I’ve been backed against a wall with a bratva leader’s hand around my throat and believed every promise in his eyes that screamed he was going to kill me.
And that makes me genuinely terrified for my brother. I can see the path Jordan is going down, and I have no idea how to stop him. I feel entirely helpless, like I’m watching two cars barreling toward each other, knowing the results will be catastrophic yet unable to stop it.
“Jordan, please?” I let my forehead rest against the closed door, willing Jordan to open. “Please. Can’t we justtalk? I just want to talk. I want to help.”
The only answer is silence.
Heaving a sigh, I turn and rest my back against the door, listening to the sounds of the house that have always meant home to me. Except now they are more of an echo of home, as though there’s a strange kind of time warp between here and Palos Verdes.
Quiet voices reach my ears, and I pad over to Katie’s room. I peek through the open door and am surprised to see Vasya sitting beside my little sister at the desk. Both are bent over her math book.
“You see? If you treat it as a whole number and round it, you can get an idea of the width and go from there.” Vasya’s finger is on a point in the book, and Katie nods vigorously. “Does that make sense?”
“Yes!”
Normally reticent with strangers, Katie turns a beaming smile on Vasya. He ruffles the kid’s hair and looks over his shoulder at me.
“Problem taken care of,” he says with a wink.
“Thanks,” I say, hoping my tone shows how grateful I am for his help. “You sure you’ve got this?”
“He has this, Eva,” Katie replies, voice thick with preteen annoyance.
Vasya chuckles and gives me a nod, then checks his watch. “I’ll finish this and be down in fifteen minutes. We should get going soon. Miss the worst of the traffic.”
My stomach clenches at the thought of leaving my family to their own devices again without me to keep everything together. But another part of me jumps with excitement, anticipation shivering at the thought of returning to Evgeny’s quiet, calm, clean estate.
And maybe, just maybe, to Evgeny.
Marco is my next target, as he keeps mentioning an issue with his professor, and I want more information. My “oldest” youngest brother is too apt to keep everything in so he doesn’t cause Dad and me more trouble.
But Dad waylays me in the shadows at the bottom of the stairs. “Evushka.”
His eyes are always gray, always serious, but something in them stops me in my tracks.
“Papa?”
“You need to come home, Evushka. Whatever you are doing, it’s not worth it. You need to come home.”
“Papa.” I try a reassuring smile and put my hand on his arm. “I’m fine. Everything is fine. I know what I’m doing.”
My father’s gray gaze shifts up the stairs and back to me. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, Evushka. Already, Jordan is finding trouble. You are not here taking care of us. This is not a good decision you’re making.”
I see the worry in his eyes, the concern he won’t speak, but I can hear it at the edges of his words.
“Papa, please. I’m doing this for us. To make sure we can keep our house and the bookstore and Marco in school.”
There won’t be any money at the end, but what’s that compared to their safety? He might seem to be thawing, but Evgeny has never taken back his unspoken promises, and I’m not about to test the Kucherovpakhan’s mettle when it comes to my family.
“End this now, Eva. I know that man upstairs.”
“You do?” My stomach flops.
“I know menlikehim. I know what he is. I know those tattoos. Do you forget I’m from Russia, too?”
He doesn’t know. Not exactly. But my father knows something. He knows my story isn’t the entire story.
“Papa, I have to do this. You don’t understand.”
