Chapter 22 - Janella
“Welcome to The Great Escape!” Carmen calls out sunnily. “Can I seat y—oh.”
Her breath is knocked out of her lungs, and I hear it. My head snaps up to see her face-to-face with my father.
No, is all that runs through my head. No, no, no.
This time, I don’t let it gorgonize me. I force my body into motion and cross the café in record time. I shove my body between him and Carmen.
“Car, go in the back.” The words snag on the way out.
“Hi, Nellie,” my dad says. He smiles, and for a disorienting moment, I feel twelve years old again. Watching him sweep into the café and plant a kiss on Mom’s cheek.
And then I hone in on his bloodshot eyes.
“I thought—” my hands curl into fists by my sides, “—I was pretty clear last time. You’re not welcome here.”
Ice floods my chest at the sound of his hollow laughter. “Funny thing about that…” He saunters right past me, dropping into a booth and slinging his arm over the back of it. “I thought I raised you better than this. I thought I raised you to know you don’t always get what you want, honey.”
In peripheral view, I catch movement. My heart pounds in my gums.
It’s Jin. I can see his hand moving toward his phone.
“Carmen,” I call out for her. Jin startles with a flinch at the volume. It doesn’t matter. I won’t let them be hurt because of me. “Take Jin for your lunch break. Both of you.”
Carmen stares between my father and me, dark eyes wide with alarm.
“But boss,” Carmen starts.
“Now.” My voice doesn’t crack, but something in my expression makes them move. Thank God. It’s all I do to keep myself upright, watching them grab their stuff and head for the back door. Jin looks over his shoulder like he’d like to dig him an early grave.
I finally exhale when the door shuts behind them.
Steeling myself, I face my dad. “You have sixty seconds before I call the police, Dad.”
“The police,” he repeats, letting loose an ugly chortle. His breath reeks of liquor and cigarettes. My stomach turns. “And say what, your own dad came to see you, and you were an ungrateful bitch?”
His words lash at me.
“Trespassing,” I force out.
He laughs again, right in my face. I keep my expression blank, refusing to show him how much it wounds me.
“Can you just say what you have to and go? I don’t want to have to call Iosif.” How I hate that it’s the truth. Our agreement still pings around in my head. I will not spare him, Iosif had sworn to me. And I had agreed. I’ve already broken part of my word, sending Carmen and Jin away.
“I’m not scared of that bitch,” Dad sneers. “Besides, the Yuris have their hands full these days, don’t they? How is young Nadya doing?”
The ground tilts beneath my feet.
I can’t breathe. My heart presses hard against bone. “Dad—what the hell did you do?”
He holds up his hands, like he’s just innocent. “Me? I didn’t do a thing. I was at my buddy’s house all night. If some associates found out that the baby Yuri liked to frequent a certain race? Well…” He shrugs, like it doesn’t matter to him. Nothing matters to him. “Shit happens, doesn’t it?”
My lungs forget how much space they’re allowed.
“You could have killed her.”
“Like I said,” he says, reaching out to pat my cheek. I flinch. Still, he strokes my cheek. Pat, pat, pat. “I was at my buddy’s. I can’t control other people. Hell, I can’t even control my own daughter.”
Rage twists like a knife in my belly. It hurts. “How can you be such a monster?”
“I’m not a monster,” he corrects, unhesitant. “I’m just a man in need, honey. Desperate men sometimes have to resort to desperate measures. You should understand that by now.”
“You sick—”
“Uh-uh,” he tuts, his head shaking. “You don’t want to go there, honey.
You can keep playing at this, keep being a bitch—” His hand slams down on the counter, making me jump.
My eyes burn with shameful tears. “—or you can make the smart choice. You can do right by the man who’s kept you fed and clothed all your life. ”
My nails sear crescent moons into my palms.
“I want money. Monthly payments.” I say nothing as he pulls out the pad I take orders on out of my apron. As he scrawls a figure down that leaves me gaping. “It isn’t much to assure your new family’s safety, is it? They mean enough to you to turn on your own father. This sum should be nothing.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Crazy,” he echoes. “Maybe. Do you really want to find out? Maybe I’ll go after Darya next. Or the lovely Gela?”
Words fail me. My mouth, unable to close, goes dry.
“Feel free to tell your husband. Like I said, I’m not fucking scared of him. All I need to do is make a phone call. If I go down, it won’t be alone. Remember that.”
I don’t recognize this man in front of me. This can’t be my dad. It can’t.
“In fact, why don’t you give me the first payment now? You are your mother’s daughter. I’m sure you have some nuts squirreled away.” His smile is vicious. “Come on, Nellie. Don’t make me wait.”
In a haze, I drift behind the counter. To the lockbox I keep in the bottom drawer, in a trick compartment, Mom once put away money for when Christmas came around.
He knows. For three months, I’ve been saving every penny I could. Saving to be able to buy the café outright from Iosif one day, so there was nothing transactional left between us.
That dream withers away as I hand over the stack of bills.
