30. Alex
ALEX
Killing Slavik was more than just cathartic. It was a cold justice that needed to come and a debt that I was owed. Despite the constant possible threat of the police breaking up our little party, I didn’t rush it. Every minute I spent in that hallway, I spent torturing him to death.
And with the extra knowledge that if I had been even a few minutes late, he would have made good on his threat to cut my baby out of Nona, I made sure that every crime he ever threatened was received right back to him.
When I was done cutting parts off him and he was lying in a virtual sea of his own blood with rivers draining from his mouth and nose, eyes dazed as he stared up at me, he did something that surprised me.
Something that I’d have never believed a Pakhan as old as he was would ever do.
He begged me for mercy. Weak and rasping, he just repeated over and over again, please, please stop, please, please, stop.
I looked down at him in disgust, then I pulled out my gun and put a bullet in each of his knees, then another in the same, bullet-riddled shoulder before silencing him forever with a bullet to the head.
And when the light drained from his eyes, I thought only one thing. That I should have dragged him out and taken him to one of my warehouses, then spent the next week figuring out ways to torture him some more.
I’m not a fool, though. Slavik was known for being slippery. If I didn’t kill him right then in the hallway, even injured, he’d have found a way to escape and continue to cause havoc.
And that’s the bottom line, isn’t it? Take him out so he never hurts me or my family again.
I’m thinking about that hard on the drive back.
I’m still covered in his blood and one of my brigadiers is driving me back home.
He’s dead. When the cleaning people or whoever decides to show up to his apartment after tonight find what’s left of him, then the shockwave of his death will ripple through our community. Well… through his community.
And then, someone else will be chosen. That person, depending on how loyal they were to Slavik, might decide to continue his crusade. One day soon, I might be right back where I left off tonight.
Shit. Nona had it right all along, didn’t she?
I watch the rain streak the window sideways as we speed toward Manhattan. I’ve kept Nona safe tonight. What happens tomorrow?
I’d like to think that whoever replaces Slavik will take a lesson from his actions and stay on his side of this borough, but I know better. Bratva leaders always eventually want to show their people how great they are. I imagine one day, I might be the same way.
The car slows down as we hit traffic. “Sir,” my brigadier says, “I looks like we might be stuck for a while. Want me to take Eighty-fifth up?”
“No,” I say. “There’s no rush getting home.”
It’s nearly morning by the time I walk through the door.
The house is deathly quiet. As I approach my stairs, I pause, looking up at the darkness beyond. I need to shower and go to bed, then get up early and get us all back to the business that pays us.
But before all that…
I know, even without seeing the light that I know is on under my bedroom door, that she’s waiting up for me. Maybe she wants me to reassure her that she’s safe. Or maybe she just wants to be with me after everything.
As much as I want to be with her… I can’t. Not tonight. Not right now.
The car ride home was long, leaving me to my own thoughts about what comes next for us. And I know this is the part in all the stories where the hero sweeps up his bride and they make love and live happily ever after.
But I’m no one’s hero. And this story isn’t a bright and shiny tale fully of sunny days and fields of flowers. I might get the girl in the end, but at what cost?
I turn away from the stairs and head to my parlor. I think I’ll have a drink first.
Into the parlor and straight to the bar and my liquor cabinet. I make myself a vodka on the rocks, then sit down on the couch.
Hmm. It still smells like her in here. Faintly, but it’s there hanging over my head like a misting cloud. I close my eyes and lean back, remembering the last time we were in here together… and how I completely lost my senses in her arms.
I told her that I loved her and she said it back. Neither of us have said it since. I can’t say whether she meant it or not, but… but I definitely did. I open my eyes and look down at the blood soaked into my shirt sleeves. I didn’t kill a man tonight for the sake of lust.
“Alex?”
I start and look over my shoulder. Yeva stands in the doorway, wearing a black silk robe, her hair mussed from sleep. She rubs her eyes and pads into the room.
“Go back to bed,” I say to her.
“I would if you weren’t so frickin’ loud coming in.” She walks around the couch and stops, her sleepy eyes widening as she looks me over. “What the fuck happened to you?”
I take a sip from my glass. “Slavik Sokolov is dead.”
Her mouth drops open with mild shock, then she closes it sharply. “I see. How’s Nona?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her yet.”
She crosses her arms and I can feel the judgment coming off her. “Does she know?”
“Yes, of course she knows. Look, it’s been a long night. I really just want to be alone right now.”
She doesn’t move. Her cold blue eyes are moving over me, analyzing.
“What?”
She shakes her head and says, “Nothing. I just figured… Well, Nona’s probably worried about you. She came in hours ago. Looked like Hell.”
I don’t respond. I sit and drink in silence.
“Listen, I’m thinking that whatever all happened tonight, you two should probably have a conversation or something. You both seem out of sorts.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
She nods, then she takes a step to walk away.
