His (Ties That Bind #2) - Natasha Knight Page 0,61

so stupid. But there are only two things that hold any sentimental value for me in this house. The rest means nothing.

I make my way into my bedroom and pull the area rug back. I guess Vasily never thought to look here, but even if he had, I doubt he would care about the old black garbage bags stashed in my hole beneath the floorboards. There isn’t anything condemning about them, except for the fact that I’d kept them all these years, often sorting through them, hoping to get one last hint of her scent as it started to disappear. I don’t know that Kat will actually want any of the things in these bags, but it’s always been my goal to return them to her, just in case. It’s one of the only promises I’ve ever been able to keep, and I want her to have her belongings from the old apartment, even if it just means she decides to dispose of them herself.

Next, I make my way into the garage. The few boxes I had stored here have all been torn open and scattered about, but the contents of the old metal storage cabinet are still in there, on display with the doors wide open. To Vasily, they would have meant nothing. But to me, these are the link to my past. One of the only good memories I have. Things that my father and I made together, and hopefully, something I’ll be able to teach Josh someday too.

I look over the pieces, bits of rusty car parts welded into clocks, mirrors, animals, robots, or whatever my father was into at the time. Even after all these years, I think they still look pretty cool, and I’m banking on the fact that the public will too. My father had a dream of quitting his job at the steel factory and doing this full-time. That was before the days of online everything, but now it’s more feasible, and I think I’m going to take a solid crack at it. Right now, I just can’t imagine myself doing anything else.

After I’ve loaded up my car, I take one last look at the little house I used to call home. But it was never really home, and I realize that when I think about what’s waiting for me back in New York. But before I get back to my real home, I just have one last stop to make. I plug the address into my GPS, and twenty minutes later, I’m driving through one of the most decrepit neighborhoods in Philly.

As I consider that, I think maybe I’m not even the worst thing that will ever darken the doorstep of the woman I’m looking for. Maybe the fact that she lost everything and had to move here in the first place was a fitting twist of fate. But I don’t believe in karma. I never have. A man like me doesn’t leave anything up to fate. I make my own revenge, and I don’t regret it.

My GPS chimes, alerting me that the house is just up the block on the right. This doesn’t look like the type of area where anybody would call the cops to help their neighbor, but just in case, I park my car next to an abandoned grocery store. Studying the shadows on the street, I listen for any signs of life. It’s after midnight, and the only thing I can hear is the sound of a distant siren and a couple of alley cats establishing their territory as they skitter past me.

I move quietly, counting the houses and checking the mailboxes before I find the small, one-bedroom hole with a shoddy chain-link fence around it. There’s no security. Not even a dog. It makes my job easier, and when I slip around back, there isn’t even a goddamn deadbolt on the door. This woman is either very stupid or very na?ve.

It takes me all of a minute to jimmy the lock. And once I’m inside, the smell of decay burns my nostrils. The house is full of trash with dishes rotting in the sink and cigarette trays overflowing with ashes. It’s enough to make me want to puke, and I can’t even imagine Kat ever living in conditions like this. I can only hope that this happened after she lost her husband and her entire life imploded, which would be the only logical conclusion, given Kat’s previous descriptions of her. It’s only fitting that her entire