“I’m sorry,” she says softly as we slide into the car, reaching for my hand as I sit beside her. “He’s your brother. This can’t be easy–”
“You watched your father die not all that long ago.” I glance over at her. “It’s the world we live in, I suppose. We were both born into it, and we can’t seem to escape.”
“I never knew him.” Sasha gives me a sad smile. “It was hard in its own way, I suppose, but I never spent time with him. It wasn’t a betrayal, just a–a disappointment. This–” She swallows hard, squeezing my hand. “I can’t imagine how hard this must be.”
The closer we get to the estate, the more bottomless the pit in my stomach feels, roiling with that betrayal that Sasha spoke of, and anger and guilt and hurt all mixed together into an awful, terrible miasma that I can feel spreading through my veins. I feel sick with it, but not nearly as sick as I feel when Levin turns down the long road leading to the estate, and I see faint wisps of smoke in the distance.
“Drive faster,” I tell him urgently, my desire to take as long as possible getting there replaced by the need to find out what the fuck is happening up ahead. Levin complies, putting his foot on the gas as the car lurches forward, and I feel Sasha leaning up next to me, too, her face pinched with worry.
“Fuck,” I whisper as we come around the corner, the source of the smoke in sight.
It’s not new. It’s been burning for a while. Ahead of us is the remains of what was once my family home, now charred and crumbling, the grass around it scorched in a black arc that makes my stomach turn.
Levin stops the car a good distance from the back of the house. “Go ahead and get out,” he says quietly. “I’ll circle back around and meet up with the few members of your former security I was able to get on board with this. I’ll have an ear out. Just keep to the plan, and don’t do anything reckless.”
I nod, and Sasha does, too, her fingers tightly locked with mine.
It’s easier said than done when we come down the path, and I see Art on the front lawn in front of the still-smoking house, Giana and Tommas held at gunpoint in front of him.
We stop a good distance away, my heart hitting hard in my chest as I look at the brother I no longer recognize.
“Did you do this?” I gesture towards the house. “What is the point, Art? What does this achieve?”
Art glowers at me. “It should have beenmine,” he snarls. “After our brother died, it should have been mine to do with as I wanted. Now I’ve found a way to take it all, and I’ve decided what I want is to burn it all to the ground.”
He pushes the gun against Giana’s head, and I see her eyes close, her lips whispering a silent prayer as Tommas’ jaw clenches. “The deal,” he snaps. “Bring her here, and we’ll get started.”
“We’ll be okay,” Sasha whispers, her voice somehow hopeful despite everything, and it’s the only thing that makes my feet move forward. The idea of taking her back into danger after all we fought through seems like the worst kind of torment, but I recognize that it’s something else, too.
I’m letting her have a say in how this story plays out instead of making all the choices myself. It’s a kind of courage I hadn’t expected to have to find. It had been easy to be a courageous man, a violent man, a bloody man, when I told myself that I was doing it for her, to protect her. The sacrifices had felt good, right.
It’s harder to walk with her towards the possibility of loss, to face down this looming danger because it’s what she asked of me. To stay by my side until the end, regardless of the sacrifice.
To accept the possibility that in order to stay together, we might have to lose.
I hardly recognize my brother’s face when we’re close enough for me to see him clearly. I look past Giana and Tommas, past their terrified and angry expressions, and look at the man who I grew up with, with whom I share countless memories, who I once thought would be a part of my life in some way forever.
His face is the same as I remember, but I no longer know who I’m looking at.
“Kneel down,” Art snaps, gesturing at the grass. “Both of you.Now.”
His tone brooks no argument, and for once, I’m willing to obey. It’s rapidly becoming clear that he wants to savor this, to draw it out, and that gives Levin more time to make his play. The more Art postures, the more of a chance we have.
Slowly, Sasha and I both kneel down in the grass. The courtyard is to our right, the burbling of the fountain still carrying on, as if the house beyond wasn’t burnt to a crisp. It feels laughable, and I see Sasha bite her lip, as if she’s thinking the same thing and trying to hold back the threatening hysterics. Sasha’s fingers are still linked through mine, and I see Art’s gaze flick to our joined hands, a sneer curling his lip.
“Let go of her,” he growls.
“That wasn’t part of the deal–”
“I’m making it part of it now,” Art retorts. “Let go of her fucking hand.”
I catch Sasha’s tiny, almost imperceptible nod. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, to let go of her hand for what might be the last time, but I do it.Don’t do anything reckless,Levin had said, and I know that includes choosing something seemingly so small as the hill I want to–quite possibly literally–die on.
At the moment, though, it doesn’t feel small.
“Good,” Art hisses. “Finally, you’re listening to me. We could have saved so much grief earlier, if you’d listened to me before. If Edo had listened to me.” He glances at Sasha. “What a waste to send her off to be killed. Tragic. So fucking pointless. All I did was ask for her, and he couldn’t even give me that.”
He grins broadly then, looking us up and down. “But I won, in the end. And now, I get to stand here and think of how I want to do this. Do I want to go ahead and get shooting you over with, Max, so I can take Sasha back to a comfortable soft bed and enjoy her as I please? How much she warms up to it will depend on whether or notsheenjoys it, of course, but that’s up to her. I’ll enjoy it regardless.”