27
I WENT BACK TO SCHOOL the following week as Luka had asked me to, and he’d been right. The normalcy helped to combat the unfamiliar life I’d been thrust into. I spent my days in class trying to catch up, and at night he helped distract me during the difficult first few weeks.
There were setbacks.
One night, the realization that my great-grandmother’s crystal bowl had been destroyed had sent me into a deep depression. The only photos I had of my family were what I’d saved in my phone or online, so Luka reached out to my extended family and Jonathon’s school to try to get me copies of everything possible.
And there were days when I had to remind myself they were really gone. Jonathon wouldn’t graduate from high school. My parents wouldn’t be there to see me walk across a stage and receive my college degree. Sometimes the pain was so acute I couldn’t breathe, and I begged Luka to give me a different type of pain.
Which he did.
Other days, I coped. I survived by leaning on him. He arranged for a team to shift through the wreckage of my house and bring us whatever might be of value to me, sentimental or otherwise.
It was an early Saturday morning when a knock on our bedroom door roused Luka and me awake.
“Addison,” Vasilije said.
I glanced at Luka with sleepy eyes. Vasilije and I hadn’t said much toward each other since I returned to the house. He’d given me a sincere apology about the incident before I’d left, and then a heartfelt condolence, but most of the time I didn’t see him. He was hardly ever home. So why was he asking for me and not his brother?
“Yes?”
“Can you come downstairs?” His voice was loud so I could hear through the door. “My father needs a word.”
It was barely light outside, and his father was here? I froze as panic pumped through my veins. Luka’s expression mirrored my suspicion, and we both climbed out of bed, pulling on clothes. “Yeah, just a second.”
We trailed behind Vasilije down the stairs to the first floor, but he kept moving. It wasn’t until he reached for the basement door that Luka’s warm hand wrapped around my arm and jerked me to a stop.
“Wait a minute, what’s going on?” His voice was uncharacteristically tight. Luka was nervous?
Vasilije’s expression was stoic. “Dad’s downstairs.”
“No. We’re not going down there.”
His brother’s eyebrow rose. “Dad didn’t say shit about you. He needs to talk to her.”
“No,” Luka repeated, firm. He glared at his younger brother.
Vasilije’s face soured. “Jesus, calm down. I promise, he just wants to talk to her. And he wasn’t asking Addison to come down, he’s telling her.”
I’d never had a reason to go into the basement. It was unfinished storage, or so I’d been told, and I worried about discovering something down there I didn’t want to find. Luka’s tension confirmed my suspicion. Whatever was downstairs was related to the Markovics’ true business. But I needed to know, didn’t I? I nodded, signaling I’d go.
Luka seemed unsettled as he turned the doorknob and motioned for Vasilije to lead the way. He filed down the stairs next, taking my hand in his, so he could enter the basement first.
The stairs were bare wood, and the stone colored walls and poor lighting made the stairwell feel like a cave. It wasn’t much better when we reached the bottom. It was windowless. Pipes snaked overhead and the cement floor sloped gently toward a drain at the center of the room.
I could smell the metallic scent of blood before I spotted it.
Dimitrije Markovic stood in slacks and a white dress shirt with the sleeves haphazardly rolled back, and red spots dotted his bare forearms and shirt front. The blood came from the crumpled heap of a man lying on the floor. Nearby, a bloody metal baseball bat leaned upright against the wall.
My grip on Luka tightened as my body went on red alert. Had Dimitrije brought me down here to help this man, knowing I wanted to become a doctor? His gaze spotted me beside Luka, and in contrast to the first time I’d seen him, Luka’s father seemed pleased to see me beside his son.
The man on the floor groaned with agony, and Dimitrije glanced down. Disgust swept over his face. “Maybe I should burn you alive, like you did to this poor girl’s family.”
My knees threatened to give out.
Holy shit, was what Dimitrije said true? Was the man lying at his feet responsible for the fire? The police hadn’t found the source of ignition or any evidence, but ruled the fire as starting under suspicious circumstances. I’d had to lie when they’d questioned me, asking if I knew of anyone that could have been involved, and it was the only time Luka hadn’t been by my side when dealing with my family’s death.
