Sordid (37 page)

Every time I said goodbye, I wondered if it would be the last time I’d have to do it. The wall I’d placed between us was on the verge of breaking, and one more push would send it tumbling down.

π

I’d been back at school after the break three days before I’d decided I had to go back to him. I was sitting in my physics lecture, unable to focus on what the professor was teaching when I finally came to peace with it. His family was deep in organized crime and I wasn’t sure if he could escape, but I knew I couldn’t run from my feelings anymore.

I’d go into this relationship with eyes wide open.

So I held my cellphone hidden under my desk and texted a message to Luka, telling him I wanted to talk. I’d have to know how much shit his family was really into, and how Luka and I were going to figure a way to get him out. His reply was quick. He’d be at my dorm room in thirty minutes.

Class ran long, and I had to dash to my dorm. I flew down the hall to my room, only to pull up short. Air halted painfully in my lungs and my mind went into total panic.

Two uniformed cops were waiting at my door.

Oh, shit. What had happened? Were they here about Luka, or here for me? I forced myself to pull in a breath.
Act natural, Addison. Remain calm.

“Addison Drake?” the taller of the two officers asked me. When I nodded, he gestured to the door. “May we have a word in your room?”

I nodded hesitantly. I moved slowly to put my key in the lock and turn it. The door weighed a million pounds. “What’s this about?”

The officer pulled the door closed behind his partner, shutting us together inside my room. He eyed my bed. “Can you have a seat, please?”

“Why?”

“I have some very difficult news for you.”

Somehow my feet moved and I complied. I sat down gingerly, tension so tight in me I worried I’d shatter like glass if I moved too quickly. All I could think about was Luka.
Please let this be all right.

The shorter officer stood motionless as the taller one began to pace back and forth, visibly nervous. Just as he was about to speak, there was a knock at my door. My brain went blank. What the hell was I going to do? What was Luka going to think when he walked in on two cops in my room?

I didn’t get a chance to try to send him away. The shorter cop opened the door. Luka blinked. His gaze swept over the uniform and badge, but he hid the alarm from his face. Only I could see the danger beneath.

“Addison?” Luka said, his wide-eyed gaze turning onto me.

I said it on a hurried voice. “They said they need to talk to me.” Could he hear the honesty, or did he assume this was an ambush?

“Are you a close friend with Ms. Drake?” the cop asked.

Luka took in an uneven breath. “I’m her boyfriend.”

The taller cop stopped pacing and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Can you come in, please?” He motioned to my bed, wordlessly suggesting Luka sit beside me. Hyperawareness crawled along my skin as Luka sank down at my side. These officers had no idea who he was. So, why were they here?

The cop squatted so he was directly in front of me. “Addison. I’m terribly sorry to tell you that there was a fire last night at your parents’ home in Mokena. It spread very quickly.” The man’s eyes were deep with sympathy as he drew in a deep, preparing breath. “Your family did not survive.”

I blinked. “What?”

He didn’t repeat it, probably knowing he didn’t have to—this was a normal reaction and the person would need time to process. But I couldn’t process. He was saying my family was . . .? He couldn’t be right. I’d just seen them a few days ago, and everything had been fine.

The police had to be mistaken.

Luka’s arms curled around me.

As I stared at the cop and the other officer who lingered beside, both of their expressions stricken, I began to worry they hadn’t made a mistake. He’d said my name. They’d come here to my dorm room. What if what he said was true? An earthquake erupted inside and I shook with tremors.

Dead.

My family.

Gone.

“What?” I cried again, slamming a hand over my lips, trying to contain the emotion. I didn’t know what to do. Cold crashed over me, sucking every last molecule of warmth.

When tears spilled from my eyes, Luka pulled me tight to him, and his fierce grip made me break apart completely.

I faded in and out of sobs, swinging wildly from grief to disbelief and back again. The cops went over the details quickly and said an investigation into the cause of the fire had been initiated, but I vaguely acknowledged what else was said.

Mostly I sat on the bed while Luka held me and I tried not to die.

The police left once he was done asking them questions, and confirmed he’d stay with me. I cried quietly, unable to function. Everything hurt and ached. For a long while, we remained on the bed, where I found him shaking almost as much as I was.

Time passed, slow and unforgiving.

“Luče,
” he said, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

He held me so tightly, it hurt, but I was grateful. His strength held me together.

π

Luka took care of everything.

He notified my professors, made all of the funeral arrangements, handled the insurance and financial issues, and took care of the outpouring of support I couldn’t deal with. I just wanted to be alone. No, that wasn’t entirely true. I just wanted to be alone with him. I spent the next day in our bed, curled up in his arms, relieved he’d taken off work.

On Saturday, he made me eat something. Whitney was beside herself and had prepared a dozen dishes, wanting to offer comfort any way she could. I ate like a zombie and returned to bed.

My family was gone, as was the house. I had nothing left in the world.

Nothing except for Luka.

“You need to go back to class,” he said finally one night, “after the funeral. Some people will say it’s too soon, but they don’t know you. You need the normalcy. You need to focus on your goal.”

