She starts to protest, but I kiss her lips to stop her and say, “I’m afraid I’m all compromised out, sweetheart. That’s as good as it’s going to get.”
“No, you can’t,” she yells when I let her go to grab the bat at my feet. Her face is pale at the idea of what’s about to happen. It’s not going to be pretty, and I don’t blame her for not having the stomach for it. It’s nothing I would ever want her to see, and I don’t expect her to watch it now. Looking over at Vasily, I give him a nod and gently scoot Evie closer to him.
“Valeri!” she yells, lunging for me, but Vasily grabs her and clamps a hand over her mouth to stop her from screaming.
“I’m sorry, Evie,” he tells her, “but you can’t keep screaming. Your neighbors will call the police, and we can’t let that happen just yet. Let’s go sit on the porch for a little bit. I’ll tell you the story of how I met my wife. Maybe it’ll help you understand our low tolerance for men who prey on women.”
Her body slumps, the fight leaving her, but when her eyes meet mine, I see the hurt and confusion in them, and it kills me.
“She’ll be okay,” he tells me in Russian, turning her around and leading her out to the porch. Before they step out, he takes his hand off her mouth, and she doesn’t scream, so I take that as a good sign. She gives me one last look before walking out the door. Once it’s shut, I turn my attention back to her dad.
Volodya nudges him in the lower back, pushing him down before pressing his knee into his back, pinning him to the floor. He smacks her dad on the cheek, pulling a pained moan from him because of the broken jaw.
“You shouldn’t beat your daughter, jackass,” he tells him and then looks up at me. Switching to Russian, he grins and says, “This is going to hurt like a motherfucker.”
There’s a reason Vasily chose porch duty. It’s not because he can’t stomach this sort of thing. I’ve seen him laugh while putting a guy’s head on a spike. Nothing fazes him, but he gave this to Volodya for the simple reason that he knew how much our brother would enjoy it. Plus, we all know he’ll be able to comfort Evie better than Volodya could. He’s really only sweet to Maddie. He wouldn’t be mean to Evie. It’s more that his idea of comfort might be to offer to come in here and slice off her dad’s balls with one of his knives. I’m not sure that would make Evie feel any better.
Kneeling down by her dad, I wait until he meets my eyes. His are a darker shade of brown than Evie’s. I don’t see anything of her in him. He’s pathetic and mean, and his daughter is sweet and perfect.
“I know you heard what I’m going to do to you.”
He moans something, trying to form words, but I ignore him.
“You brought this on yourself. You’ve been beating her for years, and now it’s time for you to feel a little bit of what you’ve put her through. You don’t deserve her, and you will never see her again. She’s mine now, and I’ll be taking care of her from here on out. You are no longer a part of her life. Do you understand?”
He moans an “Mm-hmm.”
“If you ever try to hurt her or get in contact with her again, I will kill you. Do you understand?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Good.” I stand back up and press my boot against his arm, pinning it in place. “This is going to hurt. Try to be a man for once in your life and take it with some dignity.”
Volodya puts a hand over his mouth because we both know he’s going to scream, broken jaw and dignity be damned. With the image of Evie’s bloody face clear in my mind, I raise the bat and bring it down with enough force to break several bones on the first swing. His muffled scream fills the room, but I’m hoping it’s not loud enough to filter out to the porch.
“He’s fucking slobbering all over my goddamn hand,” Volodya groans. “I hate it when they do that. It’s so fucking gross.”
I give her dad’s hand a few more solid hits before concentrating on the fingers. He passes out before I even get to the third one.
“It’s good to see you in love, little brother,” Volodya says as I bring the bat down yet again.
I laugh at my psycho older brother and get to work on the ring finger. By the time I stop, I’m fairly confident that her dad will never be able to use his right hand again.
“God, that’s going to suck when he wants to jerk off,” Volodya says with a laugh, wiping his wet hand on her dad’s shirt to get the drool off. He’s conscious and groaning, and he’s in for many weeks and months of pain. It’ll give him time to reflect on his shitty parenting skills.
Volodya rolls him over and unsheathes one of his knives, letting Evie’s dad get a good look at the vicious thing. I didn’t think the man could get any paler, but I’m proven wrong when he goes a few shades lighter.
“Do I need to remind you that you’d better not say shit to the cops about this?”
“Mm-mmm,” he moans, shaking his head and wincing when it hurts his jaw.
“Good, because if I find out that you talked to them or told them anything about us, I will come back in here while you’re sleeping and cut your fucking balls off before I shove them down your goddamn throat.”
I knew slicing off balls would come up, and I’m so glad he didn’t go with Evie to the porch. We both head up the stairs to grab her stuff, ignoring her dad’s moans and pleas for help. I scrub a hand over my face and say in Russian, “She looked at me like I was a monster.”
Volodya slaps my back. “She’ll forgive you. She loves you.”
We find her room easily enough. She’s already packed up most of her stuff. I grab the few things that are laying around and shove it all into the last empty box. I eye the small bed and the way she’s tried so hard to make this dreary room as cheerful as possible. The blue paint on the walls and potted plants in the window help, but there’s no denying the depressing air to this house. It’s seen too much pain to ever feel cheerful, no matter what color you paint the damn walls.
