Page 11 of Caged
“You know the only way that happens is when Ivan dies.” It isn’t a question. We both accepted it as fact years ago.
Mikhail leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees before staring at the ground. “We aren’t strong enough yet, brother.” He acts like the words punch him in the gut. “I think I found a buyer for the diamonds you found. But, this stuff takes time.” He pushes up his sleeve to expose his Rolex. “I have to go. Give Elena my love. The hot chocolate is for her.” He sets it down on the bench as he stands.
“It’s Vegas, Mikhail. The sun is already melting my head.” This is nothing like the nine months of winter we grew up with.
“She’s a kid. They thrive on sweets. She won’t care.” He pats my shoulder before sauntering off.
The gaggle of women sitting on the far side all turn to each other, hiding their smiles as they point at him.
He could have his choice, yet ignores them.
Always business. Forever plotting. That’s him.
I’m just existing, and hoping I’m not fucking my daughter up too badly in the process.
The best thing I could do to protect her would be to leave this life. But, I learned five years ago today, that the shadows of the past always come back to haunt.
It’s safer being with the few people I trust, for her sake.
“Daddy? Was that Uncle Miki?” Elena’s cheeks are flushed from running. Or, the savage heat. “Did he bring me anything?” She eyes the smaller cup and bats her lashes.
“He did, but it’s too hot to drink.” I need to talk to him about only giving her gifts and never spending any time with her. Connection to family is what he needs more than anything.
She picks up her treat and takes a tentative sip before tipping it back and guzzling like a frat boy with a beer bong.
“Elena! What did I say?” I scowl at her.
She gives me a sheepish grin and wipes the chocolate from her lip. “It was fine, Daddy. Here.” Pushing the empty container into my hand, she skips to a balance board nearby. “Can we get some ice cream on the way home?” She doesn’t look back, but I’m sure she knows I’m following.
“Today, we will do anything you want.” I usually have rules she follows. But on the anniversary of Katerina’s death, the last thing I want to do is argue.
FIVE
MILA
“Cut down fourth. You won’t be able to miss it.” Tyler’s calm voice comes through my earbud as I cut a corner on the Kawasaki crotch rocket Ivan had waiting for me.
It doesn’t ride as easily as my IZH, but it handles nicely.
“You might want to go in on foot. There’s a lot of action you don’t want to get in the middle of.” He directs me to a hidden alley just ahead where I can park the motorcycle behind a dumpster.
“The target’s Hellcat is coming in from the north. Keep your eyes peeled and head down. Can’t have you dying on me, you still have to find your seven minutes.” His warning is standard.
It’s almost a good luck saying by now.
The thought is silly, but presses us to the future. Rumor has it, in the moment of our death, our minds replay a movie of the best times of our lives. A seven minute reel of bliss that flickers through before we die.
I haven’t found mine.
Yet, neither has he.
The sounds of a fight start to work their way through the hot afternoon air.
Fuck this place is like the surface of the sun. So much harder to work in than the forests of Siberia.
I’d walk through hell itself to get my brother free.
So, I wipe the sweat from my forehead and work my way closer using whatever cover I can find.