Page 39 of Dangerous Refuge

“No,” I tell him, unbuckling my things. I will have to carry my bag and Rico’s while Rico carries his video games. “I’ll be fine.” I open the door and climb out, and Sven is there, opening Rico’s door. I didn’t realize he even cared about my son so much. I never really saw them interact, though I also know nothing about the way he was raised or the way his father treated him. For all I know this could have been the epitome of love for a man born to the Bratva.

“Mom, I don’t want to stay at Sarah’s. I don’t have a good feeling.” Rico’s chocolate eyes stare up at me. I wonder if he’s just using a line I’ve given him or if his gut is telling him something mine isn’t telling me. We stand facing each other as his bottom lip quivers while Sven gets our bags out of the trunk.

“Baby, this is for the best, okay. You’ll see.” I tousle his hair, but now my gut is churning. Sven has been my source of comfort and safety for the past few weeks and I know for a fact that Paul was looking for me at the diner this week. If I’m making the wrong choice and I don’t even know it, I’m not sure how to swallow my pride and turn around.

“Here,” Sven says, setting the suitcases next to me on the sidewalk. “If you change your mind, you have my number.”

“Sven, tell her she’s wrong,” Rico pleads, and Sven crouches in front of him. He pushes some stray hair out of Rico’s eyes and then pinches his chin.

“Respect your mother, okay. She loves you a lot, and she will do anything to make sure you’re safe.”

“But—”

“That’s an order,” Sven tells my boy and I’m not sure what has transpired between them previous to this conversation, but Rico nods his head tightly.

“Yes, sir.” Rico’s shoulders are slumped as he walks toward the door of the building. I pick up the suitcases, not quite ready to shut the door to this chapter of my life. I just wish things were different, that Sven’s life wasn’t so… criminal, for lack of a better word.

“Goodbye, Sven…”

“It’s Stephen.” His tone is calm and even. “Stephen Victor Gusev, son of Alexsi Roman Gusev, Pakhan of the Bratva, but you knew most of that already.” He puffs out his chest and gazes at me. I can see the pain and longing in his eyes, but there is also pride there, ego too. “I cannot change my blood. I can’t change my family, or my job, or the men around me who I call brothers. I’m sorry that this didn’t work out.”

If this is his way of saying he loves me or that he’s heartbroken, he has a long way to go before he touches my emotions. I nod at him and walk away. I’m feeling my heart being torn from my chest and I can’t turn around to look at him, not even when I hear the car doors shut and the engine start up.

It’s a long trek to the third floor, but we make it to Sarah’s door, a little winded and tired, but in one piece. Sarah welcomes us in. It’s late, and I’m ready to collapse, but we have to get Rico settled first, so she leads us through a small closet in her second bedroom, into a door and a narrow staircase. It’s dark and musty, but we get to the attic space of the old rental building and Sarah flips on a light.

“This is my bedroom?” Rico asks, looking around the cramped room. Boxes line the walls, cobwebs in the corners everywhere. There is a small window open, the sound of thunder rolling in the distance. The cold front will come, bringing with it a breeze to cool the hot space off.

“Yep, all for you.” Sarah pats his shoulder and moves toward a tiny twin-size bed along the wall near the window. “I have a TV we can get set up for your Xbox tomorrow. It’s kinda late for games tonight.”

“Mom,” he whines, turning to me.

“She’s right, bud. Sleep tonight. We have plenty of time for video games tomorrow.” I leave his bag near the bed and run a hand through my hair. It isn’t the Ritz but it’s home, and it’s far away from my old apartment where I know Paul would find us within minutes. “Sven will have the rest of your things brought over here tomorrow, okay?”

“Fine,” he pouts, setting his gaming console down on a box. “Just let me sleep.” Rico kicks off his shoes and tosses himself on the bed. Sarah looks at me as if to ask if everything is okay, then heads for the door. I don’t like that Rico is upset, but I’m not sure how to calm him.

“Bud, you know I love you, right?” I touch his back lightly, worried about him.

“I know.” He buries his face in his pillow. He just needs space.

“I’m going downstairs. If you need anything you come get me.”

I straighten and walk to the top of the narrow stairs. When I look back at him he’s curled on his side facing away from me. I flip off the light and descend the stairs, squeezing out of the closet and into my room. It’s modest, a full-size bed against one wall, a dresser on another. There is no window, but I had no windows in my old apartment either. I take a few minutes and hang some of my dresses in the closet so they don’t wrinkle too badly, and Sarah appears in the doorway with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Want to vent?” she asks, head cocked to the side.

“Girl, you read my mind.” My heart is heavy as we walk out to the living room and I curl up on her sofa. Lightning flashes outside, thunder rumbling over the city. Sarah uncorks the wine and pours two glasses full and sits next to me. She already has a box of tissues and a few chocolates laid out on the table. She knows me too well.

“You’re doing the right thing, Allie.” As she sits on the squeaky couch she hands me one of the glasses and I indulge myself right away. God I wish she would let me smoke a cigarette too.

“I wish I felt that way.” I set my glass to the side and hug my knees to my chest. “I feel like I’m hurting Rico left and right. He wants to know his father, but Paul is off limits. So we get all set up with Sven, who Rico seems to love, and then I have to take that away too.” The audible confession drives nails into my metaphoric coffin. “I feel like a horrible mother.”

“And that’s not all,” Sarah says, sipping her wine.

“What?”

“You actually like that guy.” Her expression of sympathy makes me want to cry, but I refuse. I’ve cried enough tears over men in my life; I have to be strong this time. I shrug, ignoring her comment.

“It’s the right thing. You said so yourself.”

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