“I just need the money. She just needs to transfer the money,” he whines. His hand shakes, making the barrel of the gun shake.
“She’s not going to do that. You’re not getting a dime from her. You get nothing from now on.” Nikolai moves further into the kitchen, putting himself in front of me.
“You think I won’t shoot you?” Oliver’s hand is so shaky, if he pulls the trigger, who knows where the bullet will fly.
“I think you believe you will,” Nikolai states. “Put it away.”
“You’ve been using her. You’ve been fucking my little sister.”
“Your little sister has more strength, more bravery in her little fucking pinkie than you have in your entire fucking body. And if you speak badly of her one more time, I will cut your fucking tongue out right here in the kitchen.” Nikolai takes another calculated step toward Oliver.
Oliver looks panic stricken, confused. What should he do? He can’t run forward and if he tries to go out the back door he’ll just get trapped in the stairwell.
Nikolai takes this moment to easily snatch the gun from Oliver’s hand. He reaches back and tucks it into his slacks. He never touches his own gun strapped in his holster.
“Dad would be so humiliated if he knew what you did,” Oliver spits at me. It’s the last thing he says before Nikolai’s fist lands in the middle of his face.
I scream. Oliver crumples to the floor, completely knocked out.
“Oh, my god!” I hurry forward, but Nikolai catches me.
“He’s fine. He’s just unconscious,” he says.
“He was going to shoot me. How did you know he was even here?”
He looks down at me. “Do you really think you’ve been all alone these past few days? I’ve had someone watching over you. And I got a message that your brother was on his way here.”
Oliver is out cold, not moving. He looks almost peaceful as though he’s asleep.
“He’s my brother. I shouldn’t have been in any danger,” I say, still watching my older brother sprawled out on the kitchen floor.
“No, you shouldn’t have. But Oliver’s not a very good brother.” Nikolai has his phone out and taps away on it.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to see his phone.
“I’m having him picked up.”
“What are you going to do with him?” I shake my head. “No, you’re not taking him. Just leave him, I’ll figure out what to do. When he wakes up—”
“When he wakes up, he’ll be as pissed and as scared as he was when he got here. I knockedhimout, not his problems,” Nikolai responds. “I’m going to have him taken somewhere where he can calm down. Be sure there’s nothing physically wrong with him, and then figure out who he owes money to.”
“You don’t need to do that. I can’t pay you for your help.”
His eyes darken. “I wouldn’t take your money. And never offer it again.” His expression reminds me of the first night I tried making him take the ten grand I offered. It’s the same vibe now.
I swallow and move back from him. He still takes up all the space in the room when he’s near me. It’s hard to think, to breathe, when he’s so close. It’s too much. All of this is too much.
“Charlotte, look at me,” he says softly. He looks like he wants to touch me, to grab my chin and force my eyes to him. It would be so much easier if he did. If he would make me do it instead me doing it on my own.
When I lock gazes with him, the ache of the past week barrels down on me, and I want more than his hand on my chin. I want him wrapped around me. I want him to wash away all the pain, all the hurt, all the embarrassment today has brought.
“Yogi will be up here in a minute to take your brother with him. I promise you, no one is going to hurt him.” His words are controlled, while his eyes search me.
I nod. “Okay.”
“He admitted to being the one who set the fire. Your father’s friend… it wasn’t him.” I can only imagine what they did to him because of Oliver’s actions.
“Ivan betrayed my father in other ways. He sealed his fate with that,” he says.