Yakov Dorfman
Prologue
I’m instantly alert, the remnants of sleep forgotten as I lay in bed and wait. I listen for Monty, thinking he is headed for the bathroom, but there is no sound from the other bedroom of our suite at the Kosher Nostra compound. I know what woke me, same as it has for months now.
My bedroom door opens slowly, closing with a quiet snick. I smile to myself when the shadow jerks as if the sound was too loud in the otherwise silent suite. If I wasn’t me, if I didn’t have years of rigorous training, if I wasn’t a paranoid motherfucker, I wouldn’t even know anyone was here.
Except we do this nearly every night. I listen intently, following their movements, lying still and breathing evenly while they rustle around at the foot of my bed. Long minutes later, soft snores fill my bedroom from the nest on the floor. It isn’t long before my bedroom door opens once more.
The dim lighting from the living room provides enough for me to see the soft smile on Monty’s face as he stares at the figure on my floor. Gently, he scoops her up, and I raise the covers on my California King bed. He places her reverently on the bed and crawls behind her. I stare at her for a while, her delicate features and pouty bottom lip calling to me, always have.
Over her head, I meet Monty’s knowing gaze. It unnerves me, stirring up unsettling emotions I would rather ignore. Christopher Montgomery and I have been inseparable since we were young dumb kids. After packing me up and dragging me across Europe and the Atlantic Ocean, my father worked as a foot soldier for the Kosher Nostra. I often followed him on his rounds, having no babysitter and my father’s disregard for a proper education. He started hooking up with a prostitute, and I would wait with her son in the living room or outside when the weather was good. Monty and I bonded over shitty or missing parents and music.
When my father died carrying out Kosher Nostra business, David Holofcener, the previous Avinu and Moshe’s dad, took me in and I was raised right alongside his children and their cousins. They welcomed Monty with open arms as well. We’ve lived together since freshman year of college. We share a two-bedroom suite here at the compound, and a house in the city. Since he works for Tev at Makabim Security, it’s convenient to have him close by, but we live together because he’s my family and my best friend.
So, when he looks at me like he is right now, I know our pillow talk is going to piss me off.
“How long are we gonna play this game, Yak?”
“Not a game,” I grunt, my eyes shifting to her face as she sleeps soundly between us.
“It is, and it’s getting old.”
“Then take her to your room.”
“You really want that?” I don’t. Every muscle in my body is coiling tight, ready to snatch her up if he even considers it.
“No,” I admit grudgingly. She has access to our suite and office because…because I want her to. I like her around. I like the way her scent lingers after she’s left. I like the feeling of her tight little ass in my lap, my thick body a protective shield that surrounds her. I like how she giggles with Monty and lays her head on his thigh on the couch in my office. I like how his long fingers card through her shiny black hair.
And I hate that I like it. Any of it. All of it. Her. Him. FUCK!
“That’s what I thought.”
I force the painful admission from my throat. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I am—”
“She finds comfort simply sleeping on the floor of your bedroom. Curls up in our laps and falls asleep in the middle of family get-togethers. It isn’t healthy for her to continue like this. She doesn’t even know this isn’t our primary residence.”
“She needs this right now. I can’t tell her no. Can’t turn her away.” I rub my face, irritation spiking hot in my veins. “But are we really what is best for her? Am I?” She whimpers, her expression sad as a single tear falls from her eye. She reaches out, her delicate fingers curling into my chest hair while her other hand extends backward to clutch Monty’s side. She sighs, her features relaxing as she snuggles into us.
Monty slides closer until the front of his body molds to her back. His dark eyes meet mine once more. “Whether you think we’re right for her or not, she’s already decided.”
Sophia Goldman 1.
Tears stream down my cheeks, dropping to the dark interior of the SUV. Huddled in the foot well of the backseat, chaos rains around me and all I can do is cry silently with my hands over my head. I’m pathetic. Tovah handed Dottie a gun but not me. Because she knows I’m weak, a little girl incapable of protecting herself.
I went to the gun ranges with my sisters when we moved to Charlotte. I tried. I did, but I just couldn’t get the hang of it. I squeaked whenever I would depress the trigger, bruised my hands from the recoil and attempting to load the bullets.
I was really excited to meet Ruthie. Sweet, shy, innocent just like me. Then I heard the story of her time in New York when she shot at attackers with fearless precision and I realized we weren’t the same.
“STOP!”
“TOVAH!” I risk a glance through the window, my heart clenching in fear at the sight of my sister with a gun to her head. I barely register the words being exchanged, crying out when the man shoots Tovah, the jade fabric of her jumpsuit blooming dark with blood. I can’t look away.
Air heavy with the metallic scent of blood and sulfur, the backdoor opens and large hands grab at me, pulling me free from the vehicle. My arms and legs snap out, a delayedresponse, fighting to protect myself until Yakov’s deep timbre penetrates the fog of fear.
“I’ve got you, Sweetling. Shh.” His spicy scent obliterates the lingering smells of the gun fight, his warm, thick body enveloping me as he carries me from the SUV, cradled in his arms. Burying my face in his throat, I close my eyes and focus on him, the beat of his heart, the bunch and flex of his muscles beneath me, the bark of his authoritative tone as he addresses others around us.
I force myself to be brave, arch my neck and look up at him. A scream lodges in my throat, the contorted face of my father glaring down at me. “You are a disgrace! Your sisters serve a purpose, but you are nothing but a hemorrhage, a waste of valuable resources that does nothing but bleed everyone around you dry.” His arms suddenly disappear and then I’m falling.
