Chapter Nineteen #2
There’s a pew reserved for us near the front, right up close to the pulpit so Grandfather can better hear the Lord’s message.
I’m not entirely sure why, it’s not like he walks in the light any other day of the week and I’ve never seen him go to confession to absolve himself of his daily crimes.
Sonya, however, goes weekly even though I can’t imagine she’s doing anything particularly heinous.
Not that I’m at all aware of what my sister gets up to in her spare time.
We rarely see each other around the estate and when we do she typically ignores me or says a few chiding words before walking away.
I know why she doesn’t like me and I’ll never try to change her mind.
Especially not when she still performs sisterly acts like buying me a new tie just in case I forget my old ones.
I just wish I had more than a sister, I guess.
Just one friend would be really fucking amazing.
What feels like days later, the priest ends his sermon with the Lord’s prayer and then Grandfather and Andrei go to speak with select members of the congregation as they do every week.
Sonya disappears to confessional. I stay seated in the pew, my eyes on my leather shoes, pulling uncomfortably at my collar while I try not to squirm in my suit.
I hate wearing this thing. It’s too tight in all the wrong places and feels like roaches crawling across my skin.
Honestly, I don’t know why I even have to come.
It’s not like anyone really knows or care that I exist anyway.
Every week some old friend will come say hello to Grandfather and the first thing he does is direct attention to Sonya.
“And this is my lovely, Sonya. All grown up since the last time you saw her. Isn’t she a jewel?”
“Quite a treasure,” they’ll say and then notice me lingering to the side. “And who is this handsome young man?”
Only then will Grandfather begrudgingly gesture me forward. “My grandson,” he’ll tell them, and I’ll politely shake their hand, introduce myself and then remain a silent figure at his side. Then, when they leave, I’ll melt back into Andrei’s shadow.
Today is no different. Hello, hello old friend.
Isn’t Sonya gorgeous? Then there’s this loser I’m stuck with.
Have a lovely day. I follow along behind them until we get to the town car.
Grandfather stops me from getting in with the tip of his cane against my chest. I wince, meeting his glacier glare.
“What—”
“I have a job for you, just up the block.” I frown, glancing at Sonya. She bows her head silently. When I look at Andrei, he’s grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse. Fuck, he told him about the knife. “You want to play with big boy toys now?”
I shake my head quickly. “No, Grandfather, I—”
“I have taken my time with you because you are my blood, but you are old enough now for more responsibilities, I think.” He shoves a folded piece of paper into my hand, and then a switchblade similar to the one I stole from Andrei. “Do what is necessary. Do not come back empty handed.”
My blood turns to ice, and I swallow bile as I meet his eyes again. “Don’t disappoint me, boy.”
The door to the town car slams shut between us, pulling away and leaving me standing in the shadow of the cathedral. Quickly, I pocket the knife, my fist clenching around the paper. I already know what’s on it. A name, an address, a debt owed. A debt Grandfather wants me to settle.
“Malparido….” I curse under my breath. “Mierda…”
An older woman too close to me gasps, literally clutching her pearls and I remember I’m still standing a little too close to a church.
I apologize and quickly move down the block, out of earshot of Christ and his flock.
Checking the paper in my hand, I look up at the closest street sign.
It’s only a few blocks, but I wish I wasn’t wearing dress shoes for it.
Not that my sneakers would have been much better I guess.
At least the soles aren’t in danger of falling off these ones.
Loosening my tie, I shove my hands in my pockets, heartbeat quickening when my fingers wrap around the switchblade.
They’ve never given me a weapon before. Typically, when I have to make runs it’s with nothing but myself and whatever they need me to move.
But this job is different I suppose. Today I won’t be selling anything, I’ll be collecting on purchases previously made.
I don’t recognize the name on the paper when I glance at it again so it’s no one I’ve sold to before. Small mercies I guess.
Closing my eyes, I take a very slow breath. Okay, you can do this. You will not go home empty handed. You will do whatever it takes.
Even if it means murder?
Swallowing bile, I check the address again- then my surroundings to make sure I’m not being followed- and start the too short walk toward my mark. Because I can totally do this. I can totally do this. I can totally do this…
???
