Blaire and her grandmother sat alone on the family pew at the front. Their family of three had been reduced to a family of two. Against the backdrop of the sixty-foot cathedral ceiling, they both looked so tiny and vulnerable. Behind them, the huge church was packed, with standing room only. Hundreds of people had shown up to pay their respects—which was a testament to how Blaire’s grandfather had lived his life. According to the funeral pamphlet, his full name had been Edward Jonathan Asterdam.
The night this man died under my care, I hadn’t even known his full name.
Something was broken inside of me. I knew that. Which was why guys like me stayed away from women like Blaire. We weren’t good enough. I think part of me thought that if I saved Edward, if I got Blaire’s grandfather back for her, it would redeem me.
But I had failed. And as much as it felt like torture, I was committed to keeping my distance from her. I didn’t need to further fuck up her life, and it was guaranteed that my presence would.
Last night, Andrusha had casually mentioned that he had put a team together to watch the funeral from afar, and that he himself would be attending the service.
The thought of him being able to see her when I could not made me want to hit him.
He paused, looked at my face, and said, “It might help to have a second pair of eyes inside. You in?”
This morning I had put on the suit that I had worn to Andrusha’s wedding. By the time we made it into the church, there wasn’t even standing room in the back, and we were forced to stand with our backs against the stone wall along the side.
I repeatedly scanned the crowd for anyone dangerous, but instead, everywhere I looked, I saw nothing but a black sea of sadness and grief.
I could have prevented the pain of everyone here. But I’d failed.
My eyes returned to Blaire. Her face was upturned as she listened to the priest speak about her grandfather. She looked different. The Blaire I knew was sun-kissed, with wavy dark hair and a big smile. This Blaire looked unbelievably polished with her serene, solemn expression, expensive clothes and coiffed hair. One of the diamonds in her ears probably cost more than my truck. It had only been a week since I had seen her, but my memories of her face and smile were starting to go fuzzy. I tried to soak up every inch of her and commit it all to memory.
“See anything?” Andrusha murmured from beside me.
I scanned the room, the ceiling, the back balcony, but nothing was out of the ordinary. “No.”
“Me neither.”
My eyes were drawn back to Blaire. As if she could feel my stare, she slowly turned her head, scanning the crowd on my side of the church.
Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed me. I was trying to read everything on her face, trying to read how she felt when she saw me, but then she quickly turned back to face the front of the church. I watched the tip of her ear go pink.
Andrusha leaned over. “Well, that went well.”
I was clenching my jaw so hard my teeth hurt. “Leave it.”
But he didn’t leave it. When the service ended, Andrusha steered me toward Blaire and her grandmother.
“They’re talking to someone,” I told him, trying to avoid contact.
He herded me like a border collie until Blaire lifted her face toward us. Both she and her grandmother watched me approach. Only me. Because Andrusha had disappeared, like a ghost.
Motherfucker, I will kill him.
They both stood there, waiting for me to speak.
“I’m very sorry for your loss, ma’am,” I said to her grandmother. “You too, Blaire.”
Her grandmother looked at me with a blank expression. “I don’t know you.”
“Grandmother, this is Viktor. He was the man who helped me find grandfather.”
The women’s eyes opened in wonder. She stepped forward and grabbed both my forearms with surprising strength. “Thank you.”
I shook my head, unable to make eye contact with Blaire. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him. I wish I had.”
Her watery eyes looked up at me. “You brought my Blaire back to me.”
I was the one who took her away from you in the first place. I couldn’t handle this conversation. “Please take care.”
With one more glance toward Blaire, I started to move away with conviction in my stride.
“Viktor!”
The sound of her sweet voice made my feet stop. I didn’t turn around, but then her soft hand was on my arm as she came around to face me.
Her eyes were wide and her lips were parted as she studied my features, much like I was drinking in hers.
“Thank you for coming today.” Her voice was so soft.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to look somewhere over her head. “I’m sorry.”
She stepped a tiny bit closer. “I figured out the mystery of my grandfather and the ship. He had left me a note with his will telling me exactly where the drive was and who to give it back to.”
She looked so beautiful to me. “You figured it out without his help.”
She was staring at me with the softest green eyes. “It means so much to me that you are here. We are having the reception at a close family friend’s home. It’s the estate directly west of our place. I would like you to come.”
I would rather crawl on crushed glass for ten miles than attend that event. “Not a good idea.”
“Please, Viktor. Out of everyone who is coming, you’re the only one I want to see.” Her voice was soft and breathless as she pleaded her case.
