The whining sirens of the cop cars parked outside Dmitry and Brianne’s house is the only response from the universe.
I watch as the female cop who had taken custody of Nikolas ushers him into an unmarked detective’s car. She circles around to the front, gets in, and they drive off, disappearing around a corner.
I will not forget that promise to my brother, either. His blood is my blood. His family is my family. And now, his son is mine to care for.
I feel a tap on my shoulder jostle me from my thoughts and turn around. It’s the cop I’d first encountered when I rolled onto the site, the man directing the evidence crews crawling around every corner of the house.
His eyes are furrowed in dark suspicion as he looks me over. “You know, you’re lookin’ a little ashy there,” he drawls. “Mind telling me where you were tonight?”
My first instinct, like always, is to stab the disrespectful motherfucker through the jugular. What a simple pleasure it would be to cut down an enemy right now. This has been a night filled with swinging and missing. With arriving too late. And it would feel so goddamn good to lay my hands on someone who deserves to be hurt.
But I don’t reveal any of these dark thoughts as I stare blankly back into the man’s searching gaze. As always, my first inclination towards violence isn’t exactly the subtlest or most appropriate of responses, no matter how good it would feel. So I force the urge back down into the dark place it belongs, and give the officer an icy smile, devoid of emotion.
“I was cleaning my fucking chimney, sir,” I snarl. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go finish the job.”
He starts to snap something back, but I wrench the throttle open and drown out his words with the roar of my motorcycle. The smoke of burning rubber from the back tire stings the man’s eyes and he hacks a cough instead. I take that as my cue to leave.
With a mocking tip of an imaginary hat, I shift gears. The tire engages with the pavement and I feel the pleasant tug of speed yanking me forward into the night.
It’s just like before, when I first left Daniella back at the mansion. The sensation of acceleration is soothing, reductive. It strips everything unimportant and leaves only me, open and aware like an exposed nerve.
But this time, there’s no getting rid of the stain of sadness that’s clinging to me. I can’t outrun it, no matter how fast I drive.
It seems I can’t outrun bad news, either, because I’m hardly five minutes away from Dmitry’s house when I see the blinking light in my heads-up helmet display that indicates an incoming call. I growl and tap the button to answer it. “Speak.”
It’s Timofei. His voice is ragged with panic. “We got hit, boss,” he rasps. “The Albanians. Another one.”
“Fuck,” I swear. “How bad?”
“Total loss. You need to get here, sir. Ninety-fifth and Columbus.”
“I’m on my way.”
With a soundless roar into the night, I wrench my bike around one hundred and eighty degrees and head towards the site of yet another catastrophe.
4
Victoria
Holzman Hospital smells like bleach and death.
I’ve always hated the place. Growing up, Dad was the kind of parent that rarely took me to the doctor. He figured most things could be solved with a couple ibuprofen and some ginger ale. Things had to be bad to come to the hospital.
Things are really bad right now.
I bounce my knees and look up at every nurse that passes, hoping that one of them will come up and tell me that everything is going to be okay. My mind races with all kinds of possibilities.
On the ambulance ride to the hospital, Dad was unresponsive. When I squeezed his hand, hoping to feel him squeeze back, I found nothing but a limp, cold chill.
They wouldn’t let me any further than the hallway, and seeing him wheeled away for what could be the last time was the worst feeling in the world. Even now, thinking about it makes me want to cry.
This can’t be happening. Dad may have his problems, but he doesn’t deserve this.
Thoughts race through my head. What happened to him? Who would do something like this to my dad? He doesn’t bother anybody. He causes himself some issues every now and then when he’s been drinking, but he was on his way to meet me at the bar after work. He