To say the atmosphere has been strained would be an understatement.
It’s been two weeks since I followed my brother and found him torturing Maksim after oddly buying his favorite food.
That was the detail that made me think that Anton’s position on this might be skewed. I thought he was unfeeling and couldn’t care less about what happened to Maksim. He certainly could win an Oscar for the performance he gave back in the military and in New York.
However, after the time the three of us have spent holed up in here, I’m starting to change my perspective.
One, Anton caught Maks when he was in hiding after Uncle Albert sent mercenaries after him, but he didn’t tell my uncle.
He kept him here so that he’s out of Uncle and Babushka’s reach. He said it was because he wanted to extract the answers from him, but I think he wanted to protect him.
Two, he put him in a very well-heated place that’s adequate to fight Siberia’s freezing cold and snow in late October.
Still, I can’t trust him since he actually tortured him.
The first few days, I stayed around most of the day, because Maksim was ill. He had a fever and needed constant attention.
However, whenever I attempted to wipe his body with a cold rag for the fever, Anton would push me aside and do it himself. He said I’m still his sister, and he doesn’t like me touching men.
I tried to explain that Maks is my friend and I don’t think of him that way, but Anton shut me up with, “No. I still don’t want to think about whatever you were doing with Kirill every time he kicked us out.”
If my heart wasn’t already too broken to feel, I’d be embarrassed at the prospect that my brother knew about Kirill and me all along.
He probably didn’t intervene because: A) he would’ve looked suspicious, and B) he thought all of that was part of my elaborate plan.
A plan whose result is to be broken to pieces, maybe. But I had no damn plan, and that’s the saddest thing about this.
Despite my attempts, Anton didn’t let me touch Maksim and was the one who singlehandedly took care of him while I started repairs upstairs.
But I did have to come back down to check that he wasn’t killing him when I wasn’t there.
Then he helped me with repairs, or more like, did whatever I told him to. Anton is surprisingly good with handiwork, a fact I didn’t know before. Maybe it’s because we grew up wealthy, so we never really had to work for ourselves.
But then again, Anton has had to enlist in the army and work in the mafia. Even though he did an excellent job at pretending he was a weakling combat-wise, in reality, he’s not.
For two weeks, we come here in the morning and leave by sunset. Uncle, Babushka, and Mike think we’re doing special training, so they never suspect anything.
Maksim gave us the silent treatment at first, so I brought cards and board games and tried to get him to talk.
Considering he’s a hopeless extrovert, it didn’t take him long to talk to me. Anton, however, is a different story. The only time they speak to each other is when they’re ready to rip each other’s hearts out.
It’s become worse ever since Maksim got better. We often find him pacing the basement like a caged animal.
He must really feel like one.
Maksim is a man who’s been around violence since he was young. He enlisted in the army at the age of nineteen. Spent four years there living his best life and then went to the mafia world, where he was tasked with mostly on-ground operations.
So now that he’s locked up, it’s like we’ve cut off his wings. But I really don’t see any other way to avoid conflict. If we let him go, he’ll go back to Kirill, and it’ll be a disaster.
Or maybe I’m merely trying to delay the inevitable.
Uncle Albert is already setting things in motion, and we’ll eventually go to New York to kill Kirill.
We just have to wait for his spies in the criminal organizations to put everything in place. It has to happen during an event at his house, because Anton and I know that place like the back of our hands.
And because justice is poetic, he’ll die in front of his family.
I’ll be the one who kills him. Not Anton. Not Uncle Albert. Me.
I chose this. It’s enough punishment for falling for the monster.
I probably won’t survive after I kill him, but who fucking cares?
What’s my future outside of revenge anyway? It’s just a pipe dream. I don’t remember what I wanted to be when I was a little girl. All I ever hoped for was to grow older with my cousins while escaping Mama’s scolding and Babushka’s cane.
Now, my sole purpose seems to have become revenge.
“Morning, Maks,” I greet as I get inside.
He grumbles under his breath, his eyes hard, and his muscles tense beneath his shirt. I can tell he’s on edge without him having to say a word.
“We need to do something,” he says. “If I spend one more moment in this place, I’m going to punch the wall.”
