CHAPTER EIGHT
THE NEXT DAY at work, Cora tossed herself into a chair and watched as Rachel worked, finishing up a pretty little kingfisher on a client’s calf.
“So.”
Rachel gave her friend a look and then back to her client, who most definitely didn’t need the details of her sexytimes with Vic.
“This is what you get when you come into work two hours late,” Rachel muttered. “You have to wait for the juicy details now.”
Her client snickered as she took photos and texted them to her boyfriend.
“I wasn’t late. I was over at the venue dealing with some details for Walda’s upcoming show.”
Walda was Cora and Finley’s mother and a Seattle-based composer and media artist who’d been prominent since the 1980s. She took being weird to a whole new level and Cora was her official handler.
Mainly because Walda was bananapants and no one else could manage to get her to do anything. Cora was sort of the handler for pretty much everyone in her family.
Once Rachel had cleaned and wrapped the new ink and her client had left, she turned back to Cora. “Yes. It was awesome. His penis is massive and he is a master at oral.”
“Wow. That answers several of my questions. But not all.”
“Naturally. You should see him without a shirt, Cora. Like. I don’t even have the words to describe it.”
“I bet. I figured his equipment would be prodigious.”
“Yeah, that’s one way to put it. He gets the job done. Heh.”
“Did he sleep over?” Cora asked.
“No. We stayed up, watched a movie. Had more sex and then he went home at like two. He has to be up so early and everything.” She shrugged. And also she wasn’t quite ready for that.
“Twice in one night?” Cora nodded her head, approving.
“Well, if you want to get technical, three times. Because he went down on me to start the whole thing off. He’s an excellent date, lemme tell you.”
“Says you. First he made you climb up a mountain. No sex is worth that.”
“It was a hike.” Rachel seriously dug that he enjoyed the outdoors and the sorts of recreation she did like hiking and biking, and he’d promised to take her kayaking in the spring.
“You say it like that makes a difference.” Cora’s expression said she considered most outdoor activity that wasn’t reading in the backyard under a tree worth avoiding.
“There’s a difference between mountain climbing and a moderately strenuous hike. And, I need to correct you that oh yes, sex with Vicktor would be worth climbing a mountain for. He’s got stamina.”
“And a big peen.”
Rachel snorted a laugh. “That too.”
She went to check the appointment log and realized the woman approaching the front door of the shop was her mother.
“Shit.”
Cora, who’d been bent over a computer screen, snapped her head up at the alarm in Rachel’s voice.
“Isn’t she supposed to stay away from you?” Cora demanded.
“No. Only him.” She quickly ran through her options.
“I’ll handle it and tell her to go,” Cora said. “You call and warn Maybe.”
Though Rachel was touched by Cora’s loyalty, she didn’t want anyone else getting put in the line of fire from her parents. “Alexsei’s got Maybe’s back just now. I’ll deal with my mother. It’s long past time,” Rachel told her. True enough. Her father had been the one to push this whole conservatorship so hard, but as far as she could tell, their mother hadn’t done a damned thing to stop him. Worse, she was part of the legal action to take away Rachel’s freedom and chain her to their decision making.
She squared her shoulders and went to the doorway, blocking her mother’s access.
Rather than retreating back into the shop, Cora remained at Rachel’s back. “Fine. But I’m staying right here with the phone in my hand and I will call the police on her without hesitation.”
“Why are you here?” Rachel demanded.
Her mother narrowed her gaze. “Don’t you speak to me in that tone.”
Refusing to give an inch, Rachel repeated herself. “I said, what are you doing here?”
“Let’s go somewhere private,” her mother said, voice prim.
Rachel used to find some measure of comfort in her mother’s calm demeanor—certainly as a counterpoint to her father’s bluster—but now that she’d heard the whole story about how they’d blamed Maybe for the obsessive behavior of one of their adult friends who’d pretty much stalked her, Rachel found that tone irritating.
Mothers were supposed to protect their kids. They sure weren’t supposed to show preference for one child over the other to the extent it caused lasting damage. Thank goodness she and Maybe were as close as they were so their parents couldn’t bust them up.
But they’d broken something deep inside Maybe and now that Rachel knew exactly what happened, it had broken something inside her too.
“I don’t want to speak to you at all, much less in private,” Rachel said.
“You need to stop this legal business right now.” Her mother’s voice was just above a whisper. Mustn’t air our dirty laundry in public, said the woman who allowed her daughter to be shamed for being sexually harassed by an adult man. “You’re hurting your father very much.”
“I wish you’d stop all this legal business right now too. I will if you will,” Rachel said.
Her mother flinched slightly as a loud car passed on the street. “That’s different.”
