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Vadik shakes his head. “Your father was alone.”
“Can we stop by Victoria’s place then? On the way back to the compound?” I ask.
“Of course, darlin’,” Vadik says, kissing my forehead.
* * *
“Why are you taking some of Dad’s things?” Evie asks. “Did something happen to him… in the fire?”
I hate to lie, but I can’t talk about Pops right now.
“We… don’t know yet. But we will soon.”
That seems to satisfy her, and she throws a small duffel in Kir’s trunk. I notice she also has the teddy bear from her nightstand, a long-ago gift from our mother.
“We’re swinging by Vic’s to see if she’s home, Evie. Then we’ll go back to the compound.”
She nods distractedly, scrolling through TikTok like a comforting security blanket.
“Hello?” I call, slowly entering Victoria’s apartment after the guys clear it.
“It’s so dark. And empty,” Evie says, holding onto the side of my shirt.
I flick on a light and it’s obvious someone has moved out, and moved out fast. There is crap all over the place, as if Victoria went through her things and selected only the items she couldn’t live without. Drawers are pulled from dressers, clothes are strewn all over, the closet is full of empty hangers, and even the pillows are missing from her unmade bed.
I guess if I was taking off, I’d take my pillow too.
I wander to the kitchen and see cabinet doors hanging open, some empty and some full, most likely because Victoria had to be selective about what she brought on her journey. There’s a cold cup of tea on the counter with a tea bag still in it, as if Victoria was making herself a cup and was interrupted.
Interrupted by what? How much does she know? Is her life in danger?
A lump grows in my throat and I realize how tired I am of crying, how the grief never seems to stop coming, and how the universe just won’t give me a goddamn break.
I’m tired. So tired. Of it all.
“C’mon, Charleigh. It’s obvious she’s not here. She left in a hurry. Okay?” Kir asks, rubbing my back.
I take one last look around at this place that’s not unlike my father’s—shabby but well-loved furniture, a few trinkets acquired over the years, and the sense of someone who’s inhabited a place for a very long time.
She must have been scared shitless to leave the way she did.
Before we head out, I run back to her room. I want something of hers, anything, something small. I spot her fluffy bedroom slippers and pull them to my chest like they’re some great treasure or something. Some people might think my choice creepy, but I am comforted by holding something so clearly Victoria’s.
I have so many questions tumbling around in my head, not to mention the need to somehow break the news to Evie about our father, but I just want to get back to the compound because it’s the only place where I feel a modicum of safety. The only thing that could make me feel safer, aside from Dimitri being buried six feet under, is if I could carry a weapon like the guys do. In fact, before we left to collect my sister, I ran to the gun cabinet, which was locked, of course. I’ve been practicing my shooting and plan to show the guys my new expertise first chance I get. If they let me.
But that’s no guarantee they’ll finally grant me the privilege of having a firearm. As Niko tried to explain, I might have gained the physical skills to use a gun, but I am a long way from having the emotional skills. He has a point.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not impatient.
I know they want to see me more in control, more level-headed before I carry a gun, but with the rage bubbling over inside me, I am not convinced that will ever happen. And if Dimitri is behind my father’s death, well, that might just push me over an edge that I’m already precariously close to.
I mean, how much does one person have to fucking take before they crack?
* * *
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Kir
