Until the End (7 page)

“What do you want from me?” Mishca demanded, shoving his hands through his hair. “I practically forced her away for you.”

“Oh right,
asshole
, try to make me feel guilty. You and Mikhail are just alike.”

“Don’t compare me to our—”

“Well he ain’t my father,” she said sarcastically, plopping back down. “Isn’t that what your
precious
girlfriend just had to tell everyone? Now, I can’t even see my mother.”

“She would have been killed,” Mishca tried to get her to understand. “She didn’t have a choice. You can’t blame her for what Viktor caused.” Even though he had done just that.

Alex laughed bitterly, clapping her hands. “But it’s okay to blame
me
? Mikhail won’t even look at me anymore. Sure, he deposits money in my account, but is that all I am now, an obligation?”

Mishca sighed, his anger draining away when he heard the sadness in Alex’s voice. This was much harder for her than he had realized. She didn’t share Mishca’s bitterness towards Mikhail. So while he would see it as a blessing if Mikhail ignored him, it wasn’t easy for a seventeen-year-old girl.

They hadn’t even been around to celebrate Alex’s birthday—Mikhail was away on business, Anya wasn’t allowed—and Mishca doubted he had been as caring as he could have been.

“No, Alex. Give him time, he’ll come around. If you really want it, I’ll set up a meeting for you to see Anya.”

She sniffled, her eyes downcast as though she didn’t want him to see her crying. He reached for her, gathering her into his arms, resting his chin on top of her head like he had done so many times when she was a kid.

It seemed so long ago now and he wished he could go back to when things were simpler between them.

“Why are you buttering me up anyway?” Alex asked after several heartbeats, peering up at him beneath wet lashes.

“I’m not.”

“Or maybe it’s because you want me to be okay with you pursuing her?”

He couldn’t lie to her if he tried. While he did want to make her feel better, he also didn’t want there to be problems between her and Lauren if she ever came back—and she would if he had anything to do with it.

But from the quickly escalating anger on Alex’s face, it would take more than a two minute conversation before she would accept it.

“Fuck you too, Mishca!”

She stormed out of his office, slamming the door so hard that he was sure it could be heard over the pounding music. Everything around him was falling to shit, and there was nothing he could do to fix it. Not yet at least.

Even as he entertained going after her and apologizing again, a stronger urge to go see Lauren rode him hard.

Ten minutes.

That was all he needed.

She hadn’t looked angry when she saw him, surprised yes, but not angry. If there wasn’t that, then maybe they could work it out.

But her last words before disappearing made him wonder what exactly she was apologizing for.

“Remind me never to listen to your suggestions,” Amber grumbled the next morning, buried beneath a mountain of blankets on the couch, a pillow pressed against her head.

“Or listen to your own suggestions,” Lauren responded with a wry smile, trying to keep her voice down knowing her friend had a terrible hangover.

She protested weakly, but didn’t argue. Lauren set the bottle of Tylenol and orange juice on the table, laughing softly as Amber peeked out,  snatching the bottle of pills and taking two.

“Where are you off to?” Amber asked settling back.

“I’ve got an appointment with my advisor to change my major.”

“Oh, you finally decided?”

“Yep. Pre-med.”

“Well, shit that’s awesome.”

She hadn’t even told Susan yet, but as she said the words to Amber, they felt right.

One step forward.

“Do you need anything before I go? I’m not sure when I’ll be back, I have work right after.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ve had worse hangovers, trust me.”

Lauren was out on the sidewalk a few minutes later, looking over at her car. It really made no sense driving the short distance to campus when she had walked it all last year.

It was stupid really, the anxiety she felt as she walked. Just because she had run into Mishca last night didn’t mean that he would be stalking her every movement. He lived in Manhattan after all, and there was no reason for him to be on this side of town…especially not at their old spot.

Reaching the corner where she would usually cross the street to go inside the café to meet Mishca, she continued forward instead, but even still, she turned at the last moment, peering inside the large windows to the table where they used to sit.

Today, it was empty.

Logically, she knew it would be, but a part of her still hoped to see him…while another part hoped that she would never see him again in her life.

She couldn’t make up her mind.

Ten minutes later, she was waiting in the sitting area for her advisor to call her in. A friendly looking receptionist was behind a white counter, typing away on the computer and there were a couple of people seated near her. Besides them, the office was rather empty.

Certificates and school memorabilia hung on the walls, yet it still felt a little sterile.

“Lauren?”

She looked up at the middle-aged woman wearing tortoise shell glasses and a pin-striped suit. Her graying blonde hair was pulled back into a severe looking bun, but she had a friendly smile.

Lauren followed her into a smaller office, sitting in one of the leather chairs. A manila folder with her name on it was resting on the desk in front of her.

Maggie Douglas, her advisor’s name was, sat down, pressing a few buttons on the phone to stop the ringing.

“If I understand correctly, you want to change your major?”

Lauren nodded, folding her hands in her lap, rubbing her thumb across the back of her knuckles.

