AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Clara’s watching me quietly. “Sometimes, I wonder if things would have been different if I had a sibling,” she muses. “Mom did her best. But… I don’t think it’s the same. Not like you and Tolya.”
I wonder if things would have been different if my mother gave a damn about us. But I don’t ponder this out loud; no use delving into feelings I’ve never bothered to have.
“So you can understand my fury.” I don’t mean it as an insult; I genuinely want to know if Clara understands why I hated her so much.
I wish I understood when “hate” became a past-tense word.
“Yeah.” She sips her bourbon and looks away. “Can’t say I blame you.”
“It wasn’t just you. Tolya’s wife?—”
Her head whips around. “He’s married?”
“She left him the second he was convicted. She believed—” Now, it’s my turn to blow out a breath. “You. She believed you and she didn’t want him hurting their future children. She sat in that courtroom, took one look at you, and got the hell out of Dodge. Sent him a Dear John letter in prison basically telling him to fuck off and die.”
Even in the dim lighting of the lounge, I can see Clara’s skin pale. She swallows hard and looks at everything but me.
“I almost put a hit out on you, you know.” Again, I watch her swallow hard. Her fingers begin to tremble. But I need to her know. I don’t knowwhyI need her to know, but fuck. Here we are. “You and your father. But then Bambi came along and explained to me why committing murder against public star witnesses wouldn’t exactly help Tolya’s case.”
I mean it lightheartedly, but Clara doesn’t share my dark sense of humor.
I nudge her foot with mine so she’ll look at me. “I was a moody teenager when Tolya went to prison. One of those moods was rage. One second, all I had to do was go to school and keep my nose clean. The next, I’m sixteen years old with a fucking compound in the middle of the fucking desert filled with men with guns who needed income and a plan. Not exactly the recipe for rational decision-making.”
She finally quirks the tiniest smile. “Probably not.”
I nod and toss back still more liquor. “Bambi’s explanation helped me understand that, too. That there’s a time and place to decide things.”
“She’s quite something. How did you meet her?”
I know what she means by “something.” Bambi is a force to be reckoned with, that’s for damned sure. “I was nineteen when we started the escort service. Tolya had me recruiting beautiful young women off the streets with promises of better pay and better living conditions in exchange for their loyalty. I found Bambi working the back Strip.”
I remember not being particularly attracted to Bambi in the way other women tempted me into their beds. With her, the attraction was profoundly different. New. It was like one look at her told me she would be the best investment I’ll ever make and I couldn’t drive away until she was buckled in the backseat of my car.
Even after she called me an asshole and told me to eat my own dick.
Come to think of it, that actually made me want her on my side even more.
“She had a rough life up until then, but she was smart. She’d been turning tricks since she was fifteen to get away from her shitbag of a stepfather, pay her way through high school, and keep up appearances until she graduated. With honors.”
Clara snorts. “Somehow, I actually believe that.”
“I asked her if she wanted to become my lawyer. Paid for her education, set her up on retainer. She never looked back.”
“Unlike you.”
I know she didn’t mean that as a jab. Still works as one, though. “I might have a problem with letting things go. Especially when nothing’s actually been resolved.”
Clara concedes with a little shrug. “I guess that’s fair.”
More silence. I don’t know if I love it or hate it this time. Things are tense between us, but not in the usual, anger-filled way. More like we’re both standing at the edge of something terrifying… and wonderful.
And wondering who’s going to jump in first.
“I’m going to do whatever it takes.” Clara’s voice is suddenly firm and clear, and she looks at me with full determination in her body. “Whatever it takes to prove I’m not who you think I am. I’m not a liar, and I’m not someone who rips families apart.”
Should I tell her I’ve already started to figure that out?
No.I like where this is going.
