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With that impassioned speech, he ends the call abruptly, and I glare down at the screen. Right now, the whole fucking world is pissed off at me, and I have three goddamn days to fix it.
I walk back to the cabin and collapse into the chair on the front porch. For fourteen years, I’ve been doing this shit. Running jobs for Vasily. Taking every order he shoves down my throat. And what the fuck do I have to show for it? Not a goddamn thing.
I’ve been lying to myself, dreaming that I could ever get out. I could do things differently. But that window only grows smaller every day. And now, it’s suffocating me to death.
I consider Kat and Josh. What’s best for them? It sure as fuck isn’t going back to Philly so she can hide out in my house while I go out and take care of business. I don’t want that life for them. I don’t want that life for any of us. And it occurs to me with such fucking clarity at that moment, we could do things differently. This phone in my hand—this fucking tether to Vasily—could be dropped in the nearest lake. I could pack up my family and leave here tomorrow. We could go any-fucking-where.
But even as I tell myself that, I know it’s not that easy. Vasily would hunt me like a dog until he takes his last breath. Nobody betrays him, and nobody leaves this business alive.
With a sigh, I retrieve the files on my phone and thumb through them again. Alexei has sent me everything he has on Kat. Names and addresses of anyone she might be associated with, including the foster kids she knew. But chunks of her past are still missing. Chunks she is resistant to divulge. I know Mr. George died from knife wounds, and it was determined that Joshua was the assailant, but I suspect there is much more to it than that. She feels indebted to Joshua, and her affinity for knives as a source of protection are only further proof of my suspicions. But I need to hear it from Kat. She doesn’t get that I’m not asking her to hurt her. It’s the only way I can fully protect her.
As I’m considering all the ways my life is currently imploding, my phone rings, and I’m surprised to see it’s Alexei calling. Particularly because it’s much later in Massachusetts. He wouldn’t be calling at this hour if it wasn’t urgent.
“Lyoshenka.” I pull up the screen and meet his gaze. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes.” He nods. “Everything is fine here. But I have some more information I thought you might want.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“Our mutual friend called me this evening. Misha tells me that Vasily has been sniffing around, asking several Vory members to assist him with some research. The name he delivered was, of course, Katerina Blake.”
“Christ.” My stomach churns with this new revelation. I knew Vasily was growing suspicious, but I didn’t know he was going behind my back to do his own queries into the matter.
“Do you know if he’s managed to find anything?” I ask.
“No.” Alexei shrugs. “Unfortunately, I don’t. However, Misha also told me that there were some whispers Vasily is not certain he can trust you anymore. For this reason, I thought it wise to advise you to be very careful, Levka. What you do from here on out could very well determine your fate.”
“I’m aware.” I lean back into the chair and consider the alternate plan that’s been brewing in my mind for some time now. It was always going to be my last resort. A plan not just for a rainy day, but a fucking hurricane. Betraying my uncle is something I wouldn’t have even considered two months ago, but everything changed the day I saw Kat with my son.
“Do you still have the contents of the drive?” I ask Alexei.
He nods. “For now, yes.”
“Don’t dispose of it just yet,” I inform him. “I need that for insurance. And it’s something I may require your help with.”
Alexei frowns. “You know I am loyal to my Vory brothers. You are my cousin, and you have my trust, but I must know the reasons, Levka. You cannot expect me to betray our traditions—”
“I have a son,” I cut him off, and my words produce an immediate understanding reflected back at me in Alexei’s eyes. He may be a Vor, but first and foremost, he is a father and a husband. If there is anyone who understands the values of family, it is him.
“You have a son?” he repeats.
“With Kat,” I tell him. “I didn’t know, but now I do. He’s three years old, and he’s ours.”
Alexei nods gravely and does not need further consideration than that. “Then I will do what I can to help you.”
