Chapter 66 Episode 66
1635 Words
Arslan hisses out a string of unintelligible curses. “Now, Iknow you’re shitting me. You walked into Giorgos’s house inthe middle of the night? After you killed two of his men? Areyou suicidal?”
He blows out a breath. “You could have called me, Nikolai.You should have called me.”
I know Arslan well enough to know there’s a lot more hewants to say. But he knows me well enough to know I’m notin the mood to hear it.
“Better late than never. What ill-advised adventure are we offon now?”
“Weren’t you just lecturing me about being reckless?”
“No. I was lecturing you about being reckless alone,” heclarifies. “You know I don’t like being left out.”
On a normal day, I might laugh. Tonight? Not a fuckingchance. “This is a solo errand. I need to know where The Lionis.”
There’s a long stretch of silence on the other end of the line,but I know Arslan is still there. I give him time to process.
“We’re talking about an actual lion, right?” he finally asks. “Azoo escapee or something?”
“Don’t f**k with me, Arslan. Not right now. I want to knowwhere he is. We need to talk.”
He lets out a low whistle. “Maybe you really are suicidal.”
“He is the last person on earth who could possibly hurt me,” Iscoff.
“That’s not what I—” He huffs out a breath. “Why putyourself through this? Tonight of all nights?”
“Do you have his location or not?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course I have it,” he says. “Are you sure youwant it?”
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure.”
“I just want to make sure you’re—”
“Still the boss?” I interrupt. “Last time I f*****g checked, Iam. Text me his location.”
I hang up and hurl my phone into the passenger seat. Themuscles in my jaw are aching from being held clenched sotight.
A minute later, my phone vibrates. The address belongs to ahalfway house twenty minutes away. I punch the address intothe GPS, but before I can set my phone down, it vibratesagain.
ARSLAN: I’m headed that way, too. I’ll steer clear, but I’llbe nearby if you need me.
I consider telling him to stay the f**k away, but then I don’tbother. Arslan can be a pain in the ass, but he’s loyal. I’ll neverfault him for that.
I make short work of the drive. The halfway house is an oldapartment building. The bricks are faded and the front stepsare cracking, but compared to where I grew up, it’s a fuckingpalace.
Strange that, now, I could buy the building he’s living inoutright. It’s a good feeling.
The night manager is reluctant to let me in. “Can’t it wait untilthe morning? Visiting hours are over.” He checks the sign onthe wall like maybe the hours might have changed when hewasn’t looking.
“Family emergency. I need to sort it out tonight. I’ll do it withyour help or I’ll bang on every door until I find him,” I saycalmly. “Your choice.”
The man can sense I mean every word. He sighs. “Who areyou looking for?”
“Ioakim.” I say his name woodenly. It’s been a long time.
“Ioakim?” His eyebrow hits the roof of his forehead.
Son of a b***h. Arslan has bad intel. He isn’t here. He bailedout of the program and is back on the streets. Or maybe healready OD’d and I didn’t know. The thought of him dyingalone in some godforsaken hospital should make me sad, but Idon’t feel anything.
The man grimaces like he smells something foul. He hitches athumb over his shoulder, pointing towards a room behind him.
“Funnily enough, he’s actually awake. I saw him go into therec room ten minutes ago.”
I turn and stomp off without bothering to reply.
The “rec room” is just a large room with chipped woodenfloors and a few card tables. Retractable basketball goals aretucked up against the ceiling, but the rims and nets aremissing.
The empty space makes it easy to spot the dark-clad figurehanging out of the partially opened window. He tips his headback and blows out a long stream of cigarette smoke. It looksghostly against the dark sky beyond.
“I thought people came to these kinds of places to get clean,” Isay.
He jerks in surprise at the sound of my voice and knocks hishead against the window frame. His mouth is pulled down in adeep frown when he turns around. Defensive, wary. Just likehe’s always been.
