Possess Me by Michelle Heard

 

Chapter 24

 

Alek

 

After a shit night’s sleep in the foreign bed, I’m walking the perimeter of the estate to check for any vulnerable spots.

Every time I come across a guard, I stop to introduce myself.

I’m busy in the backyard when Luna, Viktor’s dog, comes trotting toward me.

“Hey, girl,” I whisper. I pat her head before continuing to check the wall.

“Are you taking over my job?” I hear Alexei call.

Turning around, I wait for him to catch up with me, then he says, “I take a walk around the estate every morning.”

“I’ll leave you be.”

He shakes his head and nods for us to walk. “We can check the perimeter together.”

Yesterday he said he wanted to spend some time together. Not knowing what to expect, my nerves twist in my stomach. The last thing I want to do is disappoint Alexei.

We walk for a while, then he orders, “Tell me about yourself.”

“Sir?” My gaze darts to him. “I’m sure you know everything about me.”

“I know you’re the second son of Vincent Aslanhov, that you were good during your training as an enforcer.” His sharp gaze flicks to me. “You got taken by Prodi. You lost your brother, the woman you love, and your mind. At St. Monarch’s, you were a hothead.”

That about sums up my life.

“Tell me who you really are, Alek,” he demands.

“I’m a bratva soldier,” I answer, because that's all I can be when everything’s said and done.

“Bullshit,” Alexei mutters. “Want to know what I see when I look at you?”

Not really.

He glances over the gardens, and I turn my attention to the boundary wall.

“I see a younger version of myself. Your father is a piece of shit, and I don’t blame you for wanting to kill him.”

My eyes shoot back to Alexei, surprise tensing my muscles.

Our eyes lock, and he says, “His days are numbered. He’s taken too many chances and fucked up more than is allowed.”

The news brings me a surge of satisfaction, but then I think of my mother.

“I can’t kill him because it will leave my mother alone in Russia.”

“I think she will be happier to be with her son,” he mentions.

I’m not a citizen of America, so I can’t bring her over to live with me. It’s something that’s worried me since I left her to do my training at St. Monarch’s.

“If life has taught me one thing, it’s that everything sorts itself out in the end,” Alexei murmurs. He places his hand on my shoulder and nods toward the main mansion.

The corner of my mouth lifts, and I admit, “It’s been a lifelong dream to meet you.”

He pats my cheek in a fatherly way. “Let’s go shoot some shit in the armory. You can show me how good you are.”

Now we’re talking.

 

 

After familiarizing myself with the neighborhood and surrounding areas, I drive in the direction of Pasadena, where Rosalie likes to go.

I’ve heard she’ll take Roman to a playground on a weekly basis, and I want to check the area for escape routes and possible threats.

I’m dressed in a brand-new suit, and it will take some time to get used to no longer wearing combat uniforms.

It’s going to take time for me to get used to a lot of things.

The day I got to spend with Alexei was out of this world. I even managed to forget about the shitshow that’s my life while we were shooting targets.

But now that I’m alone in the car, there’s no forgetting.

I drive around the park where the playground is, my eyes skimming over the kids before touching on the adults.

It’s an open space. Anyone can take a shot from any of the surrounding buildings.

As a car approaches from the opposite direction, my eyes lock on the driver. My heart stutters in my chest as I stare at a woman who looks exactly like Everleigh.

Same shoulder-length light brown hair. Same amber eyes.

Jesus.

She drives past me, and I catch sight of a child in the backseat.

Not thinking, I make a U-turn in the middle of the street. Horns blare, but I couldn’t give two shits. I’ll fucking drive over the other cars to get to her.

My heart sets off at a crazy pace as I floor the gas to catch up to the blue sedan, but it turns left up a street, and I lose sight for a moment.

When I turn left as well, there’s no sign of the blue sedan. It’s as if it vanished into thin air.

“Blyadʹ,” I curse as I slam my palm against the steering wheel.

I pull over to the curb and slump back in my seat. Gasping for air, the image of Everleigh haunts me.

Christ.

Breathe.

I don’t know how much time passes before I manage to get control over my mind again.

I glance at the buildings, but all I can see are back entrances, and I don’t know which gate is for which business.

Everleigh is gone, Alek. What the fuck are you doing?

Letting out a hopeless sigh, I pull away from the curb and drive in the direction of the estate.

Since I lost Everleigh, it’s the first time I’ve come across someone who reminded me of her. It’s jarring, to say the least.

 

 

Lying in bed, I check Viktor’s schedule for tomorrow. He has a seven o’clock appointment at the docks and a lunch meeting with a prospective buyer.

Other than that, we’ll be at the company that’s used as a front to import illegal goods and launder money.

Things are very different here from the way they were in Russia. I don’t even get to beat anyone.

I place my phone on the bedside table and stare up at the ceiling. I’m starting to get used to the sounds in the cottage, and the bed isn’t uncomfortable any longer.

I’ve converted the guest bedroom into a study. The walls are covered with photos and names so I can memorize who’s who faster.

Life is quiet here at the estate, which I like. Whenever I cross paths with one of the Vetrovs or Koslovs, I’m treated as an equal and not just another soldier.

Alexei checks the grounds with me every morning. I have to admit I enjoy our walks. Sometimes he talks about the biggest load of shit, and other times we have deep conversations that turn me into a sweating mess. I think he likes to fuck with me.

As always, when it’s time to sleep, my thoughts turn to Everleigh.

Shoving the covers off, I get out of bed and walk to the kitchen, where I pour myself a shot of vodka.

Since I saw the woman who reminded me of Everleigh, she’s all I’ve been thinking about.

Christ, how I wish it was really Everleigh.

I only had two months with her, and I cling to the memories like a dying man.

Sometimes I torture myself by wondering what it would’ve been like if we had met under different circumstances.

I never got to see her be carefree. I never got to hear her laughter.

“Jesus, I miss you, moya malen'kaya lyubov',” I mutter. “I think you would’ve loved it here.”

Downing the vodka, I close my eyes and let memory after memory wash over me.

It’s torture, but it’s all I have.