Page 9

"I'm sorry to hear that," she says quietly. "If there's anything I can do, let me know. Any of us—you know that, Ruthie."

Though I'm not married into the Kopolov family, I’m still family by affiliation—just because my sister was.

"Thanks," I say with forced brightness. We make small talk, and then Luka starts getting antsy. Right before we leave, Semyon raises his voice.

"Ruthie, can I talk with you before you go?"

"Yeah," I tell him, looking at Luka, but Anya gestures for him to come behind the counter.

"I need a strong man to help me carry things from the back room," she says wistfully. "Do you know of anyone?"

"Me!" he says, as if he's just come up with the most brilliant idea. He trots back behind the counter with Anya, and the two of them disappear. Semyon rounds the counter toward me and quietly locks the door, ensuring we have privacy.

Uh-oh. My heart beats a little faster.

"Have you talked to Vadka about what we found out recently? "

I shake my head. "Not much. He made a couple of inferences but nothing in detail. Something I should know?"

"Not entirely sure you're safe at work," he says. "Vadka will tell you more, but I wanted to know if you've seen anything—heard anything—that could be suspicious."

I shake my head and think it over. "No, but what types of things?"

"New customers coming in. Illegal activity. People asking you questions or giving you a hard time."

I think back on the other night when that woman was almost drugged—how I had to call the bouncers. That was nothing truly out of the ordinary, though, since shit like that happens all the time…

"Nothing unusual," I tell him. "Nothing that really concerns me."

He nods. "If there is, I want you to let one of us know right away. Whoever you trust the most—it doesn't matter. We'll communicate."

"How long has Vadka known about this?" I ask curiously.

"We just found out," he says softly. Then he looks up at me, and his expression drops—almost angry.

"If your brother-in-law told you not to go to work, would you listen to him anyway?"

"It would depend on his reasoning," I answer, my voice hard. Just because I’m family by affiliation doesn’t make me obedient to any of them. "If it was good enough, maybe. But I don’t miss work, Semyon. ”

He blows out a breath.

"I figured as much. But in the past few years, you were the one who spied for us. You got information that was sensitive and passed it on. And nothing's come across at all?"

My heart races, and I’m getting nervous now. He’s right. I haven’t heard anything or seen anything. Haven’t had anybody come to me.

If anything, that in itself is a warning sign.

I nod and tell him quietly,” Not at all.”

Semyon frowns. “The Irish killed your sister, Ruthie. Vadka has retaliated. It’s been a fucking bloodbath. You’re not safe."

God. Why haven’t I stayed in touch with Vadka? Asked questions? Why has nobody told me?

Maybe they didn’t know.

"Okay—what are you saying?"

Semyon blows out a breath and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"What I’m telling you is—I know you’re just his sister-in-law, but whatever the hell he tells you to do, do it. Especially if you have anything to do with him or his son. They’re ruthless, Ruthie. Ruthless . There’s nothing they won’t do.”

I look back toward Anya and Luka, suddenly afraid for my nephew.

"Don’t worry about them," Semyon says quietly. "We have three armed guards. They block and monitor each entrance— quietly. We don’t want to scare away the customers, but they’re there.”

I nod.

"Where are you going next?"

"We were going grocery shopping and then?—"

He shakes his head. "No. That’s not a good idea. Probably safest for you to stay here or go back to the family home.”

Okay. All right. I can do this.

Why hasn’t Vadka called me? Why does the warning have to come from Semyon?

And why does that make me feel so sad?

Luka comes trotting out, holding a bag of cookies, a smear of frosting on his lip.

"Looks like you had a taste," I say with a smile, trying to keep my tone light and airy.

I glance at my phone and realize I’ve missed five messages and phone calls from Vadka. My heart leaps into my throat. Even while I feel that leap, I also feel momentary relief. He did try to reach me. Us.

"Oh my god," I whisper. "I didn’t realize…"

"What happened?" Semyon is immediately alert. His shoulders pull back, and his eyes snap to mine.

"Vadka did try to reach me, but my phone was on silent. Shit. I think I know what happened—Luka had my phone. He was watching a show back at your house, and he must’ve accidentally put it on silent. "

Shit.

I shake my head. The kid is smarter than I think. Probably didn’t want his show interrupted.

"That tracks," Semyon says. "Call Vadka back—and tell me what he wants you to do."

I nod, feeling like I’m almost in a sort of daze.

Okay, all right, I can do this. One step at a time.

I’m safe right now. Luka’s safe right now.

I’ve got this.