But when he sees me, his face splits into a grin.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my father face-to-face.Over ten years. He’s aged double-speed in that interval. Hisonce-full face is gaunt now, creased with deep wrinkles, worn
sallow with smoke. His eyes, the same pale shade as mine, aredeep-set and hooded. What’s left of his hair is thin and gray.
He looks like a stranger.
In so many ways, that’s exactly what he is.
“Nikolai,” I correct. “How’s it going?”
“Better, now that my boy is here to see me.” He crushes hiscigarette on the sill and flicks it out the window. “And I’mhere to give up the hard stuff. Compared to all that, cigarettesaren’t so bad, you know what I mean?”
He nods quickly and wrings his fingers together. “Probablybest that way. You stayed clean, then?”
“I didn’t want to end up a f**k-up like you. So yeah, I stayedclean.”
“Fair enough,” he says, pursing his lips. “I’m glad you’resober.”
“I’m not. I just know how to handle my poison of choice.”
He holds up his hands. “Again, fair enough.”
“Aren’t you going to defend yourself?” I snap. “You used tocome up with every excuse in the book. You told me it was inour DNA.”
“Not anymore. I’m giving up excuses, too. I’m trying this newthing where I own my mistakes.”
I snort. “That must take up all of your time.”
“Most of it,” he says with a humorless smile. “My therapistsays I’m her most reluctant patient. But I’m working on it.”
My grandfather would roll over in his grave if he knew his sonwas in therapy. It’s surprising enough that I arch an eyebrow.Ioakim notices.
“It’s required to keep your room here,” he explains. Hegestures around. “It’s one of the nicest places I’ve been, so I’mwilling to put up with it.”
I look around, clocking the water damage across the ceilingand the peeling paint on the walls.
“Well, maybe it’s a little worse for wear, but that’s why I likeit. I can relate,” he chuckles.
I should have asked Arslan more about what to expect. Iexpected to show up and find my father slumped over in acrack house or sleeping in a gutter somewhere.
But he’s standing up in front of me, fully clothed, and talkingcoherently. I can count on one hand the number of times allthree of those things have happened at once since Mom died.
“Did you check yourself in or did a judge toss you in kickingand screaming?” I ask.
“I put myself on a waitlist a year ago. They have a scholarshipprogram. If you get selected, you have to stay clean on yourown for three months before they let you in.”
“Barely,” he admits. “It was f*****g hell. I had the shakesunder a bridge one night so bad I damn near walked up andthrew myself off the top. If I was able to walk at all, Imight’ve done it.”
“Shame,” I snarl. “We’d all be better off.”
Hurt flashes across his face, but he shrugs it off. “I deservethat.”
“I don’t even deserve this visit,” he agrees. “I didn’t think I’dever see you again. I’d given up on the idea.”
“It’s not like you tried to reach out.”
What the f**k am I doing? I hardly even know why I’m here.Maybe to remind myself of the kind of father I don’t want tobe.
It doesn’t matter how Belle feels—I’m never going to abandonmy child the way my father left me.
Whether she likes that or not.
He shakes his head. “No. But I kept up with you. What thepapers say, anyway. You’re a businessman.”
“Just like Grandfather,” I add.
He smirks, and for a second, I’m ten years old again, staringup at my dad while he leans against the kitchen door with abeer in his hands.
He seemed so big to me then. Now, I’m taller than he is.
“I figured you’d picked up the family trade. I’m notsurprised.”
“After you were done with our family, there was nothing leftto pick up. Grandfather died, Mom died, and youdisappeared,” I growl. “I didn’t ‘pick up’ anything. I swept upthe shattered pieces you left behind and glued it all backtogether. One, by one, by one.”
“I wasn’t in charge when the Battiatos attacked,” he saysdefensively.
“No. And you refused to step up after the fact.”
“If I’d fought back, they would have killed me just like theydid your grandpa.”
“Maybe it would have been better that way. At least you couldhave died with honor instead of rotting away from the insideout in this f*****g dump.”
- Writer