“Why? Because you’re doing it to me? I don’t want any contact from him. I told him that. He didn’t respect it. Then he showed up at my house and made such a mess he can never fix it. Back up and back off. Stay in Seattle or move back to LA. I don’t care which as long as you both leave us out of it.”
Her mother’s mouth firmed up. “He’s going to fight this protection order. It’s just another example of just how sick you are. You don’t know what’s good for you right now.”
Rachel hated it when her parents used that tone with her. As if she were so fragile she would shatter. If she didn’t shatter after three weeks of torture in Price’s basement of horrors she wouldn’t let this break her.
“I am not sick. And he can fight it all he wants. But I want him out of my life. I won’t tolerate his threats anymore and I’m strong enough to protect myself and Maybe. I’ll do just that. You two started this but I’m going to finish it. And you have no one to blame but yourselves.”
Cora put a hand on her arm, reassuring her, lending support. Telling Rachel she wasn’t alone.
She wasn’t alone and she wasn’t powerless in a cage. She never would be again.
“You’re turning your back on your parents. You were raised better. Think about it. Before your ordeal you were never defiant like this. You never surrounded yourself with these types of people.” Her mother gave Cora a look before turning back to Rachel. “Your sister has let you get yourself all twisted up with a bad crowd but you have choices and we’re going to be sure you have them.”
They wanted to make everything in her life about those weeks. Only saw her as the sum of an ordeal she’d survived. She wasn’t that moment in time. It changed her, yes, but she was more than one harrowing experience.
“You want to make my choices for me. Which is pretty much the opposite of what you’re saying. Don’t talk about Maybe after what you did to her. It’s a good thing she’s got Aunt Robbie, who’s a far better mother than you ever were.”
It pleased Rachel to see her mother cringe as the strike landed, though there was a twinge of guilt too. She’d been raised to show deference and respect to her parents. It was difficult to let go of that, even when she had a good reason.
Part of her would always love her parents for what they were at one time. But the parents they were to Maybe and the way they sought to take over Rachel’s life to force her to go back to the FBI and live a life she didn’t want anymore had burned out most of what she’d felt for them.
“You weren’t this way before the incident. Surely you can admit that.”
“Before the incident I hadn’t seen you for longer than three days in over five years. I haven’t lived at home since I was eighteen. You don’t know what I was like before that. I have a different job. My life is different in a lot of ways. But I’m still Rachel. And I never would have wanted you to put me in a cage.”
“Before you were so traumatized you made good choices. Understandable choices. Now you’re self-destructive. On a bad path. The Rachel I know wouldn’t stop her parents from helping her get better.”
That Rachel, that long-ago version of herself, had faded as she’d been manacled to a wall. As she’d listened to the other women weep and scream. That Rachel had handed off to who she was now. A survivor.
And yet, that Rachel still would have realized that her mother had a professional delivery. One that made Rachel suspicious. She’d been coached by someone who was building a case against Rachel.
The flare of betrayal that soured her belly was enough to get her focused again. Her mother was attempting to manipulate her with words someone else wrote up for a desired result.
She was smarter than this.
She erected the armor of her mask once more. Cool. Calm.
Which is why she thought of Vic suddenly and realized his laid-back demeanor was a mask sometimes too.
Huh.
Before she could say anything else to her mother, Vic came around the corner and upon seeing them all standing in the doorway and who exactly she was speaking to, his expression hardened and he quickened his stride until he approached.
“You have an appointment in half an hour. Have a cup of tea and a snack in the meantime,” Cora told Rachel as she stepped forward to admit Vic into the shop but keep Rachel’s mother on the sidewalk out front.
“I made cookies,” Vic said, all his focus appearing to be on her, but Rachel knew a predator when she saw one. And Vic was very aware of where her mother stood, Cora’s protective stance and the tension in the air.
And then everything was all right. Because he was there. And Cora was there. And she was free and well.
She turned her back on her mother.
“Rachel! Don’t you dare turn your back on your mother!”
She kept walking, attention on the details that made the entirety of Vicktor Orlov so damned irresistible as he poured tea and laid out the promised cookies on a little napkin.
In the background, she heard Cora speak to her mom. “You are banned from this shop. The next time you attempt to come inside we’ll consider that trespassing and I’ll call the police.”
Her friend’s voice was flat, but firm. They were giving her mother nothing to grab on to to use as a weapon. It warmed her that Cora was protecting her in tandem with Vic.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked her as he leaned against the wall near her station. He indicated a steaming mug. “My mother sent me over. I can see her timing was spookily perfect.”
Irena had some witchy ways. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “Not now, at any rate. I have a full schedule and I need to focus on that.”