“What you don’t realize,” Dimitrije said, continuing to talk to the puddle of flesh moaning on the ground, “is this girl is my son’s.” His powerful tone was absolute. “It makes her part of my family, and I put my family above anything else. You’ve started a fucking war.”
The man rolled onto his back and gazed up at the ceiling while he tried to pull his puffy, mangled face into a grotesque smile. “Good,” he croaked. He laughed, but it was cut short when he coughed and a mouthful of blood erupted from him.
“Ivan?” Luka asked. His gaze swung from the man up to find his father, who confirmed it with a grim nod. “Why?”
“Because it was an easy first strike,” Dimitrije answered. “They want us to retaliate. They thought we’d be too focused on that to notice they were moving a huge shipment over in Cicero.” His mouth lifted in an evil smile. “We let it happen. I had someone slip a welcoming present inside.”
Ivan coughed, giving a sharp noise of surprise.
Dimitrije put his foot in the injured man’s chest. “Who’s going to be there when that crate’s opened, huh? I heard the boss is in town.”
“Changes nothing,” Ivan choked out. “The Russians have more. More men and more guns. More power.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Dimitrije kicked him in the ribs, forcing him to roll away from the blow. He gurgled blood and drooled it on the cement. I shuffled backward. It wasn’t the sight of blood or Ivan’s traumatized face that made my stomach turn. I was unaccustomed to violence.
“Addison.” My name on Dimitrije’s lips was a command for attention I knew I had to obey, but it was nearly impossible. “I didn’t trust you when Luka brought you into my home, but you’ve proven your commitment to him. To my family.”
My blood moved as slush through my veins. It was becoming clear why Dimitrije wanted to speak to me.
“This piece of shit took your family, and I brought him here to give you retribution.”
Oxygen was leaking from the room, and I couldn’t catch my breath. Luka stared at Ivan, and it looked like he was barely holding back his rage. Beyond him, Vasilije watched the scene with fascination and a sick gleam. And then my gaze returned to meet Dimitrije’s. His bloodstained shirt was scary, but his black eyes were horrifying.
“You want a gun?” I wasn’t sure who Vasilije was talking to at first, but it became apparent it was me.
Did I?
I peered at the battered man on the floor and a voice inside me answered back yes. My family had died a horrible death, and Ivan’s life for theirs didn’t even balance. Warm, sickly rage roiled in my belly and rose in my throat. What would I feel like with a gun in my hand? How powerful had I become now I’d been given the choice about this man’s fate?
Luka’s hand let go of mine, but it was so he could wrap it around my waist and pull me tightly against him, offering his support. Telling me he was okay with whatever I decided.
The blackest, evilest part of me wanted Ivan dead, but . . . I couldn’t.
I was going to be a doctor and save lives. How could I go on to do that if I committed this dark deed? The rest of my life I’d be atoning for it.
“No,” I whispered.
Vasilije’s gaze crept to Luka. “What about you?”
Since I was clinging to him, I could feel the tension and fury in his body, all the way to his foundation.
“No,” I said again, this time louder. I gazed up at Luka, hoping he could read everything I was feeling, because I couldn’t find the words. He hadn’t crossed the line into total darkness yet and I didn’t want him to. If he did this, he might never come back. I’d already lost everything. Please, I silently pleaded, don’t make me lose you, too.
His expression didn’t change, yet I could sense he understood. “No,” he said, affirming what I wanted.
Vasilije stared at us like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Finally, he sighed loudly and glanced back to his father. “You want to finish with the bat? It’s making a big fucking mess.”
“Please.” I tried not to whimper, and failed. “I can’t . . . Don’t do this. If you send him back to his people, what happens?” Could Ivan tell them about the bomb and avoid the war he promised was coming?
Dimitrije’s cold stare said there was no chance of this man leaving the basement alive. Perhaps Dimitrije was eager to go to battle with his enemies. I stood paralyzed as he reached over and curled his fingers around the grip of the bat. My heart pounded in my chest and threatened to explode as he stalked toward Ivan, dragging the weapon noisily across the ground, his eyes brimming with violence. Oh, God. Oh, God!