Judging by his bruised knuckles, I think he might have already done that.
“And no fucking board games,” he snaps before I manage to speak.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Anton warns from beside me.
Maksim narrows his eyes on him. “You. Fight me.”
I offer a placating smile. “I’m sure we can come up with something better…Anton!”
My brother is already removing his coat and stepping to the middle of the basement. Anton built him a new bed and we brought over a few weights and a TV, but apparently, those aren’t enough to entertain Maksim.
“What are you guys doing?” I try to get between them.
“Stay out of this, Sasha.” Maksim is talking to me, but his hawk-like attention is on my brother. “This is between me and the fake motherfucker.”
“Yes. Stay out. I’m going to put this insolent fucker back in his place—”
His sentence isn’t finished, and Maksim has already driven his fist into his face. “Not so fun when I’m not tied up and helpless, is it, asshole?”
Anton swings back with his own punch. Then they’re downright throwing each other against the wall, on the sofa, and to the floor as they exchange blows.
I give up trying to break up the fight a few minutes after they start. This might well be what they need to get whatever animosity is lurking out of their systems.
With a sigh, I sit down and rearrange the cards.
So much for making the basement a bit homey. It’s like a war zone now.
If we were in New York or even the army, Anton wouldn’t have stood a chance against Maksim, but that was only because he was hiding his actual ability. Now, however, he doesn’t hold back as he pummels Maksim into a corner.
My friend tackles him to the ground and slaps him across the face. No, he backhands him. Like Anton did to him before.
Anton growls and holds Maksim down, but it only lasts a second before they roll on the floor, hitting each other everywhere. Adrenaline must be stronger than whatever injuries they’re giving one another, because they keep going. There isn’t a sign that either of them will give up.
I go upstairs to grab a bottle of vodka and a couple of glasses. When I return, they’re still as energetic as ever. I pour myself a cup and sit at the small table to watch their fight with keen interest. I expect it to end any moment, but it doesn’t. It actually lasts for over half an hour before they finally collapse on the floor in the aftermath of the destruction they’ve wreaked.
Their harsh breaths, sweat, and the smell of blood lingers in the air, only interrupted by my casual sips.
“You guys get an A-plus for stamina.”
Anton staggers to his feet and kicks Maksim in the ribs. “I won.”
Maksim captures his ankle and brings him crashing back down—on top of him. “Like fuck you did.”
Anton fists his shirt. “Admit that you’re not a god, after all.”
“I am to you, dick.” Maksim throws him off and stands up, then walks in my direction and snatches the bottle of vodka and drinks right from it. “You watched, Sasha. I won, right?”
“Nonsense.” Anton takes the bottle and drinks straight from it, even though a few glasses are lying about. “Anyone with eyes could see that I got more points on you.”
“In your fucking dreams.” Maksim steals the bottle back and pours more alcohol down his throat.
“I’m not sure, to be honest.” I tilt my head to the side as they keep fighting over the vodka until they finish the whole bottle.
Both their faces are a map of bruises, cuts, and bleeding lips.
Maksim throws his weight on the seat beside me, dwarfing the wooden chair. “You obviously have nepotism issues.”
Anton sits on the chair on my other side, causing it to creak under his weight. “Watch your fucking mouth when you talk to her.”
“What are you going to do about it, motherfucker?”
“You—”
I slam my glass on the table. “Seriously, stop it. You’re giving me a headache. You’re like children.”
“The only man-child in this equation is your brother, who has small dick energy.”
“You speak as if your dick is all that impressive.”
“You know it is.”
“Okay.” I lift my hand. “Too much dick talk for my taste, and seriously, Tosha is my brother, and I don’t need these images.”
The latter closes his eyes as if he’s just realized he’s been talking about dicks in front of his sister. Which is surprising, considering he’s collected to a fault.
Maksim rattles him—or his rage toward him does.
Interesting.
Maksim hits my shoulder with his. “You lived with men for two years, and while you never participated in a dick measuring competition, you never flinched from it either.”
“Well, that was before I knew Yuri was actually my brother.”
“Guess I should feel like I’m in good company if he also managed to fool his own sister.”
“Stop talking about me as if I’m not here,” my brother says.
