Russian Roulette (Russkaya Mafiya) (22 page)

Tate studies me for a moment, unsure, “Doc, ahh, wants to talk to you about something by yourself, is that okay with you? I can stay if you’re more comfortable.” I give him a puzzled look. What on earth does the doctor need to talk to me about?

“No, stud, it’s okay. I’ll talk to Dr. Hopkins and then we can finally go home.” Tate nods at us and walks out of my room, closing the door behind him.

“What’s up, sir?”

“Well, may I sit, Emily?” He peers over at me, uneasily.

“Yes, sir, of course.”
Shit. Am I dying or something?

“Thanks.” He takes a seat in the chair next to the bed. I sit up and scoot to the end of the bed, closer to him, in my pajamas decorated with Batman symbols. Tate thought they were hilarious, but we all know Batman is hot.

Dr. Hopkins continues, “You see, I wanted to talk to you not about the accident exactly, but about the person who ran into the vehicle you were in.” He steeples his fingers under his chin as he says this and I notice a shiny silver watch on his wrist I’ve never seen before. Doctor Hopkins has good taste in watches. Shit what did he say? This medicine makes me a little loopy.
Focus, Emily.
Oh right, the idiot that hit us.

“You are aware that she is staying in this hospital as well? I believe Mr. Masterson already informed you, correct?”

“Yes, Tate told me about it when I first woke up.”

“Right, that’s good. Well, you see I was also her doctor because her injuries were so severe. This is all privileged information that I wouldn’t normally ever give out. It’s just that the circumstances are, well, they are just unlike anything I’ve dealt with in the past. Putting the legalities aside, I feel I have no choice but to share a few things with you.”

“I have to be frank with you, Doc. You’re kind of freaking me out right now.”

“I assure you Emily, that is not what I’m attempting to do here. I’ll share a little amount and we will go from there, okay?” I nod, uneasily.

“The patient, I had to restructure her left arm, wrist and left foot. I was shocked when I saw her and then saw you. So I took the liberty of comparing a few things. You see, I had to take your blood to run tests to make sure you could be on certain medications, check for un-planned pregnancies, your white cell count, etc. I had to take her blood samples for the same reason and also for the police to know her blood alcohol content.”
Okay, and?

I shoot Dr. Hopkins a ‘so what’ kind of look. “Okay, I’m aware of all that, I mean, did you need me to sign some more paperwork or something? Do you have liability sheets or something for blood work?”

“No, no, dear.” He takes a deep breath and sets his hands down.

“You see, Emily, the person who hit you is Elaina Harper.” He looks so sad to deliver this news, but I have no clue who this chick is. She has the same last name as I do, but what does that mean?

“I’m sorry but you will have to fill me in, Doc, because I have no idea who that is.” He looks shocked to hear me say this and closes then opens his mouth again.

“You have no knowledge of her, whatsoever?”

“No sir, I would like to believe that I would remember her. I mean it is the same last name and all.”

“Oh no. I wonder if even she knows.” He shakes his head, his eyes with a faraway look in them.

After a moment he continues, “Emily, Elaina Harper is your identical twin. You don’t know that you’re a twin?”

I burst out laughing loudly, bending over and holding onto my stomach. The laughs turn to sobs and then I’m crying all over the place.

“You mean to tell me I have a sister, an identical twin sister, and she almost died because we were in a wreck together and she’s right down the hall from me?” I gasp out in between sobs.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

I rush to the bathroom as fast as I can and up-chuck my lunch of chicken and dumplings Mishka had made me, only called something different in Russian.
I can’t believe I have a sister!
I thought all of my family was dead and the one person I have left in the world almost died. I have to see her. I have to meet her. I hear Tate enter the room and begin yelling at the doctor.

“What the hell’s going on? Why is my Krasaaveetsa upset? I hope for your sake I don’t have to hurt you, Doc.”

Oh shit!
I better go get Tate before he takes out the poor old doctor’s knees. I open the door and step back into the room swiftly.

“Tate, relax sugar dimples. It’s not the doctor’s fault. He gave me some news and it made me upset, but he didn’t do anything wrong.” I glance to the doctor and see he looks like he’s about to piss his pants. I don’t blame him. Tate is a mean cookie when he goes all ‘Mafia Boss.’ Tate clears his throat and looks to the doctor.

