Page 43 of Brooklyn Bratva

My chest was tight and I felt my breathing start to race. What if he was one of the bad guys? I’d never planned for that.

His voice rumbled close to my ear, prickling right through me. “Just keep walking. One foot in front of the other.”

My head was buzzing.

I was still coming to grips with what I’d seen – what had happened. I hadn’t meant to look at the man’s face, but it had been unavoidable, and I wished I hadn’t instantly. It was the same man who’d offered to help me right after I’d been mugged and somehow, those few minutes of interaction made it worse to see him so totally lifeless now.

I’d never seen a dead body like that before. There had been so much blood.

Why would anyone do that to a guy who ran a cafe? Whatever Ivan was involved in, it clearly wasn’t on the right side of the law, and that was at odds with everything I knew about him. Everything I thought I knew.

The whole time I’d known him, it had been as a cop. I’d listened to him talk about doing right by his family – his mother – and I’d fallen for the man who’d made so many sacrifices and upheaved his entire life to make sure that she got the best care that it was possible to have.

I’d listened to him talk to my dad about the state of things in Russia. How they had been, before the fall of communism, when he’d been a boy, and the way things were changing. I’d heard him talk about shortages of essentials, and always having to bribe someone to get a proper job done, or to have access to what you needed. He said the healthcare system was abysmal. That normal people didn’t stand a chance. He’d grown up learning how to look out for himself in a way that no one I knew had to.

Maybe I’d been foolish to romanticize that.

He’d been talking to Russians late at night in secret calls. He was trying to hide getting shot, and now he was taking evidence away from a murder scene. Just who had I got into bed with?

I gripped the handle of the bag more tightly to try and stop the tremble starting up in my hand. Ivan’s palm at the small of my back still made me feel secure. The weight of it grounded me like a steady anchor, and I tried to focus on that. It was who he was: strong, dependable and brave. Whatever he’d gotten tangled up in, I knew I belonged by his side. He wasn’t a bad man. If he was on the wrong side of the law, I trusted that he had his reasons.

I had to. I was in too deep for anything else.

Ivan

Mama’s place was closer to the crime scene. That wasn’t the reason I took Becca there.

My place was within spitting distance of the precinct, and I wanted to be sure Becca wasn’t going to rat me out the moment I walked her in there to have her prints taken. They could wait until later if they had to.

Becca didn’t say a word the whole walk back, and I wasn’t in the mood for conversation either. Our date went up in smoke. And Becca was looking at me like a tiger in the zoo.

I unlocked the door with my key and opened it ahead of me for Becca to step inside first.

“Mama?”

“Oh, Vanya. And Becca! I thought you out have fun.”

“Something came up, Mama. I need Becca’s help with something for work.”

Mama’s lips pursed, creasing her lipstick and she gave me a soft slap on the cheek, just the way she did when I was a boy. “It is Saturday. What you not understand about this? Is not time for work today. Poor Becya. She want spend time with you.”

“Mama.”

She rolled her eyes and her spidery lashes blinked. “You think I not know, Vanya. I know all things. But I have things too.” She nodded down towards her pull-along shopping bag on wheels. “I go now.”

“Mama, get a taxi back.”

“I not invalid. I walk.”

“Mama, get a taxi. For me.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Oi oi. For you, Vanya. Always anything for you.”

CHAPTER 23

Ivan

The pair of us stood in the kitchen, looking at each other as Mama clattered around us, picking up her bag, making sure she had her keys. The silence felt heavy once the echo of the front door slamming closed and her cheery goodbye, died back to the usual quiet of the apartment.

I led Becca through to my office.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?” Her voice was very quiet, but it didn’t have a tremble in it and I respected that.

She set the bag down in the middle of the desk and I turned my back to her to open the safe. The gun and the camera went inside without hesitation. The envelopes would need to get back to Mehmet’s family, and I hadn’t figured out a way to do that without drawing attention yet. The pills I had yet to decide what to do with.

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