There is no shame in knowing. The shame lies in not finding out. –Russian Proverb
I WANTED ANSWERS.
But I wasn’t sure that the wives weren’t just as dangerous as their husbands. It didn’t escape my notice that Mo was cutting up slices of apple with a dagger, or that Bee had stashed a gun under the couch cushion then winked.
Trace seemed to be the most normal one. At least until she burst into tears over the tire commercial.
“First trimester.” Bee said without looking in my direction. “She’s having a rough time with those hormones.”
“How far along are you?” I inquired, trying not to stare at her rounded belly. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Twenty-two weeks.” Bee sighed. “At least I’m over the morning sickness. At this point all I want are chips. Lots and lots of chips, with extra cheese and salt. You know those ball pits on playgrounds?” I nodded. “If I could replace those with Cheetos and then just hop in and make a little Cheeto angel, my life would be complete.”
“Loves her Cheetos.” Mo smirked then offered me a slice of apple, I had to pull it from the tip of the knife, I tried to keep my fingers from shaking. Who were these people? It was like I’d stepped into an alternate universe.
I understood why we were there. Clearly, Nikolai had been close to my sister. But how close?
Nerves got the better of me, and I popped my knuckles.
“Are you okay?” Mo asked quickly looking down at my hands and frowning.
“Yeah.” I stopped cracking my knuckles and shook my head. “It’s just been a really long and confusing day.”
“Welcome to the mafia.” Trace spoke from the spot on the couch where she’d curled up and was hugging a pillow.
“My dad’s Petrov.” I felt like I needed to clear the air, I mean they probably knew that because of Andi, but still.
“You’re dad’s not Petrov.” Mo said in a bored tone. “He may have raised you, but he wasn’t your father.” It surprised me that Mo seemed to know more about my parentage than I did. Then again, I seemed to be the only one in the dark and I had no idea why complete strangers seemed to have my family biography memorized while I still didn’t even know who my real father was.
I choked back a sob, “Up until two weeks ago… he was still… semi-normal.”
“Most monsters wear disguises until they no longer need them.” Mo gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry to say that, but it’s true.”
I nodded. “Where did the guys go?”
The girls fell silent.
“Why don’t we just watch the movie?” Bee turned up the volume.
“Please?” I was desperate to know. “Is Nikolai going to be okay?”
“Hah.” Bee laughed, then sobered immediately. “Do you really know so little about the man who stares at you as if you hung the moon and stars while simultaneously dancing naked in the rain?”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks. “He doesn’t… look at me like that.”
“He does!” all three girls said in unison.
“He’ll be more than fine…” Bee answered my question. “He’s Nikolai Blazik, one of the scariest bastards to ever work for the Russian mafia, not only is he notorious for his lack of conscience, but he can make anyone believe anything by the simple snap of his fingers.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mentalist.” Bee offered. “Hypnotist… brainwasher extraordinaire… Though my money’s on alien… He’s a master manipulator. Chase wasn’t kidding about the whole jumping through fire and staying there until death. I’m not saying it would be a fair fight, five against one, but I am saying, they wouldn’t even dream of hurting him, when keeping him on our good side far outweighs the risk of having Petrov come after us.”
“But, what does this have to do with Andi?”
“Does he tell you anything?” Trace said in an agitated voice, and then yawned behind her hand. “Nikolai checks in with the bosses at least once a month… your… boss,” I didn’t miss how she made quotations in the air. “Is playing both sides… He’s pretending to still work for your father, but feeding us the information. He even drinks wine over vodka. Chase is convinced he’s going Italian.”
“Someone get him a flag,” Bee joked.
“But—” A choking sensation wrapped itself around my throat. “That’s impossible… he’s been… out of the mafia for years, he really does work all day then run a completely legitimate business.”
Raised eyebrows met my defense of him.
“Okay semi-legitimate business at night… he isn’t… I mean, he’s trying to keep me safe, from my father.”
“Right,” Trace whispered. “But who, exactly, is keeping you safe, from him?”
I didn’t have an answer.
How many times had Nikolai said the same thing?
I was beginning to think that the business proposition he’d given me had been a front, a way to lead into something more. He could hire anyone for help with research—any number of interns would be thrilled to do my day job—and would work for ten dollars an hour with a cheerful smile on their faces.
The same with the night job.
Even Jac had said as much.
So why me?
And why would he bargain with me? Why would he risk losing so much with my father? And with the Italians?
Why was I worth so damn much?
“I, uh—” I stood abruptly. “I have a headache, can I lie down somewhere?”
“Sure.” Bee stretched her arms above her head. “A room was already prepared for you two.”
A room. Singular.
“It’s at the end of the hall to the right. Your bags should already be unpacked.”
Someone had rifled through my things?
“Have a good night, Maya,” Bee whispered. “And remember, at least here, for now… you’re safe.”
“And tomorrow?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Is a new day,” she offered, not making eye contact.