Her Russian Brute: 50 Loving States, Idaho (39 page)

The bedroom was now empty. Its door standing open, knocked off one hinge in ominous testament to the fact that someone had aggressively barged inside. Before leaving.

No, Sam thought to herself. No! No! No!

She ran through the broken door, down the narrow hallway, and into the living room, her shoes crunching over the broken glass as she rushed outside onto the wide expanse of lawn that sat between her and the shelter.

Only to stop short.

Pavel was standing in front of the back entrance to Ruth’s House… having what looked like a solemn conversation with Nikolai Rustanov. At least she thought it was Nikolai Rustanov. He was turned to the side and had swapped his tuxedo for a black pea coat and skull cap. In fact, he was dressed all in black as if he’d set out to match the large black Escalade parked, not in one of the special parking spots for Ruth’s House, but on the lawn itself with the passenger door hanging open, as if he’d skidded to a stop and leapt out.

But even turned sideways, she knew it was him, if only by the sharp planes of his face, like a gargoyle come to life.

She stood there, mouth unhinged, trying to figure out what was going on before she approached the unexpected scene. Back Up, though, wasn’t nearly as wary. She barked happily and ran over to Pavel, nearly knocking the poor boy down in her eagerness to lick him after a whole five, possibly ten, minutes apart.

Nikolai watched the scene with narrow eyes, his body tense as if he were trying to figure out if Back Up was a danger to Pavel. He must have decided she wasn’t, because his head swiveled towards Sam as she also came running across the lawn toward them.

The only evidence that he recognized her was a slight widening of his hooded eyes, before his face went to another setting, one that rearranged the harsh planes of his face into an expression of angry accusation.

“This,” he said, his voice dangerous and low. “This is what you call taking care of my nephew?”

S
AM didn’t know
how to feel about Nikolai Rustanov staring down at her. Confusion, relief, and defensiveness were all putting in bids to be her main emotion. But in the end it came down to Pavel.

She fell to her knees in front of him, hugging the little boy to her.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

“I’m fine, Mama. The bad guy didn’t get me because Uncle Nik came and chased him away.” His eyes filled up with delight as he informed her, “Mount Nik is my uncle! I can’t believe it.”

“Me either,” Sam said, trying to keep her shit together. Was it true? Were they really both still here, alive and totally unharmed? She hugged Pavel to her again. She couldn’t believe how close she’d come to losing him tonight. “How lucky your uncle came here to meet you.”

She could feel Nikolai’s angry eyes watching her hug his nephew and knew he must be jumping to all sorts of conclusions about her fitness as even a temporary custodian. “Why don’t we all go inside Ruth’s House,” she suggested. “Call the police and maybe we can talk while we wait for them to get here.”

But Pavel pulled back, still stuck on the whole uncle reveal. “Papa said Mount Nik was his brother, but I thought he was lying. If my uncle was a famous hockey player with lots of money, why…”

He didn’t seem to know how to finish that sentence. But he didn’t have to. The haunted look in his eyes said more about what he had been through as the neglected son of a drug addict than words ever could. His eyes filled with tears and he buried his head in Sam’s shoulder, turning them both so his back was to his uncle. His uncle, who he didn’t want to see him cry.

Sam’s heart broke for the boy. She’d never seen him shed as much as a tear in all that had happened and she wrapped her arms around him tight, wanting to reassure with hugs that everything would be all right.

Back Up apparently felt the same way. But since she didn’t have a pair of arms she could wrap around the little boy, she settled for gently nudging his back with her wedge-shaped forehead.

“I did not know.” The words came hard and flat from above them. “Your father did not tell me.”

Pavel shook his head against Sam’s shoulder, refusing to look up at his uncle. “I prayed for him to be real. I prayed for him to be the truth. But Mount Nik never came for me.”

“Pavel…” Sam started.

“Now I am here,” Nikolai said, his tone impatient. “And do not call me Mount Nik. You are my nephew. Not fan. You may call me Uncle Nikolai or Uncle, but not silly nickname.”

Sam glared over Pavel’s shoulder at him. Was he seriously quibbling about what Pavel called him after all he’d been through?

As if to confirm her suspicions about his abject unfitness to parent a traumatized child, Nikolai said, “You will stop crying and come now to my home. Your proper home.”

Sam scrunched her face, not bothering to hide her irritation from Nikolai.

“He’s been through a lot tonight,” she informed the large hockey player. “He can cry if he wants to.”

“It is not Russian way to cry so many tears.” He frowned down at Pavel. “I see Fedya did not teach you to be man in all things. This is something I will correct.”

What. The. Hell.

“Are you kidding me with this man BS?” she hissed at Nikolai. “He’s been through more in four days than most kids go through in a lifetime! You might want to cut him a little slack.”

