Chapter 56 Episode 56
1651 Words
“It’s not just for my sake,” Xena adds. “I’m doing this for you,too. My brother will kill you if he thinks you’re interferingwith this deal.”
She makes the threat so casually that I miss it at first. As itsinks in, though, goosebumps rise on my arms. “Excuse me?”
Xena nods in confirmation. “He’ll come for you and yourentire family. He’s done it before.”
My heart clenches. Thoughts of Elise run through my mind.What the hell was I thinking? Getting involved with Nikolai,bringing Elise into this world… Stupid. So reckless.
I spent my entire life blaming my mom for putting me andElise in a dangerous environment, but then I turned around anddid the same thing.
I might be even worse.
“Here.” Xena reaches into her small red clutch and pulls out asmall envelope. She holds it out to me. “This is for you.”
I stare at it, my hands at my sides. “Is that hush money orsomething? Because I don’t want to take it. Nikolai filled mein, but I don’t know how stuff like this works. I don’t want theFBI knocking on my door because—”
“They’re plane tickets.” Xena opens the envelope and showsme what’s inside. “For you and your sister. I figured you’dwant to get back to Oklahoma City as soon as possible.” Myshock must be written all over my face, because Xena smiles.“It wasn’t hard to find where you lived.”
I mentally add “find a new apartment” to my long list of thingsto worry about in the weeks and months ahead.
“No strings attached,” Xena continues, holding the tickets outfurther. “I want you out of my life as much as I’m sure youwant to leave.”
I was already packing when Xena knocked on the door, eventhough I had no idea where I’d go or how Elise and I wouldget there. This is manna from heaven. Elise and I can get on aplane and this whole thing can be over, whether Nikolai likesit or not.
In the end, it’s not a choice. Do it for her. Do it for Elise.
I grab the tickets. “Thanks,” I mumble.
“The plane leaves in a few hours,” Xena says.
I see Nikolai’s face in my mind. His square jaw and gray eyes.His deep, gravelly voice in my ear. The way his tanned,tattooed skin looked against mine when we were lying nakedtogether, flushed with each other’s sweat.
Xena stands up, smoothing out her dress. And then, with onefinal pitying look my way, she turns and leaves.
In a daze, I walk back to the bedroom and finish packing. Eliseis still downstairs, but I’ll go get her once our bags are packed.I’ll explain everything—or as much as I can safely tell her, atleast—on the way to the airport.
I reach for the pile of art supplies on the bed. My markers andpens, the notebook I started filling only this morning when Iwoke up feeling safe and protected.
Even now, knowing everything, some traitorous part of meisn’t ready for it to be over. Deep down, I naively thought wecould work this out. That I wouldn’t have to leave.
But this is it. There’s no other way forward.
I leave the notebooks on the bed. There’s no room for anythingelse.
I have to let Nikolai Zhukova go.
Arslan drops into the barstool next to me. “Day drinkingagain?”
“It’s afternoon,” I say, pointing to the clock above the bar. Thehour hand is just barely past the twelve. “And since when doyou give a s**t about that kind of thing?”
“I don’t. I’m just surprised you’re here now since you didn’tcome out to the bar last night.”
“Are you actually surprised I didn’t?”
Arslan shrugs. “I guess not. But I hoped you would. The moodaround here has been… grim.”
He isn’t wrong, but instead of responding, I take another longdrink.
“Come on, man,” Arslan groans. “You haven’t given meanything since you’ve been back. I kept my mouth shut andgave you space—”
I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, right. ‘Space.’ You don’t know themeaning of the goddamn word.”
He’s been pestering me every day about what happened inIceland. But none of it affects the Bratva’s official plans, sothere was no reason to say anything.
“I just want to know what went down with you and Belle,” hesighs.
Hearing her name shouldn’t bother me. She was a nothing. Ablip in the radar. Entertaining while it lasted, but I have actual
responsibilities to deal with. A Bratva to run.
But it still feels like Arslan just poured cold water down myback.