Who was I kidding? I had walked through hell for this woman, and now I would attend a funeral reception for her. “I can come for a few minutes.”
She let out a rush of air. “Oh, thank you so much.”
My eyes dropped to her beautiful face. This woman deserved so much more than me. It was pathetic that she had to remind me that she needed my support. Support I seemed unable to give her. My shame made me look away again.
Someone appeared beside Blaire and touched her on the shoulder. “Blaire, your grandmother is asking for you.”
She spoke with incredible composure. “Thank you so much. I’ll be there in a moment.”
She turned back to me. “I need to talk to you. At the reception. Just for a couple of minutes, please?”
I was so drawn to her. Would my darkness swallow all her light? It had done a good job of that so far. The kindest thing I could do for her was disappear from her life, but when she looked at me with such vulnerability and hope, it folded me at the knees. “I promise I’ll be there.”
She rewarded me with the sweetest smile. “Thank you, Viktor.”
When she turned to walk away, this time it was me who turned to watch her, not moving until she had disappeared back into the church.
When I got into the passenger’s side of the car, Andrusha looked over at me. “How did that go?”
“We’re going to the funeral reception now.”
“I can drop you off.”
“You’re coming with me.”
Andrusha shook his head. “No—oh, no. That is not an option. I promised Olivia that I would make her waffles as soon as I got back. She’s already made the sauce. And she has whipped cream.”
I yanked my tie loose from my neck. “I’m not doing it alone.”
“Fuck me.” Andrusha started the car and he shot me a dark look. “I’m only doing this because you saved my life.”
The thought that I was cockblocking Andrusha with a funeral reception made me smile. “Shut up.”
“The things I give up for my fucking friends.”
“What kind of sauce?”
“Chocolate.”
“Don’t worry, I’m taking you to a place almost as good—you can eat as many egg-salad and tuna sandwiches as you want.”
He laughed out loud at that one. “Fuck you.”
We couldn’t see the home of the family friend from the road. The entire estate was lined with twelve-foot walls, and each car that passed through the iron gate was being checked against a guest list.
We were one car back, waiting for the line to move.
Andrusha broke the silence. “I’m expecting some fancy fucking sandwiches at this joint.”
“I think they’ll deliver.”
“Imagine having an exclusive guest list for your funeral.”
“There were hundreds of people at his service. At my funeral, I’d be lucky to fill the first pew.”
“You think just the first pew?”
“It would be touch and go.”
“What about the guy who works at the bakery? He likes you.”
“Gustav moved to Winnipeg to be closer to his daughter. She’s expecting twins.”
“What about the two waitresses at that diner on West Broadway? I bet I could convince them to show up.”
“The Starfish Diner?”
“Yeah.”
“That place closed last year.”
“Damn—did it really?”
“I go to Sunny’s on Fifth now.”
“Any good?”
“Well, it’s not waffles at home, but the coffee is usually hot.”
“From you, that’s a glowing recommendation.” He snapped his fingers. “What about that barista at the smoothie place? She likes you.”
“You’re going to order your Berry Blast and then ask if she’s free to come to my funeral?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
I nodded slowly. “She might come.”
“I bet if I offered enough free booze, people would show.”
I could feel the smile on my face. “You know, that might be your most thoughtful gesture yet.”
“I try.”
I put my hand on my chest. “I feel fuzzy inside.”
He lost the game first by laughing.
It was our turn to approach the gate. The guard ducked down to look at us both and then in the back seat. “Name?”
“Viktor Mikhailov and Andrusha Sokolov.”
He scanned his iPad. “Sorry, you’re not on the guest list.”
“This is a sign,” I told Andrusha. “We shouldn’t be here. Time for you to get some chocolate sauce.”
Andrusha told the guard, “Ask Blaire Asterdam.”
“She’s not to be disturbed, sir.”
Andrusha used his I’m-not-fucking-around tone. Which worked on everyone, including the guard. “Ask her.”
We watched the guard disappear into the guardhouse to phone the main house.
I tried to tempt Andrusha into turning the car around. “Waffles, chocolate sauce and whipped cream—all calling your name.”
Andrusha looked over at me. The guard had annoyed him. “We’re going to this damn reception if we have to crash it.”
The guard stepped out of the booth and waved Andrusha forward through the gate.
He looked at me. “Look. Another sign.”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“Damn straight it does.”
I glanced over at my closest friend. Maybe last week I had saved his life, but this week he had saved mine with his dry wit and his relentless needling that kept me from completely going to the dark side. At night, he sat beside me at the back of multiple strip bars while I silently drank and refused to look at the women on the stage. He hated strip clubs almost as much as me, but he endured my own form of self-torture alongside me.
