Page 50 of Sins and Secrets

The room fills with discomfort. People look away to check their phones, grab food, and fill up their wine glasses.

Oh no. I stepped in something again. My voice cracks. “Why didn’t you like the pig farm?”

Uri waves his hand. “Oh, it doesn’t matter.”

There’s another, more desperate, whimper. “Why didn’t you like the pig farm?”

It’s Dimitri who answers the question—he has no filter. “Pigs eat everything. Including bone.”

OH. Oh no. And Dad was always weird about opening the trunk of the car…

I hang my head. “Dad, how many times did we go to the farm to dump a body?”

Dad pinches his lips together and gives a little shrug. “Not as many as Izzy and Donny.”

Nothing about that sentence makes me feel better at all. How many other family secrets did they keep from me? How many crimes was I an accomplice in?

Awesome.

Before Izzy can question her dad, he opens another bottle of wine and says, “Love ya, pumpkin.”

The group starts to break into side conversations when Dimitri jolts forward, reaches into his coat pocket, and pulls out a cellphone. It’s not like the ones we have. Clearly it's a burner. He makes a hasty exit into the back yard. I guess if you lived in Russia, our winter isn’t that big of a deal.

Uri tracks his retreat then locks eyes with me. Oh, I’m not done with this conversation. “So if you hated Adam, why didn’t you say anything? Any of you.”

This time, Izzy’s Dad speaks up. “We don’t have a great track record when we get involved with our kid’s love lives. After what happened to Uri, we all decided it was better to accept our kids for who they are and pick up the pieces if need be.”

When Uri came out, his father didn’t take it too well. He sent Uri to go live with his uncle in Russia. It was my second heart break in a year. He was gone for years before there was a massacre. He, Dimitri, and Ian were the only survivors. For one horrific week, we thought Uri was dead. Alana was sent on a body retrieval mission, but came home with Uri and his septic gunshot wound. She saved his life and the Russian mob has owed her ever since.

Uri laughs and points to his stomach. “Yeah, I have the scars to prove it.” I hate how blasé he is about it. It was in the top three worst weeks of my life.

Uri and his dad mended their bonds around the time Adam and I were getting serious. I guess the story tracks.

Uri’s dad scoffs. “Do you want laser treatment for the scars? I already told you I’d pay for it.”

“Nah, I want the stuff Alana gets. Who knows how many times she’s been shot at or stabbed? Not a single fucking scratch on her.”

“The Olympians pay for it, and the treatment won’t be legal for another twenty years,” Lance supplies.

He works for Alana, is her best friend, and has known her longer than anyone else. And, apparently, when he gets a little tipsy, he spills the tea on her too.

Dimitri comes back in, and he’s doing something I’ve never seen him do before. Smiling. Big smile, ear to ear. When he isn’t all broody and scary, he’s super hot. His smile changes everything about his face.

“Good news?” Uri asks.

“Da,” Dimitri says. “I wasn’t expecting the call.” He starts and stops, his smile fades and he’s back to being all broody again. “It was our last one.”

Uri nods. “Did her paperwork go through?”

“Da. She’s free from him, but still trapped.” He grabs a wine bottle and is about to finish it off.

Uri says, “Waverly, I need you to get a message to Alana. Speak it, or write it out, but burn it afterwards.”

“Oh, like black ops spy stuff, huh?” I laugh, but Uri doesn’t, and neither does Dimitri. “Oh, shit.” My tummy twists, I’m about to be invited into the fold. “What’s the message?”

“Dimitri needs another burner.”

How obvious and underwhelming.

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