Page 10

10

ANASTASIA

T he cafeteria coffee, if I can even call it that, tastes like tar.

It rests thickly over my tongue as I hold it in my mouth, debating whether I even want to swallow while my mind races.

Poor Tanya.

She’s not the first I’ve seen like this and she won’t be the last.

I don’t judge her.

I can’t imagine the hell she went through, and how she chooses to cope is her own business, but I will do everything in my power to give her a real chance at a new life.

It’s the very least I can do to make up for the horrors conducted under my father’s rule.

It’s a mercy that he’s dead.

But I am now the face of the family, so I am the one they hate.

I can take it.

Mostly.

Finally swallowing, my head falls forward and I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose while a tight ache pulls across my forehead.

“I know that look,” comes a familiar voice with a sharp tang of Irish curling over those words.

“Not sleeping?”

Lifting my head, I come face to face with Cormac Gifford.

The last time we saw each other like this we were at The Black Ox—a bar famous for being the only neutral ground in all of New York— and he was accusing me of murdering his older brother, Brenden.

How long ago that feels now.

“People like us don’t sleep,” I murmur, tipping the paper cup in my hands back and forth.

“They don’t drink shitty coffee either.” He lifts one hand and offers me a coffee bought from one of the local stores nearby.

“Is it poisoned?”

“You’re in the right place if it is.” He smirks.

“But no. It ain’t.”

Abandoning the swill in my own cup, I accept his peace offering and we walk to sit at a nearby table.

“I’m surprised you came.”

“Given how we left things the last time, I knew you wouldn’t reach out unless it was important.”

“And you came alone?” I lift one brow.

Cormac smiles slyly and drinks his own coffee.

“As alone as you are.”

So he has guards nearby just like I do, hidden in the crowd and mingling around so as not to draw attention to themselves.

I expect nothing less from Cormac.

The man tore the city apart searching for his brother’s killer and then his girlfriend.

I respect it, even if accusations flew in my direction for a while.

Someone sending flowers along with death condolences didn’t help the matter.

“How long has it been?” Cormac asks.

“The months feel like years these days.”

I shrug.

“Six months? Give or take. I heard on the grapevine that the Italians were behind your issue .”

Cormac’s brow dips and he drags a hand through his auburn hair, sending it all on end.

“In a manner, yes.”

“Unfortunate.”

“Indeed. So, what’s this about? You didn’t call me here to reminisce and I have to pick up Evelyn and Saoirse soon.”

“No, I didn’t.” I sip the coffee, an act that shows I trust Cormac for the moment.

“How is your little girlfriend, by the way? She caused quite a stir.”

Cormac snorts and then laughs loudly.

“She’s fine. Better than fine, actually. Thriving.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Which…” Cormac sets his cup down and his large hands clasp together.

“She’ll want me to say this so… I’m sorry.”

My stomach knots slightly.

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry I came down so hard on you all those months ago when I was sure that your loan sharks had something to do with my brother’s death. Without you, I never would have found Holly, so… I am sorry.”

“I can’t blame you,” I reply.

“Our families have been at odds ever since my father snatched you off the street when you were little. So… I understand.”

“I heard what happened to him.” Cormac tilts his head.

“Is that what you need help with? His killer is still out there, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but that’s not what I called for. I need something else.”

“Alright.” Cormac returns to his drink, watching me over the edge of his cup as he sips.

“Talk.”

“Your family has a lot of dealings, I know that. I’m interested in your dealings with the pharmaceutical drug trade.”

“Maybe we do,” he says, lowering the cup.

“Maybe we don’t.”

I fight the urge to narrow my eyes.

“I want to make a deal.”

“Why? Drugs aren’t your thing.”

“No. They’re not. I’m not looking to move in on your market or anything like that. I need a supply.”

His eyes dart down me.

“Personal?”

“No. Sort of.” Taking a deep breath, I grip the coffee cup tighter.

“I’m sure you’re well aware of the changes that have been happening in my line of work.”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t play the fool. You know we’re moving away from the skin trade just like I know you’re buying up a bunch of motels.” My eyes narrow this time.

“I’m not here for games.”

“Fine. Continue.”

“I can’t fix what my father broke, but I can help the people who come into my care. The problem is, a lot of them need expensive help and aren’t willing to stay in the hospital. I can cover medical bills and drugs, but sometimes it feels like it’s easier on the victims if they don’t have to have everything put on their record. So I want a direct supply to help those people with whatever they need. Painkillers. Medication. Some of these people will need help for the rest of their lives, and I need a way for them to be cared for that doesn’t leave a paper trail, as many of these people also want to disappear.”

Cormac is silent, studying me over the edge of his cup.

Then he lowers it and fixes me with a steady stare.

“You’re asking for a lot.”

“Too much for you to handle?” I challenge.

“Not at all. We can work something out. But I want something in return.”

“Naturally.”

“You’re getting into the construction game.”

“I am.”

“Well, as it turns out, those motels you mentioned need renovation and I need a good deal. A discount, if you will.”

His question, while hidden, is as clear as day.

“I’m sure we can work something out,” I reply.

“So, do we have a deal?”

Cormac glances at his watch and then nods.

“I’ll have my people call your people.”

“Thank you.”

We stand, and he offers me his hand.

“Be careful, Anastasia. I know better than anyone that change brings out the worst in people.”

I accept his handshake with a brief, tight smile.

“I’ll be fine. Take care.”

Cormac leaves as quietly as he arrived, and the weight across my shoulders eases slightly.

The finer details will be tough to hash out, but we have the makings of something good.

I just hope it pans out.

I head back up to Tanya’s room where I left Erik to stand guard.

His attention is glued to his phone, and I glimpse the hospital security cameras on the screen before he flips his phone away.

“How did it go?” Erik asks, running his eyes over me.

“You had a front-row seat,” I remark.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t trust him.”

Humorless laughter escapes me in a huff.

“I don’t trust him either, but it’s a deal that will benefit us both.”

“You think he will hold up his end?”

“Maybe.” A beat of exhaustion suddenly washes over me, and when I look back at Erik, his brows are pinched in concern.

“I’m fine. I’m tired.”

“You’re doing a good thing here, Anastasia.”

“Am I? For each person I save, my father sentenced hundreds more to a lifetime of cruelty and I was complicit.”

“We all were,” Erik says quietly, and there’s something unfamiliar in his eyes.

“But you aren’t him. He was a tyrant. You’re trying to change things.”

“Hard to do when he left behind such a disaster and overwhelming debt.”

“Wait, what?” Erik perks up suddenly, but I wave him off and open the door to Tanya’s room.

“I’m staying here tonight,” I say.

“See you in the morning.”

I close the door on Erik’s puzzled face and spend the next ten minutes assuring Tanya that I will get her clean again, and I will set her up in a new life with all the medication she needs.

I’ll even hold her hand through the entire thing.

Tanya is, thankfully, less angry, but she doesn’t believe me.

Only time will prove to her that I’m telling the truth.

I take up residence in the chair by the window and settle in for the night until a call buzzes through from Faina.

“Hey.”

“We’ve got a problem.”

Pressure sweeps through my gut.

“What is it?”

“The Cartel. They’re sniffing around again, and this time, it looks like they’re here to stay. What do you want me to do?”

Shit.

As if things could get any worse.

All the money I’m scraping together to help these people, and start the new construction business, hinges on the people my father owned money to not chasing up that debt yet.

It seems I’ve run out of time.

“Put everyone on high alert,” I say.

“Shit just got so much worse.”