“Thatta girl,” Dad coos, patting my cheek again. His hand squeezes mine. Even this isn’t a gesture of affection; it’s a threat, isn’t it? “That’s not so hard, is it? You could’ve saved everyone a lot of grief if you’d just been good the first time around.”
He nods, satisfaction effusive, and his greedy hands count out the bills.
All I can do is watch.
Blood pools inside me where the shards of my broken heart fall to my stomach.
“See you next month.”
The door closes behind him with a happy jingle.
It may as well be a funeral dirge.
I run to the bathroom and drop to my knees, throwing up the contents of my stomach.
***
Stepping into the penthouse is always like stepping through a portal to me. I leave the cold outside when I step into the warmth, where the laughter is easy, and affection is unconditional. Home, I think of it now.
The first thing I see is Nadya holding court, snuggled into a throne of pillows.
She gesticulates madly with a single arm.
“—Miron’s fault!” she’s shrieking. “He tried to jump the fucking fence. That’s when his stupid pants got caught.
He wouldn’t’ve hung there if—Janella!” Nadya’s whole face lights up as soon as she sees me.
“Will you come back me up? Iosif won’t believe me. ”
“And betray the brotherhood?” Iosif objects, pelting her with popcorn from the bowl in his lap. “Reason with her, Nell.”
When his eyes meet mine, they soften. He doesn’t just see me, he sees through me. How long can I hide this from him?
“I know better than to get between you two!” I nudge a lilt to my voice, manufacturing joviality. “But it sounds like I missed a great story.”
Nadya laughs and pets the spot on her other side. “Come sit. I’ll tell it again, if you want. You look awful, though. Long day?”
“She looks beautiful,” Iosif protests, reaching behind Nadya to smooth the backs of his fingers against my cheek. The gesture is so like my father’s from before—and yet, entirely different. Iosif’s hands are those of a killer. But they are the ones who would never hurt me.
And I have to lie to him.
Guilt needles from within when I press back into his touch. The comfort it brings my soul only makes me feel worse.
“You two are gross,” Nadya gags, but when I look at her, she grins happily. Like she never got hurt at all. But she did. She got hurt, and I’m part of why.
My fault, I think, looking at the bandage peeking through the neckline of Nadya’s shirt. Because I pushed him.
“Nell?” Iosif’s hand catches at my nape, thumb tapping against my pulse point for attention. “Still with us?”
I have to blink to refocus. Summoning an apologetic smile, I nod. “Sorry. It really was a long day.”
Nadya’s, too, since she yawns before the last word is out. She’s like a sleepy kitten.
“Pain meds,” Iosif explains with a chuckle. “Let me help her to bed, and I’ll be back. You can tell me all about that day. Or we can do something to erase it.”
“I’m not an invalid!” Nadya snaps, swatting at his hands when he tries to help her up. It’s good to know it isn’t just me he’s a hardass with. He doesn’t relent with her, either. No matter her objections, he helps her down the hallway, beside her every step of the way.
By the time he returns, I’m still not ready to face him.
He drops beside me, taking Nadya’s vacated spot, and pulls me into his side. Like a habit, his lips find my temple. He breathes me in, like he’s been starving for the scent of my shampoo. Tears prick my eyes.
I burrow my face in his chest, hiding there.
“Do you want to talk about it?” His chest rumbles when he asks.
I gave money to my father to keep him from hurting our family, I think. I’m the reason Nadya could’ve died. I can’t tell you, because you’ll kill him. I hate that I can’t let you. I don’t know what to do.
I say none of it. Instead, I shake my head. “Tired,” I mumble into his shirt.
Maybe he’ll let it go. He doesn’t push, but I can almost hear the cogs in his brain turning about whether he should. He tries so hard to get it right with me. It makes me want to sob against him and let him soothe all the hurt, the way only he can.
I don’t expect him to get to his feet and scoop me right off the couch. “Wha…” My eyes bug out of my head.
“I want you in my bed tonight,” he says firmly.
“Iosif, I’m not…” I clear my throat, cheeks heating. “I’m not really in the mood for sex tonight.”
“I said nothing about sex, doll. I said I want you in my bed. I want you to sleep through the night in my arms.” Before I can argue, he adds, “And Nadya thinks we’re the picture of marital bliss. You don’t want to spoil that for her, do you?”
That is, as Nadya sometimes accuses Iosif of, a cheap shot.
And one that works.
For nothing in the world would I ever want to spoil anything for this warm, hilarious, wild sister I’ve gained.
It doesn’t matter if I know I should counter. There are plenty of holes I can blow in his argument. But I know, in my heart of hearts, that I just don’t want to. I don’t want to lie in the dark tonight, plagued by my guilt and hiding from my demons.
“Just for tonight, okay?” my mouth decides, finding the warm crook of his neck.
“We’ll see,” he drawls.
Iosif throws open his bedroom door for us, a winning smile on his lips.
For nothing in the world can I stand to lose it. To lose him.
It isn’t fair that I might.