Hurrying back into the kitchen, I announced, “Papa, it’s for you. Two scary guys who said it’s important and if you don’t see them right now, they will hurt us.”
Papa’s fork clattered onto his plate, fear flashing across his face. Mumbling under his breath, he got up from the table and left the room.
I regained my seat, but a tense silence filled the kitchen while we all listened to the raised voices coming from the front of the house. Several moments later, the front door slammed. Then Papa stormed into the kitchen and threw a fat manila envelope at Mom. “My ‘severance’ pay. They fired me, said I was stealing from them, the liars! They said the only reason they didn’t kill me was because I had a family. They even had the gall to say the money was for my lovely wife and sons who I didn’t deserve,” he spat in outrage.
Damien and I exchanged a worried glance while Mom cringed, staring down at the envelope. “You got fired?” she whispered. “But–”
“Fucking Popovs!” Papa snarled, cutting her off. “They’ll pay for this, you mark my words! They’ll pay!”
Papa stormed out the back door, slamming it behind him.
He didn’t return until much later, banging loudly into the house and waking everyone.
Then yelling drunkenly at Mom.
Damien appeared in the doorway to my room, his bottom lip trembling. “What’s going on? What’s wrong with Papa? I’m scared. Can I sleep with you?”
I hesitated, then motioned him in. He was only ten. Of course, he was scared. I was, too, and I was sixteen. “Yeah. Come on. Papa’s just drunk. Everything will be fine in the morning.”
Damien slid into bed beside me, huddling beneath the covers. He flinched as something crashed into the wall in our parents’ bedroom, then Mom’s sobs echoed down the hallway. We weren’t a touchy-feeling kind of family, but in that moment, I couldn’t resist offering my terrified little brother some comfort in this scary situation.
Wrapping an arm around his quaking shoulders, I awkwardly drew him into my side. With a quiet sob, he burrowed into me, his small arms latching around my waist as he clung to me.
Later, I would acknowledge I’d needed the comfort as much as Damien had.
And as the fighting continued on into the wee hours of the morning, the shouts and bangs and sobs filtering into my room, Damien and I huddled together on the bed, finding comfort in each other and our sibling bond, all the while terrified it would never end.
But end, it finally did.
Though I’d promised Damien everything would be fine in the morning, it wasn’t.
And from then on, things only got worse...
CHAPTER THREE
Adrik
Soon after joining the Bratva, I learned that the Popovs were nothing like my family. They were a closely-knit group, loyal to each other and the brotherhood. The men were protective of their women and treated them with love and respect.
Unlike my father, who enjoyed smacking Mom around and taking out his frustrations on her.
Family meant everything to the Popovs. And once you were accepted into the brotherhood, you were family, too. I’d never had anything like that before. Non-relations who treated me like true relations.Brothers.Acceptance was addicting, especially to a guy like me who’d never been accepted before.
Not long after my initiation into the brotherhood, one of the other soldiers dubbed me “Beast” and the nickname stuck. Honestly, I didn’t mind. It was better than “Ogre” or “Monster,” and it hinted at toughness. Wildness. Living on my own since I was seventeen and repeatedly having to deal with the cruelty of others had toughened me,hardenedme. The combination of my frightening looks and my quiet watchfulness made the name “Beast” quite apt, and people tended to keep their distance from me.
I preferred it that way.
I’d found a new family with the Bratva. A newlife.And I’ll admit I got a little caught up in that, even to the point that I forgot about Damien for a while.
Which was unforgiveable.
Three months had passed, and I now had a steady paycheck, food, clothes, and soon I would have enough money saved up to put a deposit down on an apartment. Until then, I was sleeping on Tim’s couch. Tim hadn’t held a grudge against me for kicking his ass that first night, and we were now becoming good friends. Yesterday, I’d even bought my first car—a Toyota Corolla—which gave me a new independence I’d never had before. Now I could go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted, without having to rely on someone else to get me there.
But as things fell neatly into place for me, I was struck with the guilty reminder that Damien was still waiting for me to honor my promise to him.
Because I’d done a stupid thing four years ago. And I’d paid dearly for that mistake.
As I tossed and turned on Tim’s couch that night, guilt and regret closed in, and the memory rose up to torment me…