He showed up at my place every morning with a smoothie and forced me to go for a run.
And the rest of the time, he worked alongside me to track down the lone sniper who didn’t seem to fit the rest of the puzzle. A sniper I couldn’t find.
“We won’t be here long,” I told him.
He gave me a critical look. “You take all the time you need.”
Blaire was occupied with her duties, so I stood at the peripheral of the large banquet room and watched her on the other side. Andrusha had gone searching for food.
She tucked a blanket around her grandmother’s lap. A tall, well-built guy seemed to be watching over them both. He left and came back with a box of Kleenex and then, on his second trip, came back with two steaming cups of something hot. On his third trip, he came back with two small plates of food that he discreetly set beside them. He had to be family.
Blaire and her mystery man had cocooned the older woman as best as they could. Already, people were hesitantly approaching with their cards and their hugs.
Andrusha returned to stand at my side.
“Did you find the food?”
“Catering is exceptional. You want something?”
“No.”
Everywhere I looked, I saw lavish jewelry and old money. Now Blaire and her male cousin were sitting on the couch.
“Shit.” Andrusha spun around so he was facing the wall, his back to the crowd.
“What are you doing?”
He gave me a regretful look and started speaking in Russian. “My judge is here.”
“Your judge?”
“Yeah, the douchebag who sent me to jail.”
My eyebrows shot up. “He’s here as a guest? A special friend of the Asterdams?” I started to look closer at the faces of the crowd. “Is that the mayor?”
He gave me a knowing look. “Your girl has connections.”
“She’s not my girl.”
“Pretty sure you can turn that around.”
I gave him a hard look. “She deserves better.”
He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, like that numb-nuts who’s been hovering over her since we arrived.”
“I thought he was a cousin or something.”
“Nope.”
He spoke with a lot of confidence. “How do you know?”
He froze for a moment as if at a loss for words, and then looked back over his shoulder. “He wasn’t even near the front of the church. If he’s family, why wasn’t he sitting in the pew with them? He wasn’t even in the second or third row.”
I watched the man murmur something to Blaire. Red-hot jealousy washed over me as I eyeballed the guy hard. This is what I wanted for her. I wanted her to find someone from her world.
I couldn’t let it go. “How do you even know who was in the first three rows?”
“I remember what I saw.”
I couldn’t argue. Andrusha noticed different shit than me. And once I had caught sight of Blaire, I hadn’t spent too much time studying those around her. “Maybe he’s a nice guy.”
“Maybe you need to grow a pair.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“I should mention that the battlefield of love is different from the one for war.”
“Thanks, Dr. Phil.”
A caterer paused in front of us, offering an appetizer. Andrusha helped himself as he spoke to the person with the tray. “Twenty bucks if you can discreetly find out the name of the guy sitting on that couch.”
Two minutes later, the guy returned and held out his hand. “Mrs. Asterdam called him Pierre.”
Her non-cousin was Pierre? Pierre, the guy who had been chasing her for years? Pierre, the guy who had flown to Hong Kong to give her thirty thousand? I had envisioned him to be some weak fraternity kid. I didn’t expect him to look like a linebacker.
Andrusha slipped him the money. “Thanks.”
The caterer paused. “For the record, the guy’s a piece of work. Super polite in front of the two women, but behind the scenes he’s like the worst boss you’ve ever had. He’s already made two servers cry, and he doesn’t even live here.”
I was done talking about Pierre. If I heard much more, I would have to do something about him.
“I need a drink. You want one?”
Andrusha shook his head.
I allowed myself one shot of vodka at the bar. The time had come for me to take one last look at Blaire and then commit to never seeing her again. I would walk out of here with my dignity intact after saying a respectful goodbye. I needed to give Andrusha a break from my nightly seedy penance—tonight, I would skip the bar and drink at home.
To avoid the crowd of people talking in the foyer, I cut through the side room that had all the catering. Most of the room was empty except for some staff refreshing the trays on the tables.
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage?” a voice asked from behind me.
The cocky male tone made me stiffen. I turned around. It didn’t shock me that it was Pierre. What shocked me was how happy I was that he had confronted me. Like him, I wanted something concrete to push back against.
“If it isn’t our family friend, Pierre. Blaire told me all about you—she kept stressing that you’re like a brother to her.”
“At least I didn’t let her grandfather die on my watch.”
I ground my teeth.
