“I’m not going to try to escape,” I say with a sigh, but I don’t have any evidence to the contrary, and we both know it.
I drain the mug of coffee and comb out my salt-crusted hair with my fingers. I have to hurry to catch up to Evgeny, who is already halfway across the lawn. He leads me down a steep, narrow pathI hadn’t noticed, taking us off the bluff to a similarly narrow strip of rocky beach.
“Not exactly a place to sunbathe, is it?”
The only response I get from Evgeny is a grunt, and then the only sounds are the waves breaking on the shore and the calls of seagulls as they glide above us. The silence stretches awkwardly until I can’t stand it anymore.
“I want you to know that what I said was the truth. I was working alone to break into your files. I did it for my family. Things are really bad right now, and I was just trying to keep us all safe and together. To help my father keep his bookstore because it means so much to him. To me, too.”
The words keep coming to cover my discomfort.
“I love books, you know. I grew up in that bookstore, reading everything I could get my hands on. When my dad chased me out, I’d go to the library. It’s part of who I am. It’s part of my father, and I know if he loses the bookstore, I will lose him. And he’s the only parent I have left, even if he isn’t the best at it. He cares in his own way.”
Words keep spilling out of me, information about my family I never meant to tell. Except that I have a small hope that if Evgeny gets to know them, understands why I did what I did, maybe he won’t harm them.
I wait for Evgeny to snap at me to shut up, to tell me he doesn’t give a shit about my family. But though he keeps stalking ahead of me, he doesn’t. Several times he even asks questions and then offers insight.
The insight is as surprising as it is helpful. But more than that, it means he’s listening while I air my rambling thoughts to protect my family.
I have no idea what to think. I’ve come to expect anger and annoyance, not this quiet consideration.
Something buzzes in my pocket, and I realize I must have left my phone in there. The battery is almost dead, but there’s a text waiting for me.Where r u? Need $. Rusian mob.
My feet slow, then stop as I stare at the screen. It takes a moment to realize it’s Jordan’s number and another to decode his garbled, typo-littered message.
Rusian mob?
Russian mob?
I know now there are several bratva in L.A. Is my brother in debt to one of them? Could it possibly be the Kucherovs? Was that why he was at Dmitri’s club?
“Are you coming?”
I jump when I realize Evgeny is standing right in front of me, and I shove the phone back into my pocket. “It’s fine.”
His mouth twists at the odd answer, and I realize it wasn’t what he asked.
“Yes. Fine. I’m coming. Sorry.”
He turns and starts off down the beach again. I jog to catch up, wondering if my brother really is in deep with the Russian mob. A more troubling thought creeps in. What if the man ahead of me is the one he has to answer to?
12
EVGENY
Dmitri knew what happened in the gym. Hearing the mirror crash, he’d come running, straight into a disheveled and distraught Eva as she tugged her sweater over her head before storming out. The last puzzle piece had fallen into place for him when he’d walked in on me, barely dressed, my hair in complete disarray.
Good second that he was, Dmitri didn’t say a thing in the moment, instead making a call to get the big mirror cleaned up and replaced.
He waited until I was climbing the walls after another sleepless night, trying to outrun dreams of Eva. He suggested a run and, along the way, did nothing but toss pointed comments, building to Vasya’s apparent interest in her. I went after him like we were boys in school, knocking him flat until we were wrestling in the rocky beach sand.
If either of us had any last, lingering doubts about my growing feelings for Eva, no matter how much I wanted to deny them, the fight had banished them all.
The run back had been silent.
And then I’d found Eva curled on a chaise lounge outside, asleep under a blanket. I’d stood there, staring at the woman who had looked at me unflinchingly, put her hand to the scars others found so horrifying, and had stayed.
Not only had she stayed, but she had taken me on wholeheartedly.