He nodded. “Later, I was headed over to Whiskey Sharp for a drink. How about we have one and unwind?”
She could think of some other ways he could help her unwind after that drink as well.
“Yes, that sounds good. I’ll meet you over there at seven thirty?”
He shook his head. “I’ll come by to get you at seven thirty and we’ll walk over together.”
“I don’t need you to escort me.”
He kept that charming smile in place. “Of course you don’t. It might come as a surprise but I enjoy being with you.”
She could have told him to fuck off and that she’d meet him there. Underline her earlier point. He’d respect it and give her the space she wanted.
But.
She liked being with him too. And it was nice that he wanted to walk with her the short distance to Whiskey Sharp.
“If we come in together, they’ll all know we’re together.”
“Yes, that will be another benefit.”
He made her laugh. Real laughter. Because he was so delightful and wonderful and apparently he was all good with the whole world knowing they were dating.
Cora cruised over. “That’s handled. Don’t give it another thought.”
“Sure. That’s going to happen.”
Cora smirked. “I know, baby. But she came to deliver his message. Like a good little lap dog.”
“He’s going to fight the order,” Rachel told Vic.
He nodded. “You figured he would. Doesn’t mean you won’t get one though. Just that he’s going to say he isn’t an asshole who terrorizes his children to get his own way.”
Rachel sighed. He was right. Cora was right. It was all going to be a mess her father created and she had to accept that while keeping him at arm’s length as long as she could.
“I need to let Maybe know about this. What if she goes over there?”
Vic’s smile flattened. “Alexsei wouldn’t allow it.”
“And let’s be honest, they don’t care about Maybe in any way except that she’s a way to get to you,” Cora said.
And it was true and hurtful and Rachel hated it. But she supposed in this instance it was a good thing.
“I’ll save it then. Tell her in person instead of calling and ruining her day. She’d only worry about me,” Rachel said before shoving a cookie into her face.
“She’s your protector. It fills her with pride to do that.”
It was super adorable that Vic understood what it meant to Maybe to keep Rachel safe instead of the other way around. No matter how uncomfortable Rachel was with it—she was the older sister after all, she should be protecting Maybe—she knew her sister loved her and took that role seriously. Especially in the aftermath of the kidnapping.
Not that it was fair that her little sister had to be her protector. Rachel hated it. But it was a complicated thing to express that and not insult Maybe. She stepped carefully because her sister meant the world to her, had been at her side through all the worst moments. Rachel never wanted to take that for granted, or to do anything that hurt Maybe if she could help it.
Then she realized Vic might have meant that as it applied to his life and the loss of his brother to substance abuse, which had been a foe no one could successfully protect Danil from.
He was always so smooth and charming that it was easy to forget the layers beneath that surface. And now that she’d seen more of those layers, they only drew her to him with more urgency.
“Hopefully it’ll keep the focus on me and not her. She doesn’t need another moment of pain from them.”
“You can’t keep her heart safe. It’s also impossible to tell your sister what to do.”
Rachel laughed at the truth of that.
“I have a client coming in a few minutes. Thanks for the tea and cookies. I’ll see you at seven thirty.”
If he stayed she’d find it harder to get anything done. He was a distraction. In a good way most of the time. But she had work to do and gawking at his butt and forearms wasn’t part of it.
Unfortunately.
She needed him to go back to his day so she could do the same and focus on something less heartbreaking than this mess with her dad.
He let her guide him to the door, smiling and waving at the other tattoo artists watching them both with unhidden curiosity. They were a close-knit group and the moment they got the chance, they’d leap on her for details.
Then he stepped into her space, crowding her, but she didn’t retreat. He dipped down to kiss her. A brief, affectionate and lovely kiss.
“See you later, sweet.”
He protected her and laid a very public claim on her at her job and she was all goofy and love struck and it felt sort of awesome.
She watched him lope off down the sidewalk, surprisingly graceful for such a big guy, and also conveniently was able to check out his butt.
When she turned, half the shop had been staring out the window at him walking away.
“What? You of all people should realize how amazing he is to watch walk down the street,” Finley told her.
“She’s totally right,” Cora said of her sister’s comments. “I think you should call your lawyer. Let her know about this. Just to keep her updated.” She pointed a stolen cookie Rachel’s way to underline her point.
“It’s a Sunday. I’ll send her a quick email.” But Rachel knew the score. Her mom hadn’t made any threats and had left. Her father hadn’t been there.
But her mother had delivered the message. Her father was going to fight to remain in Rachel’s life even though she’d gone to a judge to keep him away. And her mother was, as ever, his errand girl.
So she tapped out the note, addressed it to her attorney and deliberately decided to focus on the work.