Page 3 of The Mobster's Flower

“What’s your name?” I ask to take her mind off the accident as we wait.

“Arya.”

“Okay, Arya. That’s a beautiful name. Mine’s Rue Carter,” I say, rubbing her hand just like my mother used to do whenever I was sick; it always made me feel better. “I want you to stay calm as we wait for help, okay?”

She blinks back tears and doesn’t say anything, but she grips my fingers tightly, anchoring me to her. I’m okay with waiting in silence, and that is what we do until I catch the distant sound of sirens approaching. I attempt to let go of the girl’s hand, but she makes a panicked noise and pulls on me. Annie pats my shoulder, then steps away to flag down the ambulance.

I watch her exchange a few words with the paramedics after they park and begin to make their way over. When the paramedics reach us, Arya is forced to let me go so I can move out of the way.

Before I step back, she pleads, “Stay with me.”

“You need to get to the hospital, Arya.”

“Promise you’ll come with me,” she whispers, her eyes filling once more with tears, and I find myself nodding. This is the only way I’ll get her to let me go so the paramedics can step in.

“Okay, I’ll go with you.”

She flashes me a grateful smile, which quickly turns into a wince. She finally lets go of my hand, and I step aside to watch them help her out of the car and onto a stretcher.

“Poor girl. Her brother is going to have a fit over this,” Annie says, stepping up to my side. I turn to look at her, and there is something akin to worry in her voice, which takes me aback.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“That’s Arya Andreyev.”

She says the name like it should mean something to me, but I’m drawing a blank. “Has she crushed into something before?” I ask, confused by the worry in my aunt’s voice. Annieis never worried by anything or anyone, and her unusual attitude concerns me.

“That is Vladimir Andreyev’s younger sister,” Annie says, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.

Still nothing.

“Who is that?”

“I forget sometimes that you aren’t from Valor Springs,” Annie says with a sigh. “Did you notice how no one else asked who she is or who to call for her?”

“Yeah, what’s up with that? I thought Valor Springs was a loving community. You told me I would love living here because the people are all so kind.” Sure, that good Samaritan checked on her before I did, but now that I think about it, I realize they hadn’t hesitated to let Annie and me take over.

“Andreyevs are a special case. Most people in Valor Springs give them a wide berth.” She smiles her signature mischievous grin before adding in a quieter tone, “They don’t know Vladimir’s weakness for red velvet cupcakes like I do.”

“Annie…” I start, growing a bit exasperated as I watch Arya be loaded into the waiting ambulance. “Explain, please. What does her name or her brother have anything to do with Arya crashing into my cart?”

“The girl that just crushed into your flower cart is our local Bratva boss’s beloved baby sister,” Annie whispers. “And you just agreed to go with her to the hospital.”

Her words take me by surprise, and a shiver runs down my spine. I’ve heard rumors about the Russian crime boss, of course. But I hadn’t known his name. Part of me didn’t actually believe that he exists.

I guess he’s real. Which means the stories I’ve heard about how dangerous he can be are also real. Shit.

Did I do something wrong by helping her? I don’t think I did, but what do I know? Suddenly, this quaint little town feels a lot less idealistic.

Arya calls for me the second she’s loaded into the back of the ambulance. Annie gives me a look that make me nervous for some reason.

“You’re not coming with me?” Arya’s heartbreak comes through when I hesitate, and that is enough to send guilt rocking through my system. I turn to look back at my destroyed flower cart, then to my aunt, who nods her head slightly at me.

"Go on,” she says. “I’ll take care of things here. You made that girl a promise.”

There’s something in her gaze that gives me pause, but I can’t worry about that now. She’s right, I made a promise to the girl, and I intend to keep it.

Later, I will come back to the scene of my crushed dream and sort through what I can…and no doubt cry for what I’ve lost. Right now, there’s a scared girl waiting on me.

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