He was watching me closely. “I wish she’d let me hire a professional security team that had some skill. Instead, she hired mall cops who got in way over their heads. The fact that you thought you could protect this family cost them. You’re a junkyard dog, and you should stick to patrolling junkyards.”
“Piss off, frat boy.”
“You think you’re so tough, but the reality is you’re a failure.” He gave a short laugh. “You have the audacity to let your clients be killed, and then you have the nerve to still charge them. You’re not a man—you’re pathetic. How many people have been killed on your watch?”
He was hitting my deepest nerves. I clung to the one lie in his statement as I took a menacing step toward him. “I didn’t charge her or this family for anything.”
“We both know you did. Why are you even here? Are you here for more money? Did you show up today to squeeze more blood from that stone? That’s so fucking sad.”
I felt deep unease. “Shut up with the bullshit.”
“You and I both know that your partner brought over an invoice for several tens of thousands of dollars. And Blaire, even though she was devastated, took it. She’s knows it’s unfair to have to pay you, but she’s scared of you.”
With a roar, I charged toward him and shoved him backwards across the room. He caught himself on one of the folding catering tables, which nearly flipped. Half of the silver trays slid off as he grappled with the tablecloth to find his balance.
Food splattered everywhere, and the sound of breaking dishes sounded around us.
He caught his footing, and then he charged me. With his hands on my throat, I staggered backwards, out of the room, into the foyer. Around us, people screamed and scrambled to get out of our way. The marble floors were slippery beneath our wet dress shoes. It was like fighting on ice.
I pulled his suit jacket over his head to blind him.
He responded by tucking his body and driving his shoulder into my sore abdomen. More people screamed. I felt my footing go beneath me and then he tackled me, his weight coming down on my hurt ribs.
The pain was breathtaking.
He crawled on top of me and starting swinging. The first hit is always the worst.
Pierre was a big guy, but I knew I could knock him out with one easy swing. He hit me again. Did I really deserve to fight back? Wasn’t it poetic justice that he tackled me at the funeral reception of Edward Jonathan Asterdam, the man who had died on my watch? After my failure, didn’t I deserve his anger and his fists?
He hit me again. The fact was, I was weak. I didn’t have it in me to let Blaire go like a real man would. I was struggling to let her spend the rest of her life with someone like this.
“Is that all you got?” I grunted. “You hit like a little kid.”
He got four more solid hits into my face before someone tackled him off me. I lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling. Above me was the most beautiful chandelier I’d ever seen.
Beside me, I could hear Andrusha’s fists connecting with Pierre’s face.
I could feel the warm blood flowing off my face onto the cool marble floor beneath me.
The pain was welcome. For a moment, it overrode my guilt and shame.
Her face appeared over mine, and tears were in her eyes. “Oh my god, you’re so hurt. Viktor!”
“Don’t touch me, Blaire.” I somehow managed to sit up. When I did, people standing around all gasped when they saw my face.
Three security guards appeared at the door. They first devoted their attention to lifting Andrusha off Pierre. And then two of them lifted me onto my feet, which was welcome because I was feeling pretty punch-drunk.
“Time for you two to go.”
It gave me perverse pleasure to see Pierre lying on the ground, holding his bloody face. “They attacked me, both of them. They’re animals.”
A sob escaped Blaire.
I found the strength to tell her the words I didn’t mean. “He’s telling the truth. You need to stay away from me.”
I avoided looking at her as the guard shoved me toward the front door.
Andrusha was steaming mad as he walked, and I limped, back to the car. “Why did you let that punk hit you? You should see your face.”
I didn’t answer.
“You let that stupid little fuck kick your ass? And you’re letting him steal your girl while you slum it in the strip bars? Why? Why are you punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault?”
He was my responsibility—and I failed. “Did you give her an invoice?”
He stopped walking. “I don’t know what that sniveling little weasel told you, but it’s a ruse. She’s not going to pay it. She did that strictly to keep the cops off our ass—and it was her idea. And for the record, I tried to say no to her, but she’s impossible to argue with.”
I tried to smile, but my face hurt too fucking much. “That’s pretty smart.”
“It’s helped our case, and you know I would never take her money.”
“I know.”
Andrusha stopped so short in front of me I nearly walked into him. “I think we have a problem.”
I stepped around him. Three perfect bullet holes marred the front windshield of his car. The car seats looked like they had imploded.
I opened the car door and studied the seats. “This is from a long-range rifle.”
“Our friendly neighborhood sniper.”
I needed to get my head out of my ass. “Now I’m pissed.”
Andrusha gave me an exasperated look. “It’s about fucking time.”