“Like that,” he says, jabbing a finger in my face. “What thehell happened that has your mug looking like that?”
I swat his hand away. “We didn’t work out.”
“No shit.” I shook him a warning look, and he holds up hishands. “Trying to be a friend here. You need to purge. Get thischick out of your system.”
“She isn’t in my system,” I snap.
I’m not one to sit around and chat about feelings, but even Ihave to admit that there is something to the idea of telling thestory once and being done with it. Maybe saying it all out loudwill hammer home how stupid I was to get mixed up with myshell company’s naive little accountant.
“We had some fun,” I grumble. “You’re the one always tellingme I need to relax more.”
“You do! You need a vacation more than anyone I’ve evermet.”
“And I guess that’s what I had,” I say. “A vacation.”
“But then Xena showed up.” I grimace.
Arslan suddenly flails his arms around his chest in a frenzy.For a second, I think he’s having a seizure.
“What the hell was that?” I ask.
“You said the she-devil’s name. I was trying to bless myself,”he explains. “That was the sign of the cross.”
I arch an eyebrow. “It looked like a drunk Macarena.”
“Is there a sober Macarena? I’ve never seen one.”
I shake my head and set my glass down. The whiskey doesn’ttaste as soothing as it did a few minutes ago. “Anyway, Xenashowed up and that was that. Belle didn’t know I wasengaged.”
Arslan whistles. “s**t. That’s what you get for dating anaccountant. They’re buttoned-up types. The next numbers nerdwho’s down for a love triangle will be the first.”
“We weren’t dating. We were just… f*****g around.”
He rolls his eyes. “Right. That makes sense. You’ve been onedge for the last six weeks because this woman meant nothingto you.”
“Sarcasm does not look good on you,” I mutter.
“Then stop bullshitting me and tell me the truth,” he counters.“You cared about her.”
“f**k off. Anyway, this isn’t about her. It’s about her.”
“The She Devil,” I scowl. “Xena.”
“It’s about the fact that she felt she had any say over my life,”I continue. “And that she showed up without announcingherself. She waltzed into my hotel like she owned the place.”
“She will, one day. In a manner of speaking.”
He steers the conversation back on track. “Belle was pissed,then?”
I nod. “Pissed enough that she packed up and left that samenight. I figured I’d go talk to her in the morning and help herand her sister get home, but she was gone.”
Arslan raises his brows. “You didn’t check? That’s unlikeyou.”
“She isn’t a threat,” I say gruffly. “Wherever she is, it doesn’tmatter.”
There’s a brief pause before Arslan snorts. “I don’t believe youas far as I can throw you.”
“It means you’re a heavy motherfucker, for one.” He reachesover the bar, snags two glasses, and pours us each a shot oftequila. “And second, it means she does matter—to you.”
“No, it doesn’t. She does.”
Arslan holds his glass up for a toast. “Yeah, she does. But thebeauty of alcohol is that we can drink until nothing matters.”
“We have plans tonight, remember?” I ask even as I reach formy shot glass.
“Of course I remember.” He tosses back his shot, winces, andthen grabs the bottle again. “Even more reason to drink.”
By the time Arslan and I stroll into the Greek restaurantdowntown, we’ve gone from sober to drunk and back again.The only reason he’s standing upright is because he guzzledcoffee straight from the pot like a water buffalo.
“Can I get you two started with any drinks?” the waitress asksas we walk through the door.
I glance over her shoulder to count the number of Greeksoldiers lurking in all of the shadowy corners.
Arslan orders the same. As soon as our drinks are delivered,Giorgos spots us.
“Good luck.” Arslan pats me on the back and starts walkingaway, swaying a bit more than normal.
“Some right-hand man you are.”
He laughs and slips into conversation with a few womenstanding around the bar.
Giorgos comes at me with his hand extended. I grip it and weshake, but tension ripples between us. We haven’t seen each
other in weeks. I’ve only met with him once after I got backfrom Iceland, and it was curt and to the point.
“No. That’s tomorrow,” I tell him. “This is the rehearsaldinner.”
- Writer