“Can I ask what made you choose Pre-med?” She opened the folder, looking over a few of the documents inside.

One had Lauren’s grades from the pat year as well as her transfer credits. Another was a letter from the hospital Lauren volunteered at the summer after her senior year in high school.

Before leaving Michigan, she had stopped by, not really sure what to ask of them, but one of the doctors she had worked with was there and she told him about her decision. He offered to write a letter of recommendation—she guessed to keep on file since it didn’t really make a difference at NYU.

“My father was a doctor.” While she did enjoy helping people, that wasn’t her sole reason for choosing this path. “It’s what he would have wanted me to do.”

Maggie smiled kindly, like she had heard this reason before. “But are you sure this is what
you
want. I know a lot of students whose parents wanted them to go in a certain direction, but it wasn’t what they really wanted.”

“More than anything.”

Nodding, Maggie made the entry in the computer, then proceeded to go over the course work Lauren would have to complete to graduate on time. A few times Lauren’s eyes widened, but she was more determined than nervous about it all.

It was a rather quick process and by the time it was over, Lauren had a new schedule for the upcoming semester.

Leaving campus again, she paused at the intersection, noticing the man across the street. He had a very distinctive look and it didn’t help that he stood out rather prominently in the sea of smaller men around him.

He didn’t seem to notice that Lauren had spotted him and she didn’t make it a point to alert him of that fact.

She continued on, deciding that she would stop by the café anyway. Occasionally, she would peek behind her to see if he was still there…he was.

Vlad was Mishca’s bodyguard…or something else for the
Bratva
that she didn’t know the name of. While mostly reserved, the few times they had talked he seemed kind enough, if saying a maximum of ten words on those encounters were anything to judge by, but Lauren had no idea why he was on this side of town now.

At first, she had thought Mishca was somewhere nearby since she had never seen one without the other—unless Mishca was with her—and momentarily panicked thinking that he was going to see her, but she didn’t see him.

Inside the café, Lauren waited the short time in the line and at the register, Lauren ordered her usual while ordering a medium black coffee for Vlad. She didn’t know how he took his, so she just grabbed a few sugar packets and creamers.

Back outside, she headed in his direction, smiling when she noticed him pretending not to notice her. When she was within earshot, she smiled.

“Nice to see you again, Vlad.” She held out the cup to him, nodding when he took it hesitantly. “What can I do for you?”

He shrugged good-naturedly. “I need to talk to you.”

He gestured over to the park where a good number of people were minding their business. Maybe he chose this spot because he knew she wouldn’t go anywhere with him alone.

Seated on the bench, she tried to pass him the sugars, but he declined, taking a long drink of his coffee.

“You did not need to do this,” he said looking down at the cup.

“Thought you might want it since you’ve been following me for…” She trailed off, hoping he would fill in the blanks, but Vlad was too seasoned to fall for that. “I’m assuming because you’re here everyone knows I’m back.” And by everyone she meant Mikhail.

“We knew as soon as you hit the interstate.”

She grimaced, looking away. That was seriously creepy, but she had to stop underestimating the
Bratva’s
reach.

“So why are you here. Did…did Mishca send you?”

She cast her gaze around, trying to spot his car anywhere in the vicinity, but no luck.

He nodded once. “Mikhail will want to see you.”

That made her blood run cold. “Why?”

“You spoke of a journal, he will want it.”

She had been waiting for this. “Where exactly?”

Vlad looked at her head on, his gaze unwavering. “Wherever you are, he can find you.” He didn’t give her time to fret on that, saying, “I suggest you find somewhere public to be tonight if it will make you more comfortable…though if he wanted, he could kill you still.”

“Right,” she said dryly. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?”

He shrugged again. “Just the truth.”

“
Is
that what this meeting is about?”

“
Nyet
. Captain wouldn’t allow it if it were.”

“Good to know.” Did Mishca even have that power? “Was that all you needed with me?”

He nodded, standing and tossing his cup in the trash. He straightened, smoothing the front of his suit jacket. While Mishca wore three piece suits, Vlad had on a black shirt beneath his jacket.

“Take care, Lauren.”

“Vlad?”

He looked back expectantly.

“How is he?” She didn’t have to iterate who she meant.

He seemed to think over his answer. “Lost.”

Before Lauren headed into work, she dropped by her apartment, picking up the journal. As she left—this time taking her car—she felt saddened by the fact that she might not ever see it again. Inside it were her father’s private thoughts and the thought of anyone else reading them bothered her, but she had no choice.

“Good to see you back,” Diego said as he mussed her hair like he always did when she came in.

There were a few new people, a boy named Johnny and a girl with a sleeve of tattoos on the upper part of her right arm. Tara was in the back, trying one of the new deserts when Lauren walked in.

Abandoning it, she rushed over to hug Lauren like she had been gone for years. Sometimes, it felt like it.

“I heard what happened. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” Any other time, those words would have come out evenly, but tonight, with what she might be facing, they were shaky and breathless.

“If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know.”

She smiled gratefully, giving her one final squeeze before pulling back. “How’s Timmy?”