“Wait. We can’t just… I have to call my friend?—”
“Later. Just keep your head down until I tell you.” The next thing I do is call Mikki. His name appears on my dashboard as the ringing sound of his phone goes off through my speakers.
“Yeah?” he says.
“Meet me at my house. Now.”
“On the way.” Mikki hangs the phone up. Even though the wheels are turning as I drive, I’m not sure what the next step beyond this is. We’re playing all this off book. I just hope it works out in the end.
I don’t lether sit up until we’re through the front gates. She hasn’t spoken a word since we left the park and I haven’t encouraged her, either. I can imagine all this has been more than just a little traumatic for her. I did take a second to look her over as best I could from the driver’s seat, just to make sure she wasn’t shot. She doesn’t appear to be in distress and there’s no blood on my seats. It looks like we both made it out whole somehow.
I take note of the guards around my property right now. It’s the normal amount, one at the door and three patrolling the grounds. I’ll need to arrange more. I don’t want to leave anything to chance. I hate to pull any of my guys off their current tasks, but this is important.
As we pull up, I spot Mikki standing by his car, arms crossed. I park next to him and turn to Natalya. “Stay here.”
She nods obediently. As I get out, I can see the bewildered look in Mikki’s eyes as they dart from her to me and back again. “What’s she doing here? What the hell happened?”
“They tried to come for us at the park,” I tell him. “Didn’t have a choice. I had to bring her back here.”
“Didn’t have…? Shit.” He runs a hand over his short hair, the look on his face one of panic as well as calculation. “What now? You know as soon as Petrov finds out?—”
“He’s the least of our problems at the moment. And even if he wasn’t, we need to get this house in order, ASAP. Go inside and wait for me. Let me talk to Natalya.”
He sighs, the disapproval all over his face. It doesn’t matter, though. One way or another, this has to happen. “Right,” he says. “I’ll see you inside.”
I walk around the car and let Natalya out. She looks up at me with a needful look in her eyes. “Are you all right?” I ask her. She nods.
“I think so. I’m just shaken up, that’s all.”
I sigh. There’s so much to do. So many moving pieces…
“First things first. You’re staying with me now,” I tell her. “It’s pretty clear that you won’t be safe on your own.”
She blinks innocently. “I… I don’t have my clothes or any of my things?—”
“Anything you need, I’ll make sure you have it. Listen, if you think anyone was after you for seeing me kill someone, imagine what they must think now. This is for the best, Natalya. The way this is shaking out, there’s no place on earth you’ll be safer than with me.”
She blushes a little, then nods sharply. “Thank you,” she says.
I was expecting more resistance. I’m glad she’s clear on the situation. “Come on. Let me show you to where you’ll be sleeping.”
15
NATALYA
This house ishuge.
It’s almost like a castle, with old wood floors that look well maintained. They shine like they were freshly stained and yet I can see spots where some of the boards have warped over time. Parts of the floor creaked under our feet when Anton walked me to my room. The walls are wallpapered with a shiny paisley design pattern that looks like it was popular in the eighteen hundreds. Old portraits line the walls of tattooed men in suits alongside landscapes of far off places. Some of them are painted but most of them are photographs.
This looks like the home of an old man or something like what my grandfather’s house used to look like. The old world of the Bratva lives within these walls…
My room is beautiful and a weird mix of both worlds. The floors here are carpeted and so plush it actually looks completely untouched. There’s a dresser and armoire for clothing, a full-length mirror in the corner that looks like it’s made of brass, and the bed, which is probably the most modern thing in here,cushiony headboard with a quilted cover. As I sit on one corner, I nearly sink into it. Gives for a good night’s sleep, something I haven’t had in a while. The mattress in Ilya’s guest room is lumpy as fuck. I’m gonna look forward to sleeping on this bed.
The curtains are drawn and I’m tempted to open them. I don’t know how safe that is, though. Anton said something about fortifying the premises before he left, so maybe I’ll just wait until he gets back before I get really comfortable.
Oh, shit. I’d better call Ilya. I pull my phone out and before I can call her, it rings. She’s calling me.
“Oh, thank God,” she says when I answer. “Are you okay?”
