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Sasha was a lot of things, but he wasn’t my guardian angel. He was supposed to be my… whatever the fuck he was. Even if he once declared his love for me in a room full of men waiting to kill us, even if he provided for every material comfort I had without question, without hesitation — it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to fix me or make me feel like the world wasn’t two seconds away from imploding. Because I was an ungrateful, selfish asshole. An epic failure. Just like my father said.
I’d lost so much in that alley. My dignity, my pride, my faith in everything. My sense of self was fucking obliterated to the point I didn’t even recognize myself when I looked in the mirror these days. I didn’t realize they’d taken Sasha from me too. No, notthatday. Not even that week. Now, months later, when I should have been fucking over it. We might have been the only two remaining, but the four of them stood between us regardless.
Heat flared in my cheeks, so intense I could feel perspiration beading on my forehead. Nausea twisted my stomach, accompanied by a sudden rush of bile up the back of my throat.
“I have to go,” I said, getting to my feet.
“Roan. Wait!”
I didn’t stop. I had to get the fuck out of there before I did end up cracking like one of those glass balls.
7
SASHA
The next morning,I picked Eduard up well before Roan’s asshole father set off for his precious bank. He wanted his car back? I’d give him his fucking car back. With pleasure.
“What the fuck?” Eduard said, climbing up into the cab of a flatbed truck. “Where’s your Mercedes?”
“Morning.” I handed him a cup of tea, blatantly ignoring his question.
He took it and settled into the seat, furrowing his brows. Stealing a glance through the back window at the heap of metal, I saw him make a weird face in my peripheral vision. “What the fuck are we doing? What is all that shit?”
“Just running a quick errand,” I replied, heading northward.
He chuckled, taking a tentative sip of his tea. “Ok. Be difficult. Will you at least tell me where the fuck we’re going with this thing?”
“Highland Park.”
He turned halfway in his seat. “Isn’t that where—”
“Yes.”
“What the fuck? That is a terrible idea! Of all the shit you’ve gotten me into over the years, this is the dumbest. He’s going to take one look at you and call the fucking cops.”
“He’s not going to call the cops.”
“How can you be so sure? We robbed his fucking bank, Sasha. We kidnapped his son. And now you want to drive up to the house in this piece of shit with a pile of scrap on the back?”
While he squawked like a hen, I fished a cigarette out of the pack I’d tossed on the dashboard. Lighting it with one hand, I flipped the lighter back on the dash, too. I exhaled a stream of smoke instead of answering.
He huffed, clearly recognizing the move for what it was. “This kid has really fucked you in the head. You know that?”
Blowing another stream of smoke out the cracked window, I sliced a glare in his direction. He hadnoidea how fucking true that was.
My gaze dropped to the hand on the steering wheel. The knuckles were scraped and bruised, along with a couple cuts from some teeth. It should have hurt, but I didn’t feel anything except a vague tightness whenever I made a fist.
After the fight with Roan, I took out my aggression on an Italian trying to edge in on Sergei’s territory. Misha told me to send a message, so I did. Happily.
We drove straight into their turf, to one of the restaurants that served as their gathering spots. It’s also where they parceled out drug shipments to their various dealers.
I booted open the front door of Fredo’s Place and made a beeline for my target. He pulled a gun from his waistband and got off one round, missing wildly in his surprise. I swatted the gun out of his hand and choke-slammed him onto the floor.
While Valery and Maxim subdued the rest of the Italians, I took their leader apart piece by piece and ran the chunks through the industrial meat grinder. Little Angelo, which was a stupid nickname considering how much fat I had to cut off, ended up in a massive container, mixed with ground beef. By tonight, he’d be in the bellies of countless people. Unless they scrapped the entire bin. Either way they were out a lot of money and a greedy underboss.
I was still seething by the time I got home. Since killing Angelo didn’t do the trick, Roan’s car was next. His father merely said he wanted it returned — I didn’t hear anything about what condition it had to be in. So fuck him. I caved in every panel I could, shattered all of the glass, and ripped off whatever wasn’t welded in place with a fucking fire axe. Then I called Anton’s cousin to finish the job for me with a cutting torch. I wasn’t in a better mood by the time I was done, but I was fucking exhausted, which was good enough.
“How is he?” Eduard’s voice softened, shocking me out of my bloody thoughts. I was surprised he even asked. Of course, heknew… but that didn’t mean we talked about Roan. Ever. Just like I didn’t discuss Eduard, or anyone at work, with Roan. As far as I was concerned, they occupied two entirely different worlds and that’s the way it was going to stay.
