Leaving was the most constructive way of handling things and frankly, it was the easiest decision to make because the desire to do so was already being fueled by my instincts.
There isn’t anyone I can trust, though. No one beyond my cousin.
The simple fact that he doesn’t share blood with my father was enough for me to know that, but we’ve maintained a relatively secret relationship over the years and that’s another reason I know I can trust him. It’s how I know I’ll be safe hiding out with him. If he wanted to fuck me over to get back at Boris for killing his parents, he could have done it when we were children. He could have done it then, and he’s had beyond ample opportunities to do it since.
Alexei hasn’t. I don’t think the thought ever crossed his mind, not even for a second.
I’m sure I owe some of that to my grandparents.
If it wasn’t for them making sure he knew why it happened, X could have killed me and the rest of my family years ago and it would have been justified in his, or anyone else’s, eyes.
Then again, my cousin doesn’t really operate that way.
Don’t get me wrong, the fucker is as cold and callus as they come, and he’ll put a bullet between someone’s eyes just as quickly as he’d shake their hand. But Alexei Pushkin is also a goddamn cinnamon roll in some ways, comparatively speaking, and that makes him even more dangerous if you ask me.
No one thinks the teddy bear has claws, but that’s how he gets them. The false sense of security, the charming smile and boisterous laugh. All part of the deception, genuine or not, and once your guard is down, that’s when the claws come out.
I’ve seen it firsthand.
My cousin is a huge, unhinged teddy bear.
I’m just glad he’s on my side.
Especially right now because he’s theonlyone on my side after what I found out.
Coming here still might have been a mistake.
The problem is, I had nowhere else to go, not unless I wanted my location to get back to my father immediately. This seemed like the smartest option, it was definitely my best one, and something is telling me I’m supposed to be here.
In Minneapolis, not necessarily the strip joint.
When X gave me the address I wasn’t really surprised, but when I got in here and saw the operation, I was. Even more so when I found out he’s in some sort of partnership with a faction of the Irish mob.
Who would have thought both would be thriving in goddamn Minnesota? I’m just waiting for the Cosa Nostra and Los Zetas to show up and round things out.
With a shake of my head, I stare down into my glass for a second, swirling the clear liquid as I lift a hand and rub the center of my chest.
I am so goddamn fucked it’s not even funny.
When my father inevitably finds me, he is going to do everything in his power to destroy me, then erase me from our family history.
The bullshit I saw, what I heard on those tapes, it’s enough to get a lot of people in trouble but after what happened, he’s only going to hear my name. My name, and my alleged plans, and the truth won’t matter. Not even from me.
Something else I know firsthand.
Family means everything and nothing at the same time, and there is no in between. There’s no reasoning with someone like Boris. Whatever narrative he concocts, whatever story he firmly believes,thatis the truth and nothing will change it. It’s that line of delusional thinking that’s ruined my life twice now, and it’s the same one that will most likely end it.
I knock back my drink and set the glass on the table, scanning the room briefly before I decide I need to take a leak.
The auction doesn’t start for another two hours but the basement of Knotted Obsessions is already packed.
I have no idea how Alexei got hooked up with Ransom Adder but that business move has proven to be very lucrative for both parties.
The strip and sex club upstairs benefit the Irish brothers, but it’s the only legit thing happening on this property. Knotted Obsessions was something they started years ago, apparently as a way for their dads to run drugs and guns without getting on anyone’s radar, and when my extended family came to town, they expanded.
My maternal grandfather used to head our Bratva and when my parents bonded, he passed it down to my father. He let Borisrun the show, successfully I might add, and retired in his late fifties. Then he buried both of his daughters and one son-in-law in his early sixties because my old man is a paranoid and jealous piece of shit on top of being ruthless and twisted. He thought my mother was having an affair with one of Alexei’s dads, his mom knew about it, and all three of them were stealing money so they could run off together.
I never understood how he got to that line of thinking, but knowing what I do about the shit from a year and a half ago, I can see there’s no reasoning behind it. There is no understanding what he does or why. More of thehe believes his own narrativeshit.