“Yeva, do you think that there was ever a point where Dad might’ve tried to talk Mom out of being a part of all this?”
She tilts her head. “What do you mean? Like, out of not marrying him?”
I nod. “Or maybe just… leaving and finding a better life than one that might get her killed. I mean, what happened to her was fucked up, but he had to know that there would always be a threat. He used to say that you know you’re doing something right if you’ve got enemies.
He knew there were people out there looking to hurt him when Mom was killed. ”
She sighs and walks over to the arm of the couch and sits down. “I don’t know. I guess if he did, then they must have come to some agreement about it. From what I understand, Mom wasn’t in the dark about much that goes on around here.”
“She wasn’t,” I say a little somberly. “She was as much a part of this life as any of us. I just wonder if he had thought to give her the option at some point and she decided to take it… Maybe she’d still be alive.”
“Sure, but we might not be,” Yeva says. “Especially me. Despite the whole thing about being in the brotherhood for life and all, nobody’s really here who doesn’t want to be. Especially if the head guy gives them a pass to leave.”
I take that in, thinking of Nona and how she was ready to bolt when she thought I wouldn’t accept her pregnancy. Everything she said about always being in danger… There will always be somebody looking to kill one or all of us.
Yeva watches me drink for a little longer.
“Look,” she says, “Whatever you’re thinking about with you and Nona, it doesn’t mean anything until you actually talk to her. So quit sulking about it and go talk it out. That’s what married couples are supposed to do, right?”
“Thank you for your input,” I say to her as I down the remainder of my glass and get up to make another. “Now please, go back to bed.”
I hear her sigh again, then her feet as she pads out of the parlor.
When I finally do make it upstairs, she’s asleep on the bed. On top of the comforter, still in her T-shirt and blue jeans. I guess we’ll talk tomorrow…
I take off my jacket and as I set it down on the floor, she stirs. Her eyes open and she blearily looks up at me. “Alex…?”
“Yeah,” I say. I turn my back to her, taking off my bloodied shirt and tossing it in a pile with the rest of the clothes. “I’m going to take a shower and go straight to bed.”
She pauses and I hear her move around. “Is everything all right? Is he…”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. Then I pause, standing here in just my slacks, my shirt, jacket and shoes lying in a pile next to me that will be taken out and burned at first light.
She’s awake now, and it would be cruel to have this conversation in the morning.
“I think that it might be a good idea… if you left, Nona.”
She doesn’t say anything. I don’t even hear her breathing. I turn to see her staring at me, her eyes as big as saucers. “What?”
“Something you said has been on my mind. About how we’ll always be in danger. Even after Slavik was dead. Even if years go by—”
“You want me to leave you? Now? After everything we’ve been through?”
“I’m saying that you were right,” I say.
“There’s going to be someone to come along and replace Slavik, probably within the week.
And he might pick things up right where Slavik left off.
We could be doing this all over again, and while I’m happy to be your protector and your shield…
Nona, I don’t know that it’s what you and this baby deserve. ”
She just stares, her brow furrowing, her mouth pursed.
“Tonight, so many things could have gone wrong, Nona. I could have been killed. This Bratva could have been in chaos. Slavik might’ve…
” I have to stop myself there. I don’t want to think about what he could have done.
“The point is that you were right. We’re better off apart than together.
Maybe if you’re away from all this, you can raise our child differently from how we were raised. ”
She continues to stare at me, her eyes watering.
“Nona,” I say softly. “Say something.”
She looks away and wipes at her face as large, fat tears start rolling down her cheeks. “What do you want me to say? Is… is this what you really want?”
“It’s what I think is best. It wasn’t that long ago that you felt the same way—”
“Okay,” she says suddenly. She sniffles and takes a deep breath, then walks over to her bag, still unpacked after all this time, and pulls it to the bed. “Just let me get my things and I’ll find another room to sleep in.”
“You don’t have to go that far. We can sleep together tonight—”
“What for?” She utters a quick, hollow laugh. “You want me to be safe and sound and away from you. Why not start now?”
I watch her as she grabs her things, shoving them in her bag. “There’s a guest room right next to Yeva’s,” she says. “I’ll sleep in there until you figure out different arrangements.”
A deep hurt digs itself inside my chest. I don’t want her to go. I want to pull her into my arms and take it all back.
But if I did that, then what? I know this is the right decision. This is the most noble thing I could do for her and this baby. Why does it hurt so fucking much?
She zips up the bag, then pulls it off the bed. “You might as well go and take your shower,” she says. “I’ll be out of your hair by the time you get out.”
I take a step back from her as she continues to grab her things, darting into the bathroom and getting her toothbrush and the rest of her toiletries. Once she’s done, she takes all of her things and pushes the bedroom door open and leaves. It’s all I can do not to follow her.
This is the right thing to do. In a year when she’s happy and living a nice, normal life and giving our baby a proper foundation, I’ll realize that. I’ll feel better about this decision.
It is for the best.