Something ticked in Nikolai’s jaw, but to his credit he abandoned the subject of his eight-year-old nephew’s masculinity… in favor of the subject of her guardianship.

“This should not have happened. You did not keep him safe.”

Pavel stiffened inside Sam’s embrace and pulled away from her so he could address his uncle. “Mama was only trying to protect me. You can’t be mad at her.”

A new tension entered the air and Nikolai’s eyes turned to her. “Why he is calling you mama?” he asked.

Okay, and now she was embarrassed on top of feeling defensive.

“Because… Well, I’m not exactly sure, but it’s one of the things I definitely plan to address as we progress with his healing. You see I’ve been counseling Pavel in the aftermath of this traumatic event and—”

Nikolai cut her off with a dismissive sound. “You Americans and your therapy.”

Sam came to her feet then, no longer able to keep herself from fully confronting this asshole. “So what? You want him to stay traumatized?” she asked him.

“I want him to be safe!” Nikolai roared, coming toward her with his finger pointed down at the ground. “Do you know what could have happened to both of you if I not come here?”

“It’s not her fault, Uncle!” Pavel insisted, coming forward to get in between Sam and Nikolai. “Don’t yell at her!”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Sam said to Pavel, her heart beating faster as all the alternative scenarios of how this night could have ended unfolded inside her head. Both her and Pavel dead. No one to take care of Back Up. He was right. If he hadn’t come here…

An icy wind blew through their haphazard triangle and Sam shivered.

“Your uncle’s just upset. As anyone would be if…” she trailed off, trying and failing to come up with some kind of silver lining for the situation. “But it’s okay now.”

Sam must not have been very convincing, though, because Back Up pushed her face into Sam’s legs, as she often did when she sensed Sam was troubled and might need a cuddle session with her favorite bullie.

“It’s okay,” she said, bending down to stroke Back Up’s short coat. “We’re all okay.”

Nikolai regarded her with those cold, green eyes. “My nephew will not stay here. You cannot keep him safe. Now he will come with me.”

“No! I want to stay here with Mama!” Pavel screeched. “And Back Up. I can’t go with you. I have to stay with Mama! I can’t...”

As much as Pavel seemed to relish having his favorite hockey player turn out to be his uncle, he now seemed on the verge of hyperventilating at the thought of being taken away from his new home.

His rising panic diverted all of Sam’s attention away from Nikolai and back to the little boy. She squatted down in front of him, looking directly into his stricken eyes.

“It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay. Just breathe. Match what I’m doing.” She breathed deep, in and out through her nose. “Match my breath, honey. You can do it.”

The boy did as she said, his breaths coming out short and too fast. But eventually they slowed and deepened, the panic fading from his expression. Which Back Up took as an invitation to trot forward and begin licking the tears off his face.

“Back Up!” Pavel exclaimed with a laughing screech. “No, don’t lick me. Now isn’t the time for licking. Tell her, Mama.”

Sam shook her finger at her overly affectionate bullie. “You heard him. Back off, Back Up.”

Back Up whimpered, but her words sent Pavel into a fit of giggles, making him look his very young age.

“Back off, Back Up,” he repeated, appreciating the goofy word play in a way that only a child could.

She glanced at the hockey player who looked more than a little confused now, like he didn’t quite know what to make of the scene or how to handle it.

“You name dog Back Up. What sort of name is this?” he asked her.

Sam shook her head at him, truly disappointed. “You haven’t seen
Veronica Mars
either?!?! No wonder it got cancelled too soon.”

More confused looks, then Nikolai’s mouth drew back into an impatient sneer. “Pack his bag,” he snarled at her. “He will come with me.”

“No!” Pavel cried out. He clung to Sam’s neck. “Tell him he can’t take me from you, Mama!”

Sam took his hands before he could start panicking again. “Do you trust me?” she asked the little boy.

“But—” Pavel started.

“Pavel, it’s a yes or no question,” she said. “Do you trust me? Yes or no?”

A frown quivered on Pavel’s lips but nonetheless he answered, “Yes.”

Right answer. She gave him a reassuring smile and said, “Okay, good. Then stand by my side while I talk with your uncle.”

“Okay,” Pavel said, his voice still watery with tears.

This time when she stood up to talk to Nikolai Rustanov, she kept her arm around Pavel’s shoulder and she didn’t let the dark scowl on his outrageously handsome face intimidate her. Pavel needed her and there was no way she was going to let him go home with a man who thought it was unmanly for a boy who just lost his father and had come close to being killed just a few minutes ago to cry.

To his credit, Pavel stayed quiet this time, burying his face in her waist.