“Sorry about that, Dr. Hopkins, just looking after my Krasaaveetsa. What is it? Wait, is she pregnant or something?” He gets a hopeful expression and it fills me full of warmth.

“Of course, Mr. Masterson, I understand. And no, sir, she is not pregnant. Miss Harper can fill you in on what she wishes to share.”

Dr. Hopkins then meets my eyes, “Emily, she is in room 309 and you are on her list of allowed visitors. Good luck. I’ll have your discharge paperwork drawn up and Nurse Brenda will be in here to have you sign everything.”

“Okay, thank you, doctor.” Tate steps to the side and Dr. Hopkins scuttles out of my room a little too eagerly.

“What is it, little pet? What happened?”

“Okay, first I need to get my clean clothes on. Then I need to go to room 309. Then I will tell you what’s going on, but first I have to see it with my own eyes.” I shuffle toward my bag of clothes Tate had London bring for me.

“What’s in room 309? Oh, you mean the person who hit us? No, Krasaaveetsa, you stay out of there.” Tate demands and crosses his arms like the decision’s final.

Huffing, I argue, “No way, I’m not staying out of there!”

“The hell you aren’t! I’ve already called Uncle Victor and he’s going to take care of her. No one almost kills my Krasaaveetsa and then lives to talk about it. I don’t know which it was, the Chinese or the Italians or maybe even those fucking bikers, but I will make this right. I’m so sorry you went through this.” I pale at his words and want to puke again.

“HOLY FUCK, TATE!” I shriek spazzing out, “Call Victor back now! That’s my twin sister in that room!”

I rip my clothes out of my bag, changing as quickly as possible. It’s not that fast because my body hurts so badly still. Tate turns white as a ghost when he hears what I say about it being my sister and immediately dials his uncle.

“I’m sorry, Krasaaveetsa. Fuck! I had no clue. I didn’t even know you had a sister. I’m so sorry, I will fix this.”

“I didn’t know about it either, it was kept secret from me I guess and I don’t even know why. I swear to God, Tate, if something happens to her because of your Mafia shit, I will never forgive you.” I grit, furious at him. I can’t even look at him right now. He better fix this quick.

“I’m going to her room to see her.”

“I wish you would wait, but if you insist, then I’m coming also so I can protect you if needed. I think I know who will be taking care of it, but just in case I’m wrong, I want to be there also.”

“Protect me? Are you kidding right now? You calling hits on people that turn out to be my sister is NOT fucking protecting me!” I retort, storming out of my room and down the hall as fast as possible.

I notice his brother, Viktor, down the hall a little ways from me, about to enter into one of the hospital rooms off to the right side. What is he doing? It clicks all in place with Tate’s family being mafia.
Oh God, please no!

“Viktor!” I bellow and start walking quicker. He looks up at me, gives me a brief smile, and then goes into the room and closes the door.

I call out to Tate who’s trailing behind me a few paces, “Oh my God, Tate! Please! Get Viktor!”

“Okay, baby.” He takes off, sprinting the rest of the way. I attempt to catch up to them both, as quickly as my sore muscles will allow me too.

I burst into the room, door flying open and crashing into the wall. I end up right behind Tate, breathing deeply and freeze at what I see.

Viktor’s standing at the end of my sister’s bed, staring at her almost as if he’s in a trance. His face is ashen as he catalogs Elaina’s features. His fingertips tap the ends of each other, almost as if he has a rhythm thrumming through his mind.

“Viktor!” I gasp out and it finally makes him blink. He turns, twisting his head to be able to see me and squints, confused.

“N-no, p-please!” I plead desperately. I don’t even know her, but I’m already willing to protect her. “Viktor, she’s my sister. Tate didn’t know any of that before he spoke to your uncle. Please, I beg you, don’t hurt her.” Viktor blinks and glances at my sister again. He nods and walks to her.

I attempt to run after Viktor, ready to jump on his back if I have to, but Tate is too quick and snatches my arm to stop me. I turn practically hissing at him and he covers my mouth, murmuring almost silently, to watch.

Viktor leisurely walks to Elaina’s side and does the sign of the Russkaya Mafiya on her forehead. He gazes at her briefly and then bends down, tenderly applying a chaste kiss on the middle of her forehead.

