Chapter 26 #2
“You never mention your childhood,” Belinda slurs her words, and I tilt my head to the side, scanning her closely. She's older than she looks, but her mouse-blonde hair is the kind that never misbehaves, and her skin has never seen a blemish.
“There’s not much to tell.” I trace my glass with my finger. “My father was my best friend. When my mother passed away, he and I did everything together. He took me to work, made me sit in during board meetings, and every birthday, he’d buy me a new tiara.”
My chest fills with warmth the longer I think about him. I guess she was right. I didn’t think much about my family, but it wasn’t because they didn’t treat me well, but because they made me weak.
“Ah, I could see it. I mean, I knew you didn’t have Daddy issues.” I try not to focus on her judgment and shuffle up my chair. “What happened to him?”
I blink, holding my breath. “He’s dead.” A brick slips out of place in my mind and shatters against the pavement. The unknown has bled into every single aspect of my life.
He would be dead.
He would have been brutally murdered the minute I escaped.
Thankfully, she leaves it, and before we both know, we’re stumbling up from the bar, and I’m squinting at my phone to speed dial Daniel.
He answers of the first ring. “I'm outside.”
Ha! Perfect. Daniel. My savior since the very beginning and Nonna made sure Leon and I needed handlers.
“Come on, Doc. I’d better get you home.” My hand is in hers as I weave us through the people who’ve started to gather through the night. She doesn’t pull away, and when the outside wind snaps at my nose, Daniel rushes out of the driver’s seat and quickly opens the back doors to the city car.
This is me in a sober state compared to how he’s found me this past year.
The door slams closed, leaving us in the warmth of the back seat. I sigh, resting my head against the headrest. Rum lingers in the back of my throat like stained timber, but I close my eyes and say the first words that come to me.
“I’ll never love again.”
The doc doesn’t respond.
“And I think this is a good thing,” I finish, the finality in my tone absolute.
“Everyone needs love, Ivanya,” she murmurs, sleep thick in her tone. “It's what reminds us that we're human.” Her words are a slur before she snores off to sleep.
Love does do that, sure, but so does pain.
* * *
“I’m trying really hard not to be offended here, but I’m not gonna lie, I’m offended…
” Lucinda says through controlled breathing as she runs on the treadmill beside mine.
I’d complained about my hangover without realizing that my best friend would absolutely see that as a betrayal.
After all, she always likes to be present whenever I'm embarrassing myself.
“I’m sure more nights are coming,” I answer without losing breath. Damn. I might need to up my jog. I’ve been running fifteen miles every day. It’s time to extend that.
I hit the timer and the belt slows to a walk.
This year, this has become my safe place.
The gym, Lucinda, and whatever world I let my mind drift off to.
I thought it would be easier as time went on, but it’s becoming worse.
As if the time I robbed him from is being replaced by the ache of losing him.
We both jump off the treadmills and gather our items before pushing our way through the front doors.
I unlock my car and the headlights cut through the darkness.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Ive?” Lucinda asks, just as my hand brushes the handle.
Fresh air fills my lungs as I take a moment to gather my thoughts.
She could be asking one of two things. I’m hoping it’s the second one since the first would imply she doesn’t think it’s a good idea.
I rest on the driver’s door. “I’m always ready. For both things you’re questioning.”
Luce’s eyes fall to my mouth. She wants to say a thousand things, but we both know why she won’t. “I know, but—”
“—but nothing,” I snap and instantly feel bad when I notice her flinch. I don’t fight with my friends. I always found it weird that grown adults would still fight with their friends. We’re old enough to walk away from anything we no longer want. There’s no point in arguing.
“Okay. Fine!” She glares at me behind her suicide door before it chops between us and her window is lowering. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She burns off down the street.
I stay a moment. “I’m sure I won’t!”
I slide into my Maserati, and when the engine fires up beneath me, I turn the music up and pull out onto the street. A call comes through on the dash as I take the turn down my long driveway.
A bright smile spreads across my screen, instantly pulling one onto mine.
I tap answer. “Are you lonely already, Nonna?”
Her laugh rips free, raw and unguarded. “I’m always lonely without my babies around me.”
We don’t remind her that none of us are babies, some of us never were, and she’s not all that old. She’s always seen us that way, whether we wanted her to or not, and none of us are about to fight her on it either.
“I was calling to see how your therapy sessions have been?”
I curse under my breath. “Trou du cul de merde, Nonna. He needs to stop stressing you out.”
She clucks her tongue, and even though I can’t see her, I know she’s giving me that look that says, don’t fucking swear in front of me. I listen more as an adult than I ever did as a teenager.
“Leon is always worried about you, as am I.”
I direct my car up the long drive, climbing corners and hills until the first peak of my house emerges through the trees.
“Well, I am fine. And therapy is going… fine, I guess.”
A microwave slams closed in the background. “You guess?”
My mouth waters, almost transporting myself back to her kitchen. “What are you baking?”
“Ne changez pas de sujet,” Nonna scolds, and I park my car out the front of the steps.
I tap the engine off, realizing I can’t escape her questions.
“Therapy is good. I’m beginning to feel … back to my old self.”
“Ah, so you admit you have been a demon this past year?”
Laughter bubbles up from my belly as I grab my bag and keys and step out into the cold. Daniel waits at the doorway, and I hand him the keys in passing so he can park it underground.
“I guess I have been a little bit.”
She’s silent for a moment. I lower to the bench right at the door to untie my trainers.
“You are allowed to lose yourself every now and then, Ivanya, especially in the name of love.”
I’m about to give the same answer I always do whenever someone brings up that I loved Asher, but words fail to leave me.
She continues. “I’m glad you are back.”
I sit up straight.
“Because there’s something waiting for you on your computer. Don’t fight it, don’t speak or say anything out loud. Just accept. Do you understand these words?”
I already know I’ll take on whatever I’m given, because despite the fact that Parker was supposed to be the end of my Widow life, I’m bored. The kill is boring without theatrics.
As soon as I’ve hung up and am in the house, I fire up my computer, tapping in my password. I never spend a lot of time up here like I used to, mainly because I’ve been on operation Parker, but if this past year has taught me anything, it’s to appreciate silence. Calmness. Pain.
The sound of my laptop being logged in pings, and after refilling my glass of juice, I make my way back, tapping on the keys.
I half expect coordinates, as always, since that’s how Emeric serves our jobs, but a document opens on the screen, revealing David Jefferson, thirty-five years old, divorced twice, and a real estate mogul.
Why the hell would I want David? He seems… boringly basic. Nonna is tripping.
I tap accept and close my laptop. Anything is better than nothing, and if Nonna put him on my radar, it's for a reason.
My body drags itself upstairs. I need to sleep for a week.
Or a lifetime. Whichever comes first.