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Kostya is as flabbergasted as I was. He had no idea about Artom, but as he reminds me, he’s rarely farther than the apartment he lives in across the street.
Benedetti isn’t surprised Ana has a kid, only that I’m calling at three in the morning to ask about Tony’s sister when I’ve never shown interest in his personal life before.
“Lacey?” she says between yawns. “Haven’t seen her in years. She moved while I was in college.”
The ATF training program, but I don’t point out her lie. I’m keeping enough from her.
“Tony’s got a picture of them, Lacey and her son. No idea who the dad is, but the little guy must take after him.”
“You know his name, by any chance?”
“Nah, I don’t ask about her. Best I can tell, she got out, you know? Let sleeping dogs lie.”
“Right, right. Where’d she get out to?”
“Vasily,” Benedetti intones warningly. “You leave Lacey Lombardo alone. She’s a good girl. She doesn’t need your trouble.”
Maybe not, but Ana Baranov needs me, regardless of the trouble I bring. And now that I’ve got a full network working on tracking down Artom, I can at least take Ana to meet her friend. Hopefully, she won’t mind that we’re going to be returning to our unit with a plus one. I want Alex to stay at least the night with us. I know it’ll just add more problems to the mounting shitpile of problems, but the flip side of that is at this point, what’s one more problem?
“Weird that we’re meeting her on the rooftop, though,” Ana mutters as we make our way up to the roof.
I should have made Angelo convince Gino to meet me at a restaurant or something. But hell, Ana’s memory is coming back one way or another. This morning, she woke up, looked me dead in the eye, and said, “Pierogi is your favorite food.” She’s not remembered any events, far as I can tell, but facts are coming back.
Potentially facts like a rooftop with a helicopter was the site of our undoing.
A bout of nerves hits me as we reach the door to the roof, but I don’t want to let Ana go to retrieve my pills. It’s stressful enough not being able to guard Ana on both sides. I open the door and look to the helipad, the sun directly over it.
I shield my eyes in an attempt to get a better view of the chopper, but the sun is too low in the sky to see anything except white. I reach back and take Ana by the shoulders, locking her in.I have this feeling like everything is about to go wrong, but as long as Ana is right here, it’s going to be fine.
As we near the helicopter, it begins to blot the sun. My vision’s still blotchy as fuck, though, no sight for me for a few more seconds.
And because the chopper is quieting down, we both hear, with perfect clarity, a tiny, squeaky voice yell, “Mommy!”
I nearly trip over my own feet with the way my legs come to a halt beneath me. In the same breath, Ana freezes for a blink but then pulls away from me, sprinting ahead, her footfalls quiet enough in her soft-soled shoes that I can hear the clomp of palm-sized sneakers rushing toward us.
In a blink, the conversation with Angelo fast forwards through my brain. What did he say? Did he actually use Alex’s name? Give an age? Mention the Bratva or any personal details?
Your boy.That was all he said.Gino has your boy.
It’s not Alex being returned today. That disappearance hasn’t been solved. But this is—
“Artom?” Ana cries out. My sight is still fucked, dark blots against glowing backdrops, but I see her silhouette fall to her knees and stretch her arms wide as a waist-high silhouette lunges toward her. “Oh my goodness, Artom, I missed you so much!”
“Mommy, I was really scared,” the little boy replies, and it’s another blow.
My son was scared because I didn’t do my job as his father. He should have never been left alone, and Ana should have never been kidnapped. They should have never been anywhere that didn’t have full security with them at all times.
They should have been here.
“Miss Tia tried to call you about a billion times, and you never answered. And then these men I didn’t know came to get me, andMiss Tia told me that I had to go with them, but you told me I wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers and that if a stranger tried to take me, I should go to someone I know for help, but I know Miss Tia!”
His little voice rambles through his tale, and I take the time to stand there and listen, to figure out how the hell I’m ever going to be able to talk to him.
But I don’t have to. I just have to listen to his stories and make sure he knows that no matter what he does, I love him.
My eyes burn. My heart squeezes too tightly for me to breathe. My entire body is struggling to find even ground as too many synapses in my brain fire and my knees go so wobbly I have to lower myself, too.
Ana does what I should be doing, telling him, “Oh, my heart, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you what to do if that ever happened. That’s my fault.”