As if to affirm her assessment of him, Nikolai said to Pavel. “Get your face out of her waist, boy. You are too old to hide in woman. I have much to teach you.” He said this with a sneer, like the sooner he got Pavel away from her, the better.

To Sam’s surprise, Pavel actually did as he said, standing up straight beside her like a soldier.

The whole situation made her want to cuss Nikolai out for being an insensitive bastard. But instead, she kept her hand on Pavel’s shoulder, letting him know he could lean on her whenever he needed.

“Tell me more about your house,” she said to Nikolai. “I know about the ridiculous gates, but I’m assuming you’ve got a state-of-the-art security system, too.”

“
Da
, I do.
And you don’t
,” he reminded her.

She just nodded with approval, refusing to let him bait her into another argument.

“And would you be willing to invest in a security guard, just until we can get the people who hurt Pavel’s father behind bars?”

He crooked his head and eyed her like he was trying to decide if she was being over protective or naïve.

But in the end he said, “Of course, I will hire security guard to keep him safe when I cannot.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said, flashing him a bright and happy smile.

He did not smile back. In fact, there was a whole lot of suspicion in his eyes when he said, “So you agree? Pavel will come home with me now.”

“Alright, alright” she said, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender, like she’d finally decided to give in. “You’ve made a strong case here today. We’ll all move in with you tonight, okay?” She rushed on before he could protest. “But before I start packing I need to know, do you have stuff like dog food and a water bowl at your place, or should I just bring what I have?”

T
HE woman
in the emerald dress, the one whose name turned out to be Sam, was completely infuriating. Not only had she somehow brainwashed his nephew into calling her mama, she’d also invited herself along with her useless dog to move in with him—right before she insisted on calling the police to file an official report.

And by the police, she’d meant her boyfriend. The cop who’d wanted her to get rid of Pavel in the first place.

He’d come running to the scene after the rest of the black and whites arrived, grabbing Sam and gathering her up in his arms. Lovers reunited, Nikolai thought with a dark sneer as he watched them, now standing on her front porch. Her with her hands on his chest, him with his forehead resting against hers as he said something Nikolai couldn’t hear.

They were a well-matched couple. Him just a few inches taller and attractive in the same way as she. Like the proverbial Latino boy and black girl next door had decided to start going together. He even had a matching set of dimples.

Nikolai wanted to rip the guy away from her, shove him to the ground, and warn him off going anywhere near her ever again.

She’s mine.
The two words popped unbidden into his head, startling and untrue.

Startling because he’d never felt possessive of a woman—especially one he hadn’t slept with—before. And untrue, because obviously she was with the cop.

No wonder she hadn’t taken him up on his balcony invitation. No wonder she’d run away, despite the passionate kiss they’d shared.

“You should go.”

Nikolai looked down. Pavel was staring straight ahead at the woman he called ‘mama’ and her cop boyfriend, but he was talking to Nikolai.

“The detectives asked us all of their questions,” said the little boy who looked almost exactly like Fedya had at that age, despite his kinky hair and much darker skin. “Let Mama take me to your house. Then you can deal with the bad guy.”

Nikolai nodded in solemn agreement with the little boy. He might look like Fedya, but Pavel had already proven himself to be way more sensible than his addict brother, from the moment Nikolai had pulled up behind Ruth’s House and seen the child running across the lawn like a bat out of hell.

Contrary to what the social worker seemed to believe, the boy was no delicate flower. After filling him in quickly on what was happening after a brief moment of recognition, Pavel had observed silently while Nikolai dragged a stout Russian in a leather bomber jacket out of the cottage. And the boy hadn’t so much as flinched as he watched Nikolai chokehold the man into unconsciousness before dumping the Russian into the back of his Escalade.

And now he was calmly giving him advice about dealing with “the bad guy” before he woke up, which made Nikolai wonder how much of the hysterical little boy act had been for Sam and how much of it was true. At that moment, Pavel reminded Nikolai less of Fedya, who’d always been the clingy sort and quick to tears, and more of himself as a young boy, watching Sergei do his dirty work with dead eyes.

“You should go,” the boy said again, as he watched the cop talk to Sam, a disapproving frown on his face. “Before the bad guy wakes up. Before the cop starts asking more questions.”

“
A
re
you sure about staying with Mount Nik, Sammy?” Marco asked her. All the other police officers had left by then after a set of detectives took their statements, but Marco had stayed behind to talk with Sam in an unofficial capacity—and because he was none too happy about her decision to move in with his favorite hockey player.

He rubbed her arms and bent his forehead to touch hers. “I’m glad you finally came to your senses about sending Pavel on with his uncle, but I don’t understand why you have to go with them,” he said.