“She’s Krasaaveetsa too, da?” he questions Tate.

“Da, braat, she is a beauty like moy own Krasaaveetsa.”

Viktor turns to me, taking in each of my facial features with a look of wonderment on his face, “There are two of you, printyessa?”

I gasp, nodding and the tears I’ve been holding, spill over my cheeks and trembling lips. “Yes, Viktor, there are two of me, but I didn’t know that before. I just found out about her from the doctor.”

I approach her side and peer down at her face; it looks exactly like mine. It’s surreal to witness her lying there, motionless. Elaina’s heavily medicated and sedated to help with the pain, so I doubt she will wake anytime soon. I wonder how she would feel about me. If she knows about me? Why was I left not knowing about her?

“Please don’t hurt her, Viktor,” I beg him again.

He glances at me remorsefully, “I promise Emily. I won’t ever hurt her, I will keep her safe. You have my word.”

I approach him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, brother.” I murmur into his jacket and he squeezes me tightly so I know he heard me.

Tate cuts in, taking my hand and tugging me to him easily. “Now, Krasaaveetsa, you can calm down again. We can go home so you can get some more rest and we can come back to visit her.” He peers over my head at his brother, “Viktor, please call if she wakes or anything changes.”

“I will, Luka. I will take care of her and speak to you both soon.”

We say goodbye. I graze my sister’s unmoving hand with mine, and then Tate and I head on our way to my room to get my stuff. Time to finally go home.

FOURTEEN

TATE

My god, I can’t believe I almost had her sister, Elaina killed. I hope she forgives me. I can’t lose her, I love her. We finally get past all the Jeremy bullshit and are now faced with yet another issue. I make another call to Uncle.

“Is my Krasaaveetsa sister still safe?”

“Da, but she should die for this.”

“I don’t care, Victor. Make sure everyone knows not to touch her.”

“I will take care of it, nephew.”

“Thank you.”

“Da.” He hangs up and I put my phone away.

Short and simple, just the way I like my calls to go.

Earlier, when I dropped Emily off at home, she was doing much better but was still a little upset. I really don’t like her being distraught, so I’m hoping I can find out about Elaina for her. I’m going to call my boy, Hans, who works for my father and have him dig up whatever info on Elaina is possible. I’d like to get all of the secrets out into the open and not be blindsided again, literally and figuratively.

Thank fuck this semester is almost over with. I can’t deal with classes and everything else. I need to be home more with my love. I have to talk to Emily about all of this and I’m not looking forward to the conversation. My poor girl has been through hell and back; the last thing I want to do is stress her out more so.

I arrive at my parents’ house and one of the maids is already standing on the front porch. She’s probably been standing there waiting to open the door for me since early this morning when I first called my father. He’s a little obnoxious about stuff like that. Gizya is always treating people without consideration for their comfort.

I park my Mercedes on the circle drive and make my way up the grand front entryway that has four large, stone steps.

“Morning, Mr. Tatkiv,” Marine murmurs politely.

“Morning Marine, how are you today?”

She opens the front door, following me in and murmuring, “I’m well, sir. Good day.” She nods and quickly scuttles off to do whatever strenuous task my parents deemed necessary.

Gizya approaches, boasting a large smile.

“Atyets,” I embrace my father and kiss his cheek out of respect.

I haven’t always been close to my father. Growing up he was a hard man. Since Viktor and I have gotten older, we have both grown closer to our father. I think it’s because we finally understand—at least partially—the stress and pressure he lives with, being The Big Boss here in America. When we lived in Russia he was always out on business. At least here he is able to be home more and is safe. I’m grateful I don’t have to be the Big Boss. My father still has at least fifteen more years and then we will talk. I don’t want my children growing up as I did.

“Sin.” He has called me ‘son’ or ‘Knees’ my whole life and, in return, demanded I call him ‘father’ or ‘Gizya’. Rarely have I been ‘Luka’ to him, unless I was being scolded or if we were surrounded by certain company.

“I came to ask for Mishka’s ring.”

I follow him to the bar right off the entry area. I have learned that my father is a busy man and it’s best to get straight to the point. He appreciates it and it makes things easier. I take a seat on one of the black leather bar stools. Gizya rounds the bar, grabs up two chilled tumblers and tops them with a fresh bottle of Vodka.