"Auntie Ruthie? Are we going home?" Luka asks, and I can tell he’s already tired.

"Soon, baby. But right now, you’re gonna go back with Grandfather and Auntie Zoya, okay?"

"Can I go with you to bring Grandma her cookies?"

"Not this time. I’m sorry," I say quietly. "Grandma doesn’t feel well. We have to wait until she’s better, okay?"

He nods, thankfully oblivious to the lump in my throat and the way my voice wavers. Semyon may be too—but his wife isn’t. She gives me a smile, warm and full of encouragement, and I realize then that I can handle sympathy. I can handle encouragement. But pity?

Pity makes me feel like I’m not capable of handling hard things.

And I am.

I’m still here, aren’t I ?

It doesn’t take long to get back to the Kopolov family mansion. By the time we arrive, Rodion, the youngest Kopolov brother, and his wife Ember are there. He’s got an adorable, fluffy puppy on a leash with him.

"The newest addition to the family," he says brightly, and Luka drops the cookies in the back seat of the car and runs to go see the puppy, who licks his face with so much excitement and enthusiasm—then promptly pees in the garden.

"Good boy!" Rodion says with a big grin. "See? I told you he’d train quickly."

Red-haired Ember gives him a smile.

"He peed because he was excited, not because he’s trained, Rodion. But I think you’re right. I’m pretty sure he is going to train really quickly. Aren’t you, baby?" she says, scratching his ears.

"Uh, does Rafail know you’re bringing a puppy into the house?" I ask.

Ember still talks in her baby voice to the dog, though she’s answering my question.

"Would be bad if Rafail doesn’t know, but it won’t hurt him, will it?" she says, and I can’t help but crack a smile.

I need to come here more often. It’s so fucking good to be near family again. Even if it’s found family, I’m welcome here.

There’s always something happening, someone to talk to, someone to cry to.

I open my phone .

"I need to go see my mom," I tell Rodion, and his eyes cloud over.

"Did you run that by Rafail and Vadka first?"

I give him a noncommittal shrug.

I feel a little guilty because I'm not exactly trying to go against anything he told me, but I also know that if I call him right now, he's absolutely gonna tell me not to go see my mom. She needs me, though, and that matters.

I told him that I was bringing Luka here so that he could be safe, and Semyon said something about there being potential retaliation.

If Rafail or Vadka tells me to come back, I will.

But I'm worried about my mother. If I don't go see her, they could… A lump forms in my throat again. I am so overdue for a good cry. I think it’ll do me some good.

I bring Luka inside the house, and then I head to Mom's before anyone can stop me. What if she’s in danger?

I hate going to visit my mother. It takes energy I feel like I don't have, and then I hate myself for hating going.

Who hates visiting their mother? She gave me birth.

Life. I wouldn't be here without her—but here I am, wishing I could be anywhere except the place that smells like urine and desperation. I hate it so fucking much.

I park the car when my phone rings.

Vadka . Guiltily, I answer.

"Look, I brought Luka to the house. Semyon told me what's going on. I won’t be long.”

Maybe he'll listen. Maybe we can be reasonable. Maybe we can discuss this like reasonable adults .

Maybe not.

"Glad you took care of my son," Vadka says, and I swear I can hear him speaking through clenched teeth, even from here.

"This is not the time to be going to your mother's, Ruthie! Are you out of your mind?"

"Listen, all I know is that there's potential blowback. But you guys have been fighting the Irish for how long? Years?"

"It isn't like that," he says tightly. "You're in danger. I don't even want you to go back to work."

I straighten my spine.

"But you can't control that. That's up to me. You were married to my sister, not me, remember?"

Why does that make my heart ache? I can't speak for a minute.

"You don't have the right to tell me where I can go or who I can talk to—none of it, Vadka. You don't have that right."

"I promised your sister I would take care of you."

I stop. "Well, that's news to me. And when did you do that? You didn't know she was dying. It's not like you had some kind of deathbed conversation."

Okay, now that felt like a dick thing to say.

"When your mother was institutionalized, Ruth."

Ruth. Not Ruthie. He only calls me that when he's getting all big-brotherly and angry with me .

"I promised her that no matter what, I would take care of you. Who do you think paid that outstanding doctor bill when you wrecked your wrist?” His voice is like a blade, cutting through my defenses.

“Who do you think made sure your eviction notice disappeared before you ever saw it? Who handled the cops when you got picked up for that damn bar brawl and kept your record clean?”

Each word slams into me. I can’t reply.