Chapter 88
2408words
The sun is setting when he leaves. Our goodbye is brief, too brief, both of us lingering by the front door as he checks his guns under his jacket. He's counting bullets. Dutifully making sure the safety is on and that his weapons are where he wants them in easy reach. He flips them out multiple times, testing his speed before holstering again. Meticulous to his core.
Asher is going to save my mother. Last time he tried, he came back injured.
This time he could come back in a casket.
'Wait," I say, grabbing his wrist on impulse. He's cracked the door, letting crisp air that warns of a winter storm creep inside the house. It feels like a bad omen. I grip him tighter. 'Take Mila."
He shakes his head patiently, like he's already explained why he can't. 'She's still recovering."
'At least take some backup?—"
'I told you, the fewer people I bring, the better." His eyes grow big and gentle. 'Camila, I know you're nervous. But this is the best way to do this."
The best way would be to clear the air before I lose my chance.
If you die before I tell you everything ... the guilt ... the shame ...
It will drag me straight to hell.
'Why do you look so afraid?" he asks me.
In a fierce, sudden motion, I hug him as hard as possible. Not just because I ache to feel him one more time, though I do, but because I can't let him see my face. He might read through me. As much as I want to tell him the truth about Roman, the fear isn't enough to shatter the chains around my heart.
'How can I not be scared? You're heading off alone into a situation where you could die!"
'I won't," he promises into my hair, kissing my temple. 'I came back before. I will come back again. This time, with your mother at my side."
I want to believe him. It's the only reason I let him go, allowing him to slip away. Through the front window, I stare as his Escalade swerves off into the ink-washed grays of the horizon. It's darker than it should be at this time of twilight. There are no stars breaking through the dark, heavy clouds pregnant with snow. Stale air makes my skin go tight and my hair prickle and tremble. If it weren't for the yellow lamp lights perched around the house and throughout the large yard, I wouldn't be able to see a thing.
Chewing my thumbnail, I walk to one side of the foyer. The wall blocks me; I turn on my heel, going the other way. The large room has become too small. I'm suffocating as I move, feeling like an animal trapped in a cage.
Why did I let him leave? Because I need my mother safe. But what if she's not there? She has to be. What if she isn't?
No.
But if she is ... then so is Yannick ...
And Roman …
What will Asher do when my secret is exposed without warning?
'You shouldn't fret so much," Layla says, startling me. 'It's bad for the baby."
I jerk my eyes toward her. She's snuck up on me, standing by the bottom of the stairs. She's always been so good at surprising me. Maybe she should have become an assassin.
'Layla," I say, leaving it at that.
She considers me with her eyes half-lidded. 'It doesn't get easier."
I do a double take. 'What doesn't?"
'Waiting for him to come back alive."
Ripples of fetid fear work through my muscles. Clamping my hands over my stomach, I bend in two with a groan. I'm not in pain—not literal pain, at least. This sensation is a deep-rooted terror not unlike the floating sensation before a huge fall. The world below me is vanishing. The idea of Asher not being in it makes me plummet.
'Camila! What's wrong?" Layla holds my shoulders, keeping me steady. I hadn't noticed I was collapsing until she kept me from hitting the floor.
Bracing my hand on a nearby table, I push myself up on unsteady ankles. 'Layla … I … I need to tell you something, but I'm worried I can't."
Layla holds up her hand against my lips to stop me. Slowly, she gestures at my wrist and my eyes follow her hand until I'm looking at the prayer beads. Layla makes a gesture at me to look at them closely. And that's when I notice it.
There's a single bead that isn't polished wood, but lacquered plastic.
I look back at Layla, and she nods as she mouths the words, He's listening.
A bone-chilling cold seeps through my body as I stand there. I feel like I'm seeing myself from a distance. I'm a human being! You aren't supposed to track humans like this.
Has he always been listening? Or is this something new? And when did he do this?
And that's when I remember.
He took them from me after they were stained with his blood.
Hurriedly, I tear them off, and toss them across the room. But as soon as the beads leave my wrist, their missing familiar weight on my wrist nearly sends me rushing after them. It takes a remarkable amount of strength for me not to. I can't risk Asher listening in on this.
I'll put them on later.
She stares hard into my eyes. 'You've had a lot of moments like this with me lately."
She's right. I almost smile, but my anxiety is too heavy. 'Can you keep a secret from Asher?"
'I've kept a few already. What's one more?" she asks placidly.
I swallow loudly. 'This one could destroy everything."
Her fingers squeeze mine before she backs away. The hardness in her eyes and mouth makes me certain she's about to turn, escaping up the stairs. She doesn't. Lingering in a long silence, Layla tips her chin upward until she's watching me in that perceptive way of hers.
'Yes. I can."
'Are you sure?" I pry. 'It's been nearly impossible for me. He has a way of looking into my eyes like he can read my mind. I've been on the verge of spilling my guts more than once."
Layla's smile is as coy as a child hiding a frog behind her back. 'Of all the people in his circle, I'm the only one Asher can't intimidate."
I've seen the interactions she's referencing. Asher doesn't seem cowed by Layla. He allows her more leeway, more sharpness and defiance, than anyone else he faces off with. 'Why is that? Why are you the only one he can't terrify into submission?"
She dwells on my question. Lifting a hand, she brushes her sapphire earrings. 'When he was young, he lost his parents. His mother first, then his father later. Nothing insidious, just a car accident and a heart attack. Not every death is a dramatic story." She chuckles humorlessly. 'I was hired by his father as a nanny before he passed on. I'm not sure if Asher ever truly saw me as a mother figure, but our dynamic was set from the start. I spoke, he listened. That hasn't changed as he's aged."
