She laughs, covering her mouth with a napkin.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“How is it that your father locked you away like Rapunzel and you’restillliving more life than the rest of us? I can’t believe it. It’s like something straight out of those trashy novels.”
I shrug. “It’s better, actually. Best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”
She slumps a little in her chair. “Wow. Just… wow.” After a second or two more, she sits up and stabs at a piece of lettuce. “So, I guess now you two are a thing, then?”
I pop a fry in my mouth and scrunch my nose at her as I chew. “No.”
“No? Best sex in your life and you don’t want to do it again?”
“Oh, I want to do it again. I want to do it alot,in fact. But, I mean, seriously, can I? How realistic would a relationship with an enforcer from my father’s Bratva be?”
She purses her lips to one side. “Valid,” she says. “Your father would probably put Viktor’s head on a pike if he knew about the two of you.”
“Right.” I look down at what’s left of my fries and the half of a hamburger that’s left and I think again about last night. I don’t think I’ll ever forget being with him. Not as long as I live.
“It isn’t fair,” I say, and I think I’m saying it more for myself than to Marla.
“Life isn’t fair,” she says. “You know, maybe if you manage to solve things with your father?—”
“That’s not going to happen. There’s nothing to solve. He thinks I’m a wild, unruly child who needs to be sheltered away to save his reputation. Oh, what would the other Bratva think if the great Pakhan can’t handle his own daughter? He’s almost as bad as a little old church lady.”
Marla sighs, her face dipping a little. “Sorry, Tati. That’s a rotten deal.”
I eat a little more, my mind turning. “You know the worst part? I can actually see myself with him. There’s something about him that makes me want to… I don’t know. Learn more from him, about him, maybe? He just seems like he’s got something that I want.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Like a secret?”
I shrug. “All I know is that I want to find out.”
She nods and pokes at her lettuce. “I think that they all might be like that. Nicki certainly was that way for me.”
I chuckle. “I’m sure that was different. You had just graduated high school when you got together. You both were just kids.”
She nods. “Yeah. Maybe he’d be more like Viktor if…” She cut herself off, looking down at her plate. Suddenly, I feel like shit about going on about Viktor.
She takes a breath and sets down her fork again. “Anyway, I’m glad we’re talking about Nicki. There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you. I’ve been waiting until I was sure I knew what I was going to do, and now that I am sure, I think it’s probably a good idea for me to give you a heads up.”
I frown as I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Uh-oh. That sounds serious.”
“It is,” she says. “You know how a few weeks ago I asked you how likely it is that you or your father might be caught in the crossfire if it was discovered that Nikita’s death wasn’t an accident?”
“Oh, shit, Marla.” I had a sneaking suspicion that that conversation wasn’t as innocent as she was making it out to be. “You did something, didn’t you? We talked about this. A bunch of times.”
“I know, and I’m going to be honest with you. I was ready to let it go, finally. It’s been seven years, right?”
“Okay, so what’s going on? Why can’t you let it go?”
She turns to her purse, sitting on the seat next to her, practically abandoned before this moment, and pulls out a manila envelope. My stomach sinks as she pushes her plate to the side and pulls out a small stack of papers.
“Oh, Mar,” I say. “What did you do?”
“The car that he was driving,” she says. “I got to thinking that maybe there was a missed recall or something. The police report said that there were no tread marks leading up to the railing when the car went through it and down into the ravine.” She points to the report. The paper is yellowed and thin from age. She pushes it toward me. “So, I decided to ask an expert. I took my car to a local mechanic—somebody without any Bratva ties. Totally independent. And I asked him about Nikita’s car?—”
“Marla, listen to how you sound?—”