“Okay,” I said, devoid of feeling.

Luka pressed his lips together and struggled to hide the worry from his face. I was cold all the time now. Not even Luka’s heat could melt through the ice that surrounded me.

He sat beside me at the funeral visitation and forced me to do what I was supposed to.

“You’re not the only one grieving,” he’d told me softly. “It’s important to go through the motions for other people, to offer them comfort as well. You’re strong, Addison. You can do this.”

“Is that what Vasilije said?” I asked. I’d come into the kitchen last night to see the brothers talking over beers, and had interrupted Luka asking his brother for advice.

Luka frowned. “We weren’t talking behind your back. I’m shitty at dealing with people. He’s not, so I wanted his help, and Vasilije’s concerned about you.”

I gave a humorless laugh. “Right.”

“He knows what it’s like to lose a parent, doesn’t he?” Luka’s gaze softened. “We get what you’re dealing with.”

“A parent, not an entire family. And you can’t,” I said. “Even I don’t know what I’m dealing with. It’s all just . . . cold.”

I stared at Jonathon’s friends bawling at his casket, and wondered if I’d ever feel warm again.

The day of the funeral was tedious. My bones hurt as I suffered through the service, and rode in absolute silence beside Luka in the back of the limo, trailing three hearses. When I stood at the gravesites, I got angry.

This was unfair. It was so
fucking
unfair I could hardly stand still. My grip on Luka’s hand was ferocious, and I gnashed my teeth together. What had I done to deserve this? What the fuck had my family done?

I wanted to break something. I needed to hurl everything to the ground, to tear out my hair, and to lose myself completely in the madness. Better to feel rage than nothing at all.

Luka set me in the back seat of the limo and recognized the change in my demeanor. He waited until we were in motion before speaking. “Are you angry?”

“Yes.”

“With me?”

“No.”

“You should be.” He stared at me like I was missing the obvious. “This is all my fault, Addison. None of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me. I brought that down on your family, and you’ll never know how fucking sorry I am about it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“My father is convinced this was the Russians. They figured out who you were, or followed me when I took you home for the break.”

“Why?”

“We’re not sure. He’s still working on it.”

I stared at him in his crisp black suit, and hated the guilty expression on his handsome face. The hate was a feeling I could respond to. I’d gone so long without any emotion other than sadness, it felt new and exciting.

So I leaned over and slapped my palm across his face, punctuating the silence with the crack of skin smacking skin. It felt good. A needed release. Luka’s cheek flamed pink, but otherwise he had no reaction.

It only fed my anger. He should have been livid. Last time I’d slapped him, he’d threatened to destroy my hand, but now he just sat there with his gaze fixed forward. So I did it again. This time I hit him so hard my palm stung, and the force of it turned his head to the side.

But otherwise he was unfazed. He took my outburst without a word.

“Goddamnit, Luka. Stop me. Get mad. Fucking do
something
.”

I reared back to strike again, but this time he caught my wrist. “You think I don’t deserve this? We just put your whole fucking family in the ground. That was my fault. Everything that’s happened to you, all the shit I put you through . . . I destroyed your life.”

He had, there was no denying it, but how the fuck was I supposed to reconcile the fact that I still loved him? He’d taken everything from me, but he’d also become my everything.

His grip fell away from my wrist and he looked prepared to receive further punishment, but I didn’t want to punish him. If it was true the Russians were responsible for the fire that took my family, Luka wasn’t responsible. He didn’t want to be a part of the Markovics’ dark world.

“Their death is not your fault,” I said, my statement burning in my throat. “It’s your father’s.”

Luka’s head slowly turned my direction, and there was understanding in his eyes, perhaps even relief that I didn’t completely blame him. But I needed to feel the burn of anger, to soak in the heat of my rage, so I could finally feel warm again.

I grabbed him roughly and slammed my lips over his, shoving my tongue in his mouth and catching him unprepared. He tried to slow the kiss down, but I wouldn’t have it. Already tiny flames flickered in my body, and made me thirsty for more. We hadn’t truly been together since I’d left him at the mansion, and the pent up lust mixed with my depression, creating a dangerous storm.

He issued a sound of discomfort when I bit down hard on his bottom lip. I wanted to draw blood and goad him to match my anger.

“Addison,” he said like a warning.

I ignored. I hiked my black dress up and climbed on him, straddling his lap. I clenched fistfuls of his hair, tugged his head to the side, and sank my teeth into his neck. Once more he groaned, unhappy.

His hands seized my arms. “
Addison
.”

There was one trick left to try. I wrapped my hands around his throat and squeezed as hard as I could. I didn’t possess enough strength to overpower him, but the dominance snapped his control. His eyes flared with darkness as he ripped my hands away. “What are you doing?”

“Fuck me,” I said. “Be brutal.”

His expression was pure shock. “What? No.”

“Yes. I have to feel something else other than this numbness. I need it,” I said, my voice shaking, “and you owe me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He shook his head. But as he stared at me, he could tell I was serious. Luka could read what I was feeling, and see how desperately I wanted it. He glanced around the back seat of the limo. “What, right now?”