Uncle laughs. “Yeah, and that was just business. You grandkids never saw the vindictive side.”
“Okay.” What’s the moral of the story?
“See for us,” Dima says around his cigarette, “a disloyal lover ain’t worth it. Bullet in the back of the head, guard your heart better next time. Marissa, however, punishes the girl.”
Daisy’s debt.
“Marissa fucks around, thinks she’s really doing something by marrying Russet off to you.” His smirk implies he knows exactly how that went. “Now, I do feel bad for Russie.”
I narrow my eyes in warning at the nickname.
He ignores me. “She’s just being a good friend. But it sounds like Marissa’s in a vindictive mood. While we hone our vindictiveness into a bullet, ready to be lodged at the right moment with the right amount of impact, all it does for her is create a volatile mood.”
“She’s going to get sloppy.”
“She already is.” Dima stubs his cigarette out. “It’s why it’s so easy to rile her up. Your dad’s playing nice and the strategy worked out cause this new guy’s doing all the work for us.”
The Ghost’s closing in on her.
“What about Daisy?” Russet might sleep by my side, but she’s tethered to her friend.
Uncle Dima’s resigned. “I don’t know, kid. I feel for your wife, but we all make our own choices in the end and that’s what this Daisy did by fucking around with what wasn’t hers.”
It’s easy for us to call it what it is and leave it there. Russet can’t, though.
Dima opens the door. “Come on, before your brothers burn down the building.”
Uncle might be joking but it’s an actual miracle to find the place still standing. Roma’s on a couch tossing a ball back and forth with Elijah who’s still behind the computer screen.
Roma checks his watch like he’s itching to get away.
Dima plops down beside him. “His meeting ran late, give him time.”
“Why aren’t you with him?” he asks, frowning.
They chat while Elijah clicks on his computer screen, reading through emails. Everything is calm as it can be whenthe three of us are trapped in one room until Elijah’s phone lights up.
Russet is calling him.
Elijah snatches it before I have time, a shit eating grin on his mouth.
Propping his feet on the corner of his desk, he leans back practically purring as he answers. “Well, hello, Russet. To what do I owe this favor?—”
Any feeling of rage goes cold when his feet drop to the floor. My brother’s an actor through and through but when his gray eyes flit to Uncle Dima I know this isn’t pretend.
I stand up. “What’s going on?”
He slowly stands. “And why would I do that?” he speaks into the phone.
I can’t make out the answer but Elijah blinks down at his phone, the conversation already over.
“What was that?” Roma asks, eyes wide.
Dima’s already got his phone out. “Signal just went dead, but if I had to guess she’s headed to Marissa’s.”
“What?” Roma asks, confused.
“What,” Dima replies. “I track all you fuckers.”