Chapter Thirty-Six - KATYA
I get to the building behind Shrike Bikes ten minutes late because of my unplanned stop at home. But as soon as I approach the door, it opens, and Ariel is standing there looking pretty pissed off.
“Nice of you to join us,” she snaps as she lets me pass and then locks the doors behind us.
I wait as she does that, then follow her through a sheet of construction plastic and down a hall. “What is this place?” I ask, looking ahead at the large room. It’s got lanes, or aisles, marked out with some kind of track on the ceiling. “A bowling alley?”
Ariel snorts. “A shooting range.”
“Really?” I look around as we come to another piece of construction plastic. Ariel pushes her way through, then me. And on the other side is a small office with a dingy round table. All the other girls are either sitting or standing, drinking coffee.
“There she is,” Cindy says. “Hey, Katya. How’s—” She stops talking to look me over more carefully. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
I nod. “Yes. Something happened. Or is happening. I’m not sure. But these Antimony girls. You guys, it’s not good. I’ve spent the last four years working towards this moment confident that I was onto them and they were not on to me. But—”
“What?” Ivy says, setting down her cup and coming over to me. “Slow down, OK? What’s going on? Who are you talking about?”
“The Silver Society,” I whisper, looking around for cameras and anything that might hide a microphone. “They’re on to me, you guys. I thought we had the perfect plan, but no. They’ve been one step ahead this whole time. I know it. I feel it in my bones.”
Every one of them—Ariel, Cindy, Ivy, Victoria, and Ellie—is looking at each other with stunned expressions.
“What?” I ask. “You know what I’m talking about. Mariel told me you all knew.”
“Mariel,” Cindy says. “You know Mariel?”
“We’re been working together ever since I left Fort Collins and went back to Gori. We’ve been planning this, you guys.”
“I think you need to start from the beginning,” Victoria says, pulling out a chair at the table for me. “And God help you, Katya Kalashova, if you lie to us—”
“You’ll what?” I ask, not liking her implied threat.
“Never mind that,” Ellie says. “Just sit down, Katya. Start from the beginning and tell us what’s happening. What’s got you so scared. Because it’s written all over your face.”
“I’m not scared,” I say, accepting the offer of a chair. I look at each of them, one by one. “I’m terrified.”
Cindy is sitting next to me. She reaches for my hand and gives it a pat. “It’s OK,” she says. “We’re here. And if you’re on Oliver’s side, we’re on your side.” She looks up at the others. “Right, girls?”
They nod, all except Ariel and Victoria.
“Ariel,” Cindy snaps. “We have nothing, OK? She seems to know everything. So you need to be supportive.”
But Ariel doesn’t answer. Victoria does. “Does this have to do with…” She hesitates. “With our shared past?”
I nod.
Victoria lets out a deep breath. “OK. I’m in then. If you need help, I’m in.”
We all look at Ariel, who seems ready to object. But when she looks at Tori, her expression softens. She trusts her, and if Victoria trusts me, then…
“OK,” Ariel says. “But you had better tell us everything. If anyone I care about gets hurt, Katya Kalashova, and I do mean anyone,” she stresses, “I will make sure you take responsibility for it.”
It’s definitely a threat. It could mean legal responsibility. Or something more sinister, like retribution from her and her town filled with family and friends.
So I start from the beginning.
Once upon a time there were two little girls named Katya and Lily. Both born into the Russian mafia. And by no fault of their own, they were beautiful, golden girls everyone fell in love with. They were smart, and pretty, and spoiled rotten by the Bratva.
Katya, the older girl by four years, went to her eleventh birthday party dressed like a snow princess. Something out of Swan Lake. She was delicate, and graceful, and expecting to come home with presents and a belly filled with cake.
But instead of a party there was a meeting between two rival families. Hers, the Bratva, light-haired and blue-eyed. Covered in tattoos that told stories no child should ever have to hear.
And his, the dark mafia. Wearing suits and carrying big guns.
She felt like Little Red Riding Hood the moment when she figured out her dear, old grandmother was really a wolf with snapping teeth covered in sticky saliva.
She was not there to receive gifts.
She was the gift.
The promise.
The glue that would seal these two opposite sides of the family together for another generation.
“Gori cut my throat that night with the scalpel. It was supposed to be a symbol of the Silver Society. One thin, silver line across my neck. Done in good faith. I wasn’t supposed to fight. They didn’t think I had it in me to fight, I was such an agreeable child.”
“He’s Silver Society?” Victoria asks, her lips turned up with what might be disgust. Or maybe disbelief.
“No,” I say. “Not really. If you know anything about them, then you know it’s run by women.”
“So who’s the leader?” Victoria and Ariel ask at the same time.
“I don’t know,” I say. “There were no women there that night. Just the men.”
“Then what good are you?” Ariel asks. “We need to know who runs it, Katya. Surely you must have an idea?”
“Oh, I have an idea, all right.” And then I look right at Cindy. “But you’re not gonna want to hear it. Because I think it’s your future mother-in-law.”
I take out my secret phone and press the call button.
A direct private line to Mariel Hawthorne.