Luka yanked me, shoving me face first into his chest, hiding my eyes from what was about to happen as his arms locked around me. He held on tightly as the sound of the bat whooshed through the air, followed by a disgusting thump and crunch of bones.
The gurgling announced the blow wasn’t fatal.
I balled my hands in Luka’s shirt as I shook violently, barely able to stand. I sank as deep into his arms as possible, wanting to retreat inside him when another blow rang out. This one had more force to it from the sound of metal striking something more solid than just body alone.
The gurgling stopped.
For a long moment, it was silent in the basement, other than the water heater humming in the background. Luka had watched it happen, and some of the tension eased from him, but what the hell did we do now?
“Luka.” Dimitrije’s tone was full of disappointment. “You’ll stand by and let it happen, but you can’t do it yourself?”
Luka’s chest lifted in a deep breath. “Turns out, I’m a lot like you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” The metal bat was tossed down, where it clattered and rolled loudly on the floor, making me flinch. “Did you have your goddamn eyes shut?”
“I’m talking about my mother.”
I shifted in Luka’s arms and made sure to keep my gaze up off of the floor, not wanting to see the result of his father’s work.
Dimitrije didn’t appear quite as distinguished when he looked guilty. His voice was grim. “That was different.”
“What?” Vasilije took a step closer, and his confused gaze went from Luka to his father.
There was a wordless exchange between the two older Markovics. Dimitrije’s expression softened with the realization Luka knew what had really happened the night of the storm so many years ago.
“Your mother threatened to go to the authorities. There wasn’t anything I could do.”
Luka’s shoulders pulled back. “Not anything you could do? How about not screwing the whore in your own bed? You wanted to get caught.”
“Someone explain right now,” Vasilije demanded. “What’d you mean—”
“You’re goddamn right, I wanted to get caught!” Dimitrije roared. “She needed to feel the same way I did when I found out she’d been fucking someone else.”
As Dimitrije became angrier, Luka seemed to grow calmer. His expression was erased, and faded into the emotionless mask. His disguise for hiding emotion. “You mean David,” he said, his tone flat, “your brother’s bodyguard. I guess you were allowed to fuck whoever you wanted, but not her?”
Dimitrije’s jaw fell open. “How—”
“You think I couldn’t hear you two shouting at each other?” Luka’s focus went to his younger brother. “She said she was leaving him for good. So Dad called Uncle Goran and told him she was going to the cops.”
Vasilije may not have been as smart as his older brother, but he wasn’t stupid, either. His head snapped toward his father. We watched hatred develop slowly, layer by layer.
“You . . . had her killed?”
Heartbreak was a visible reaction in Vasilije. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and his spine snapped straight, like enduring an enormous pain.
“She wasn’t loyal.” Dimitrije puffed up his chest, as if offended he had to explain himself. “After David told me what they’d done, I couldn’t trust her anymore.”
“Except David was lying,” Luka said. “Did you ever consider she was screaming the truth at you?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The air in the room had gone frigid, and Luka’s icy tone matched. “I know a lot more than you. David’s confession was coerced. He’d done it on your brother’s orders.”
“What? I’m not going to listen to this bullshit.” Dimitrije waved a dismissive hand, but it was clear Luka had planted the seeds of doubt in his father.
“Yeah, you are.” The distinct sound of metal clicking drew all of our attention. Vasilije had drawn a gun, and held it trained on his father.
Luka looked unfazed. The room had gone so cold, I expected my breath to be visible. Was this part of his plan? He hadn’t been able to pull the trigger on his father, but he suspected Vasilije would. Anarchy raced in the youngest Markovic’s eyes.
“Goran never liked our mother,” Luka said quietly. “He was convinced she’d turn on the family when she found out how Dad couldn’t keep it in his pants, so he orchestrated the whole thing. After, he bragged about it to his sons.” He cast a final look at his father and his voice was damning. “You had her killed for something she didn’t even do. So, which one of you was disloyal?”
“Jesus,” Vasilije whispered.
Color drained from his father’s face. His hesitant gaze turned to his youngest son. “Vasilije—”
The gun went off, and the side of Dimitrije’s head exploded in a bloody burst.