I nod slowly. 'You stayed this whole time? Even when he was working for Yannick?"
Her chest rises and falls gently. 'Of course I stayed. He needed me more than ever then. His life was full of myriad, unpredictable dangers. I was the only constant in it. The power and money he gathered brought all kinds of people into his circle. He hired new girls to work for him here in this house." She gestures around. 'One of them was a fresh face with grand schemes. Lyubova. She wanted to be in charge. When I wouldn't step aside, she tried to set me up. She hid jewelry that belonged to Kristina in my belongings."
I gasp in horror. 'That's terrible."
'She fought to convince Asher I'd stolen from him. But he knew better. As a way of apologizing for the situation since he hired her, he gifted the jewelry to me." Her fingers return to her earrings. 'I've never owned a thing of worth. I don't spend on myself. Money is useless to me. That was the difference between Lyubova and me. She had aspirations to rise. Instead … she was put underground."
My hands clasp over my mouth. 'Asher killed her?"
Layla grimaces at me in disbelief. 'Of course not. After she failed to take over my position here, she went seeking glory with less ethical types. Yannick let her in, but he knew she was a thief. Word travels. The poor girl was killed to send a message to other thieves in his circle."
Absorbing her story, I wonder again if I can trust her with my secret. She has an immense sense of loyalty to Asher. He's taken her side on her word alone, and she on his. Would she really protect my secret from him?
But then again, she's never shown me any indication that she would ever betray me to Asher.
And at this point, I'm out of choices. If I don't tell someone about this, my heart might simply explode. 'Where can we go where no one else can overhear us?"
The snow falls around us in gentle specks. Lifting my hand, I try to catch a few. Most of the flakes dodge my hand. The ones that land bring a brief, sharp chill before melting into nothingness.
'I think it'll stick this time," Layla notes.
Brushing the flakes from my hair, I drag my foot through the grass, making little tracks of green before the white covers them again. Maybe I can make a snowman later. I can't remember the last time I did that.
Roman could be making one right now. Mom might even be helping him do it.
Layla's breath is visible in the cold. 'Camila … what is this terrible secret you're keeping from Asher?"
I flinch. This is it; time to come clean. I hope I'm doing the right thing. 'Yannick has another child. A boy of ten." I close my eyes and take a deep breath. 'His name is Roman, and he's my brother."
'Another child?" she whispers, aghast.
I nod my head over and over. 'My mother didn't even know he was alive. We found out when Yannick took us. He's been carting Roman back and forth between different locations, so the poor kid has never known peace. He's always convinced that some dark monster is hunting him from the shadows."
'A monster?" she echoes, shoulders dropping. 'You mean Asher."
'Yes. He thinks Asher will kill him—and maybe he might! Even if it's by accident while he hunts down Yannick!" Words rattle endlessly off my tongue. Now that I've begun, I can't stop. 'But even if he doesn't, even if Asher kills Yannick without hurting anyone else in the process … Nothing will stop Roman from becoming someone desperate for vengeance. Someone like Asher."
The snow around us muffles every sound, absorbing my voice like I'm in a white box. I breathe in, gasping, the chill hurting my lungs.
'And if that happens—if Roman comes after Asher—then the cycle will never end." I swipe my palms protectively over my belly, clearing snowflakes away. 'And in time, my child will pay for the sins of his or her father."
Layla stands in front of me with her lips pinched together. Her blue eyes and sapphire earrings are the only dots of colors in the changing swirls of snow. She shifts forward, grabbing me in her arms. I don't know why she's hugging me until the wind blows and I feel the tears freezing on my cheeks.
'Shh, shh," Layla shushes me. 'It's all right, devushka. It's okay."
I'm being hollowed out the way a pumpkin is before being carved. Every rasp drags raw across my throat. My bones feel empty, as if the marrow has melted. A strong wind could lift me away into the clouds, and it's a marvel that I'm somehow capable of feeling any gravity to hold me down.
'You've carried this secret for too long," she soothes me. Her palm rubs up and down my back, patting occasionally. 'Nobody should handle a burden as heavy as this alone. You're not responsible for what Yannick does … or Roman … or even Asher. They will make their own choices. Their sins, past or future, are their own."
'But their sins will leave lasting waves in their wake."
'Yes, and that is a consequence of the life that they lead." Layla cradles my face and smiles sadly. 'But if Roman is truly your brother … if he has as much of Katinka in him as you do, then hope is not lost for him. Not yet. Not by a long shot. There are things that you can control in this world, devushka, and then there are things that will forever slip out of your fingers like flowing water. Worry not about the things that you cannot control."
My nose burns, and I don't know if it's from crying or from the cold. Scrubbing my eyes, I lean against her, sinking into the support she's kind enough to give. I expected her to chide me for hiding this. Layla has always been a mix of kind but firm. She has no room for games. For her to say those reassuring words with such confidence is an immense relief.
Shivering, I lean back a bit.
'Thank you," I choke out. 'I've just been so afraid. Asher wants Yannick dead; I can't talk him out of that. But Roman …" A bitter, broken laugh leaves my dry lips to hang in the eerie silence. 'How do I tell Asher about him?"
'That's something you'll figure out in time. It doesn't have to be now. And it's too late to tell him anyway."
Over her shoulder, I look back at the way we came. Fresh snow blankets everything, erasing evidence of footprints, the house, and the world outside of this moment. Faced with nothing but my inner thoughts and Layla's calm but firm warning, I'm overcome by supreme clarity.
I will have to tell Asher everything.
That part is my responsibility. What happens after that rests on his shoulders. Not mine.
