Page 52 of Caught By the Bratva Beast

The longer I think about it, the less answers I have.

Chapter 19 - Maxim

“Thank you for coming over here on such short notice,” I say, looking at the older woman as she shuffles into the room, setting her walker to the side before she sits down on the couch.

“Thank you for your generous donation to the home. I do my best to keep it running but it's hard with troubled teens coming in and out of my doors all the time. You wouldn't believe the amount of damage they cause in the run of a day. Yesterday I had one of my guys put another kid’s head through the wall.”

“Well, hopefully, the money I'm donating can be put to good use. Maybe you could buy a bigger house with a farm or something and get them to work some chores. Me and my brother used to go down a dark path when my father convinced us that moving to the country was the right decision. We spent most of our days working on the farm and it taught us a lot about life and responsibilities.”

Maggie smiles, folding her wrinkled hands in her lap, picking at the chipped nail polish on her thumb. “Well, you might be right about that, and with the generosity you shown us, maybe it is time that I do move them out of this city. I'll have to speak to social workers in the program and see who's willing to put me somewhere. But I think that you're right and we could do better if we weren’t right in the projects.”

It's time to get down to business instead of sitting here and exchanging more pleasantries.

“I have to admit I have ulterior motives for calling you here today.”

“I figured you might.” She picks off a large fleck of nail polish, sweeping it onto the floor. “Most of the time I'm not contacted by men with a lot of money looking to help troubled children “

“I've got a vested interest in one of the children who came through your doors years ago, my wife. She doesn't remember a lot about her past and we've been trying to piece it together for her birthday. I wanted to have a little bit more information for her.”

The old woman believes the white lie easily. She wouldn't remember that Pearl's birthday was only several weeks ago. It's been seven years since Pearl walked through her doors.

“I might be able to help, but I gotta tell you a lot of people come and go from my home. I try to remember them all. But it's hard, especially with the younger ones. The ones that are closer to thirteen often need the most help. They're still full of rage, just really starting to go through puberty. The older ones are easier.”

“Thank you, I'll keep that in mind if I ever open at home. I've been thinking about it. I'm sure my wife would love to help troubled youth, or at least run a program that would. Especially the way you took care of her.”

“Who's your wife? I might remember her.”

“Pearl Wilson, she's maybe about five foot five. Long dark hair, big brown eyes. She’s got dimples in both cheeks that pop out even at the slightest smile.”

The woman's cloudy eyes stare off into the distance, looking at a picture on the bookshelf of me and Nikita when we were children.

When her attention returns to me a memory lights up in her eyes. “Actually, now that you mention it, I do think I remember Pearl. An odd child. I only had younger teens in the home then she was the oldest that came in.”

“Do you remember anything else about her?”

“Not much. She showed up one day with a caseworker. She said her name was Pearl. We asked about her last name. The caseworker said she had selective mutism. She won't talk about anything that happened to her and if anything, so much as reminded her of that. She won't speak. We have no clue what happened to her.”

“Not even the faintest idea? Anything? She still struggles with it, and I'd like to get her some help, but I need to know what kind of therapist I should be looking for her.”

Maggie holds a hand over her heart. “You are a sweet man taking care of your wife like that. I know a lot of these kids have trouble getting the help they need once they're adults. Often times they just think that the way they lived life is the way life should be lived.”

“Well, I'm determined to show her a better one.”

“She got along well with the other kids from my memory. A real charmer. Do you have some water? My throat is getting a little dry.”

I go to the mini fridge, pulling out two bottles of water. I glance at the camera feed that shows the rest of the casino. Nothing odd is going on. Not a sign of Nicolo or any of his men.

After Antonio didn't report for his last meeting, I have to assume that he's been caught. Which means that it's only a matter of time until Nicolo comes chasing after me. And where the heck is Yegor? He is supposed to give me updates.

It's just one problem after another.

“Thank you,” she says, her hand shaking as she takes the bottle.

I crack the top off for her. “She's still a charmer. For what it's worth. I met her one night at a party and she had me reeled in hook, line, and sinker.”

“I was sad when she turned eighteen and had to move out. She was so good with younger children. I knew just watching her on the way she cared for them that she was going to make a good mother. Someday.” Maggie takes a sip of the water, and it eases the rasp in her voice when she takes another breath. “Do you have any children?”

“Not yet.”

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