in a long time."
"It definitely hasn't stopped," Anton admits, unable to even look at me.
I'm surprised at how quickly guilt and sadness wash over me.
Dad is only lying helpless in that hospital bed because of me.
Because of mistakes I made, keep making, and can never seem to undo.
Given how easily I burn the lives near mine, I can't help but wonder if everyone would be far better off staying the hell away from me.
"I am holding Dimitri for now but I would suggest you bring him back here. There's no point in me continuing to hold him when you no longer need him away from Victor and he is much safer in these walls than he would be with me," Angie says.
"I understand," Anton agrees, nodding. "Dimitri should come back here. Immediately."
"I'll arrange the transport," Angie says, turning on her heel.
"Do it now, please Angie, whatever it costs," Anton demands. "I want him back here within the hour-"
"Wait-wait-wait," I say, holding my hands out and stopping everyone. "Back to Chet, it cannot be him. There is no way Dad is safer here-"
Angie grabs me by the arm and stares into my eyes.
"It is not safe for your father anywhere but here, girl.
You may think he's left you alone because he's been quiet.
But he's not like Victor with the showboating and the displays of power.
Chet will sneak through your defenses before you know he's even been nearby. "
Anton gives Angie a foul look, shaking his head while she slowly releases my arm. It's only inside that I can admit what she says terrifies me.
"You may not remember, you were too young," Angie says, sighing. "The point is, do not discount Chet while he's quiet, by the time he becomes loud it's already too late."
I run my fingers over my lips where they've gone cold. I do remember. Of all of us I've spent the most time on the receiving end of Chet's wrath. I know all too well he was never showy like Victor. He's everything Angie said, and it is even more horrifying up close.
"Don't stress yet," Angie says, signature smile back on her face. "Word is he's desperate for Rushkoff blood. But I surmise he'll eventually be coming for yours."
"Rushkoff blood?" Anton asks.
"As far as he's concerned he had a deal with the Rushkoff pakhan to hand Miss DeMarco over to him. Regardless of who that pakhan was."
"I see," Anton says.
I frown. "Well, I don't. Chet wants to kill Alexei? He can get in fucking line."
Anton closes his eyes on a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose.
"He wants to kill all of you, girl," Angie says.
"I'm not worried," Freddie shrugs.
"You should be," Angie says. Still, Freddie is unfazed.
I narrow my eyes on Angie. Thinking of all the ways I hate her, too.
"You're not buying this?" I spin towards my uncle. He doesn't answer, which is answer enough in itself. "Oh, fuck this."
I storm off up the driveway, not sure where I'm going, but knowing I've got too much energy to burn off to stay here, and everyone is too exhausted with me to follow.
It's beyond ridiculous to think Chet is behind any of this when Alexei is right here in my face, readying to torment me in new ways every day. Besides his little stunt with Victor, Chet has been quiet for over ten years.
I stop when I hear Angie chuckle at something Anton has said. Annoyed to turn around and find them conversing without thought to my tantrum.
I rush up the driveway at just short of a run. So angry that all I can do is pout and growl to let it out. Mostly for the usual reasons.
But especially because Anton seems to be buying all this crap.