How shocking, Sam thought. Marco was once again failing to understand how committed she was to Pavel getting the care and counseling he needed in the aftermath of not one, but two terrible events.

She brought her hands up to his chest to push him away, and reiterate how potentially traumatizing these last few days could be for Pavel if she didn’t intervene. But then she decided to cut him some slack. If Marco hadn’t sent Nikolai to her door, she might be dead now.

“I’ll be fine,” she said to Marco, resting her hands on his chest as she resisted the urge to put space between them. “And it’s just for a little while, until we get whoever came after us behind bars.”

A skeptical look came over Marco’s face and to Sam’s relief, he drew back from her. “I’ll bring you down to the station tomorrow to look at some pictures, but I don’t know how far that’s going to get us with both the kid and Rustanov saying they didn’t see the guy’s face clearly.”

Sam glanced at uncle and nephew, both standing a few feet away with their arms crossed in front of them. Pavel looked like a miniature version of his uncle, even though he was light brown and wearing a neon green anorak, while Nikolai was white and wearing a pea coat.

Nikolai met her glance with a hard stare, as if waiting for her to finish her conversation with Marco was the most annoying thing that had happened to him all day. Even more annoying than having to chase away some criminal who was trying to hurt her and his nephew.

His annoyed look made her feel annoyed in turn, yet she couldn’t look away from him. Why did he have to be so damn beautiful? There was something almost magnetic about his face, with all its chiseled angles and its long, sharp nose. Sam was surprised by how hard it was not to stare. Stare at him like he was currently staring at her.

“You know you don’t have to stay with Mount Nik…” Marco’s words broke the spell Nikolai had somehow cast over her, and Sam broke from the stare to look at the cop she now only considered a friend. He took a deep breath and said, “If you’re worried about having a safe place to stay, you could come back to my apartment for as long as you need. Then you could arrange counseling sessions with Pavel until Mount Nik finds him a permanent therapist. You don’t have to follow the kid.”

No, she didn’t, and there were plenty of places she could stay outside of Marco’s apartment. A hotel or even at Ruth’s House itself, since it had beds currently going unused. But she wasn’t naive. The system always tried to place children with their blood relatives when they could, and Nikolai Rustanov was a local sports hero. There was no way she’d be able to retain her temporary custody of Pavel. It was either move into Nikolai Rustanov’s place now or risk getting kicked out of Pavel’s life all together, because he was in his uncle’s physical custody.

She gave Marco a weak half smile and said, “Don’t worry about me staying with Mount Nik, Marco. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can but…” Marco trailed off, and she sensed there was something he wasn’t telling her.

“What, Marco? If there’s something you want me to know, tell me.”

He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s probably nothing. It’s just that Rustanov’s and the kid’s stories are
exactly
the same. Like they made them up together. Just maybe, I don’t know… keep your eyes open for anything off, and if you feel like there’s something weird going on, call me.”

“Sure. Okay, I can do that.”

Her easy acquiescence to his request seemed to reassure him. He cupped her shoulders and drew her a little closer. “And even if there’s nothing shady going on, call me. Just because you’re living with him doesn’t mean we can’t hang out. And it’s your turn to pay for takeout at my place next time, remember?”

Sam crooked her head, trying to figure out if Marco was seriously trying to finagle her into a sleepover date she really didn’t want—less than a few hours after she’d nearly been killed by some kind of Russian hit man.

“Uncle says it’s time to go, Mama!” Pavel called out to her from where he and Nikolai were standing.

Marco jerked a little, as if just now realizing Pavel was still there.

“Yeah, uh, you better go, but…” He turned out his pinky and thumb, making the universal sign for phone as he mouthed, “Call me, okay?”

Sam gave him a tight smile, saying, “Thanks for everything, Marco” before she walked away, unable to believe she’d ever been attracted to the self-absorbed cop, much less thought they’d be a good match.

She shook her head. Just goes to show how silly she’d been to think she could find a great guy and start a family like Josie had. She was on the brink of moving in with a hockey idol who’d pretty much introduced himself as Mr. One Night Stand. And he—not she—was the true custodian of the boy who’d come to feel like a child to her in an impossibly short time.

She’d never been farther away from realizing the dream she’d started spinning when she was Pavel’s age, blocking her ears from the sound of her stepfather’s yelling, and promising herself she’d never end up in an abusive relationship. It was as good of a time as any to accept some hard truths. She’d managed not to walk down the same path as her mother, but that didn’t mean she was slated for a happy ending. Vicious thoughts circled like sharks in her head as she walked toward Pavel. Women like Josie got happy endings. Women like her—the memory of her mother lying dead on the living room floor flashed across her mind, curdling her stomach—women like her had to settle for knowing when to get out of a bad relationship while the getting was good.