Maksim doesn’t look at him and, instead, smiles at me. “What type of game are we playing?”
“Don’t fucking ignore me.” Anton speaks so low that goosebumps erupt on my skin.
“Card game?” Maksim does a marvelous job of completely erasing him. “I prefer that over a board game.”
“Are you an attention whore?” Anton’s voice returns to normal.
Maksim raises his head slowly, the cards clenched in his fist. “The fuck you just say?”
My brother’s lips tilt in a smirk. “Take a hint already. She’s a woman and was never interested in you.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“What? You’re embarrassed that your crush turned out to be a woman?”
Maksim lunges up, and so does Anton. I lift myself in time to stop both of their punches. “Can you guys just chill for a minute?”
“You had no fucking right to reveal that,” Maksim grinds through his teeth.
“I don’t give a fuck.” Anton stares down at me. “Maksim is gay, and since he thought you were a man, he had a crush on you. Now, all his hopes are destroyed. Just like that.”
“You fucking—”
“Get out, Anton.” I push him.
“No.”
“I said get out.” I soften my voice. “Please.”
He grinds his teeth, but he heads to the exit.
My friend still wants to go after him, but I stand in his way. He walks into me, and since he’s a damn bull, I can’t keep him in place.
“Maks!” I push at his chest. “Ignore him. Anton was an asshole, but it’s not worth it. Besides, I don’t care whether you’re gay or straight or an alien. You’ll always be my friend.”
He breathes deeply and stops pushing me, a bitter smile appearing on his lips. “Thanks for the thousandth kick into the friendzone.”
“I’m a woman, so anything between us would be virtually impossible.”
“You say that as if it would be possible if you were a man.”
“I mean, you never know.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Sasha. You looked at Boss like he was your god.”
“That’s not…true.”
“Yes, it is.” He sighs. “I guess I wanted someone to look at me that way, too.”
I pat his arm. “I’m sorry I lied to you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“At least you didn’t mean to hurt me.”
“Anton is…” I pause, searching for the right word. “Not that bad. He’s just too inflexible.”
“If you continue to keep me locked up here, one of us will end up killing the other. You know it, he knows it, and I know it. Do the right thing, Sasha.”
“I…will think about it.”
“Think fast.” He pauses. “Also, I don’t believe Boss would ever orchestrate the death of children. He’s not that type of monster.”
“Save it, Maks.”
“I mean it. He dedicated his whole youth to protecting his siblings, including making them believe he didn’t give a fuck about them. A man like him wouldn’t murder children.”
A foolish part of me wants to believe his words, but Kirill killed that part in that cottage where I waited for him, not knowing what he had in store for me.
Maksim and I play a round of cards. But then Anton sends me an emergency text, and I have to leave a grumbling Maksim after giving him a hug.
I find Anton waiting by the snowmobile outside and hop on behind him. “Just so you know, that was an asshole move. You don’t just expose someone’s sexuality when he didn’t come out himself.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
“You’re really a bastard sometimes.” I shake my head. “What’s the emergency?”
“We might have to move up the attack date.”
My heart jolts. “We have a lead?”
“Yeah. Uncle is working out the details.” He pauses. “Babushka wants us to kill Kirill’s family before his eyes.”
I hop off the snowmobile and stare at him. “What are you talking about? We agreed we’d only kill Kirill.”
“Babushka doesn’t think the same.”
“Babushka is an old woman who doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about most of the time.”
“Watch it, Sasha. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Well, isn’t it the truth? She’s been in hiding all this time, and that’s skewed her mind. You and I went to hell and back and agreed that only Kirill would pay. Karina and Konstantin have nothing to do with this. And, actually, neither does Yulia.”
“We had nothing to do with the decision Papa and our uncles made, either, but we lost our whole family because of it.”
“You…agree with this?”
“It wouldn’t be poetic justice if he’s the only one who dies.”
“No, Anton! We’re not going to kill them. Karina is my friend, and so is Konstantin, for that matter.”
He narrows his eyes. “You left New York, but apparently, your heart is still there.”
“We’re not killing them, and that’s final.”
If I’m outvoted on this by both Babushka and Uncle, I’ll take things into my own hands.
