Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Karma at its finest.
When Vasily’s frustrated roar bounces through the cab of the car his father sent to collect us, I roll my shoulders back and harden my features. Tonight is not the night for me to act nonchalant. We were meant to meet constituencies of his father’s office at a restaurant two hours ago. As usual, Vasily is late. “Check again! You don’t lose a ton of inventory from a foreign country unless some cunt stole it out from beneath your damn nose.”
Although skeptical the Bobrov crew had anything to do with the Lenkovs’ missing stock, I send Alek a quick message so he’s aware of an impending investigation. The Lenkovs once distributed a lot of the Bobrov stock—including women—so they could be biting back at the Lenkovs’ attempt to go it alone since they’re no longer importing.
Me:
Half of a Lenkov consignment is missing. Vasily assumes foul play.
Alek’s message pops up a second later. It dries my throat.
Alek:
What the fuck are you doing hanging around the Lenkov crew?
Before I can get mad that he didn’t give me much choice when he up and left town with everyone of importance in my life, he adds,
Alek:
Are you okay?
Although certain Ana is behind his sudden empathy, I reply as if I’m clueless.
Me:
Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?
I read my reply over and over again when his face pops up on my phone’s screen instead of a text message notification. Nothing I said should have set him off, but Alek is more perceptive than most men, although nowhere near as much as he was years ago.
He changed the day his daughter was born not breathing, and although Ana’s return to his life has been a godsend, I’m not sure he will ever fully recover. It is like an alcoholic. Just because they quit drinking doesn’t mean they’re no longer labeled an alcoholic.
I guess the same could be said for men drowning in grief. It doesn’t vanish after a set amount of time. It stays forever. You merely learn to live with it, not get over it.
The remembrance has me hopeful Yev’s lack of contact this week is because of his confession that he doesn’t want me to fix him.
After hitting the end call button on the FaceTime app, I revert our communication to the text messages that’s kept us in contact the past six months.
Me:
Can’t talk. About to attend an event. Speak soon.
My huff ripples through my lips when his reply pops up.
Alek:
FaceTime me tonight or I’ll find another way to stop you from lying to me. You can’t fib to my face.
Needing to end our conversation before he drags Yev into my mess more adeptly than I already have, I tap out a reply.
Me:
I look forward to it.
I’m such a liar. The last time he confronted me in person, I had to admit my first foster father was inappropriately touching me.
When our father killed our mother, Alek went to a boys’ home, and I was “gifted” to a foster family who only took in girls. I learned why when the bathroom door wouldn’t lock, and my foster father “accidentally” walked in on me changing my first night there.
The first time, I excused it as a mishap, but when it continued each evening, I became extremely wary.
Not even stuffing a laundry hamper under the door handle stopped him from entering.
I told the foster lady who came to check on me. She didn’t believe me. She said I was only a baby, so why would a grown man be interested in anything I had to offer.
“You don’t even have boobs yet,” she shrieked out, her words choked by laughter.
When he realized he could get away with it, it only took weeks for looking to switch to touching. I was eight and petrified. Alek was twelve and ready to go on a warpath with anyone.
Our communication was sporadic the first few months of our placement, but it was clear he knew something was wrong because the last message he sent me that snowy winter’s night was that he’d be over to visit me the following day.
He showed up at the doorstep of my foster home an hour later with a bat and an angry sidekick with a scarred face.
No one wants to admit they let someone hurt them, but Alek eventually coerced it out of me.
I was placed into another foster home the following afternoon.
When I found out the placement was with an English teacher from abroad who was only a decade older than Alek, I was guarded, but that placement was a blessing. Mr. Fleming never did anything inappropriate. He treated me like a daughter and still does to this day.
I just wish he wasn’t forced to live so far away. His work visa ran out six months ago, so he had no choice but to leave. We stay in regular contact, but it isn’t the same as having him here. His wife misses him, and he’s only ever seen his precious baby girl via FaceTime.