The clatter of cutlery against fine China echoes from the dining room as I enter the house. My shoes squelch against the marble floors, my hair plastered to my forehead from the rain.
I’d jacked a car- successfully this time- but to keep suspicions from the house I left it five miles up the road, in a ditch.
It’s not like I have fingerprints anyway.
Thanks to Andrei I haven’t left a trace of my existence since I was fifteen.
And I’m pretty sure none of this blood is mine?
Though, I definitely have a black eye, and my thumb may or may not be broken. At the very least it’s fractured.
The bastard put up a hell of a fight, one I was not quite ready for, but won nonetheless.
I’m not scrawny- malnourished maybe- but not scrawny.
All the calories I consume go straight to the muscles cording my arms and back.
I can see my own ribs in the mirror, but I can also crack tile with enough motivation.
Today tile just happened to be some drug addict’s face.
All for the wad of cash that I unceremoniously toss on the dining room table.
Food pauses on the way to mouths, drinks are left undrunk, and my grandfather glares at me with all the venom of a snake as the cash rolls to a stop next to his plate.
I’ll apologize to Kira later for the bloody streak it left across the polished surface.
In my periphery I recognize a handful of faces- Andrei, Sonya, a few of Grandfather’s closest associates- but I don’t dare take my eyes off him.
Not because I’m scared, but because if I do I’m going to end up with much worse than a black eye and a broken thumb.
Reaching forward, Grandfather picks up the cash, holding it out to the security guard at his back. The man takes it and begins counting. “He put up a fight?”
“Yes,” I say, obviously, gesturing to my appearance.
Grandfather picks up his Scotch, swirling the contents of his glass. “You used the knife?”
Sucking at my teeth, I begrudgingly admit under my breath, “Yes…”
“Speak up, boy!”
“Yes,” I tell him more firmly.
Andrei lets out a derisive snort and my jaw clenches. I fucking hate him. Sometimes all I want to do is wrap my hands around his throat and press until his skin turns blue and that stupid fucking smile melts from his face—
“Is he dead?”
It takes me a second to shake my reverie and realize what Grandfather is asking. My brow furrows, because, “No, of course not….”
Had he expected me to murder a defenseless man for no reason other than money?
The guy had been in shambles, probably in his fourth day of withdrawal.
He hadn’t even thought to pull a weapon on me, just run with his arms swinging.
I’d knocked him down in one punch to the face, but when I went looking for the money he came after me with a vengeance and a lot of sobbing.
Grandfather makes a noise in his throat, taking a long sip of his Scotch.
Andrei snorts again, “I told you he wouldn’t do it.
” This time I do fully look at him, glaring openly at my grandfather’s second in command.
He grins at me like a wolf, aggressively stabbing a bite of bloody steak with his fork.
“He’s just a little puppy, no bite, barely a bark. ”
The entire table erupts in quiet, chittering laughter at this, and my fingers ball into fists that make my bruised knuckles ache. Sonya, who sits closest to our grandfather- squeezed between him and some asshole in a white suit- is the only one who doesn’t.
Instead, she makes a distasteful click with her tongue. “Grandfather, this is horrible,” she scoffs and for just a moment, I think she might actually defend me. Until, “Make him go upstairs and bathe. I can’t stand to see the blood any longer.” Right, because why would she defend me?
“Of course, my darling.” Grandfather waves a hand at me dismissively. “Go. Bathe.”
“I’m hungry—”
“Go.”
Sucking at my teeth, I turn, storming from the dining room to a chorus of laughter and jokes at my expense.
Kira is standing just out of view in the hall, but I don’t want to talk to anyone.
Not about what just happened, not about what happened earlier today.
The knife Andrei gave me is still in my pocket and I close my fist around it as I take the stairs up to my landing two at a time.
I tell myself I could have done it. If there hadn’t been so many people, I could have done it.
Deep down I know that’s not true. I couldn’t actually kill someone, certainly not my own blood.
For one, Andrei would put a bullet between my eyes before I ever got close enough, and if I went for him first one of his many underlings would take me out.
But God do I wish I could. I wish I was brave enough to do all the things they expect of me, even if it’s just to prove them wrong when I finally free myself from their ridicule.