Fate Intended (The Coulter Men Series Book 3) (12 page)

Chapter 16

Jane slipped out of her dress and tossed it to the floor. Tomorrow she’d take the thing to the incinerator. She never wanted to wear it again. It was tainted; ruined by bad memory. This was the worst night of her life, she decided as she plopped herself, half-naked, on her bed. Well, okay, hardly the worst. The loss of a guy she now realized she barely knew wasn’t like losing her family, but the pain it caused felt as sharp as if all the losses were fresh. A tear slid down her cheek and dropped onto her hand. She watched the first roll off as another dropped. One tear replaced by another, then another.

As the drops started to turn black from her mascara, she wiped her hand on her bedspread. Sniffing, she rubbed the wetness from her cheeks and took a breath. She wasn’t going to sit and cry over nothing. She didn’t really
lose
anything. How do you lose something, or more precisely, someone you never had? Never really could have?

She stood, forcing heavy legs to carry her away from her bed; a bed which lured her to crawl in, pull the blankets over her head, and allow pity to lull her to sleep. She rummaged through a laundry basket for her favorites: plaid pajama pants and her most cherished, faded and worn to its last few threads, sweatshirt. She pulled them on and hugged herself. It was his loss, anyway. Her eyes burned, and she felt a fury deep within her breast. With nowhere to vent, she kicked the laundry basket against the wall on her way out of the door.

In the bathroom, she washed away the smeared mascara and unpinned her hair, ruthlessly brushing it out and securing it with a highly unfashionable, yet practical scrunchie. She closed her eyes at her image. She didn’t need to stare at splotchy red skin, dark circled eyes, and lips that were still just a little fuller, a little plumper from Trip’s kiss good night. He’d held her so tightly, almost like he didn’t want to let her go; his lips so urgent against her own.

She could have sworn he felt something for her. But then again, she had thought her father was invulnerable and her life unchangeable. She was horribly wrong on all accounts.

Stepping from the bathroom to the kitchenette, she smiled pitifully at Sasha, who had changed into her robe and was busy in the kitchen making a bag of popcorn. “Want to watch a movie?” Sasha asked as Jane approached.

At least she still had Sasha. In less than a year she had gone from family employee to best friend.

“Maybe in a bit. Right now, I need chocolate. Good Russian chocolate. I’m tired of America. Tired of Americans.” Jane rummaged through cabinets and drawers as she bitched. “Nothing like Russian chocolate.”

Sasha twisted the cap off a bottle of Russian Standard. “Since when is Russia known for chocolate? Now vodka. Vodka is what Russians do best. It is comfort food.”

“Vodka isn’t a food,” Jane pointed out with a half-hearted laugh.

“You sure?” Sasha looked at the bottle as if she was shocked by the revelation before setting it on the counter with a sigh. “Ah, good Russian vodka. Nothing in the world quite like it.” Sasha pulled a glass out of the cupboard and filled it. “I always wonder when I pour myself a glass….” She looked at the clear liquid in her hand and said, “If this might be from Sarkhov stock.”

“Poppa never let me drink it, so I don’t know if it tastes like ours or not.”

Sasha took a swallow. “This is good. It could be. Funny. All the vodka I drank with your poppa was still blue.”

“I think he preferred it blue.” Jane leaned against the counter. “Reminded him that his empire was built by his brain. It was his understanding of chemistry that passed vodka off as washer fluid. It was a testament to his outsmarting and beating a corrupt system.” Jane picked up the bottle and traced the red and silver letters with her thumb. “Funny, he would never tell me how he did it. Do you know?” Jane asked as she set the bottle on the counter. “Do you know how he removed the blue color?”

“I have no idea. He never told me either.”

Jane sighed. America sucked. She wished she could go home. “Talk about lost family recipes.”

Sasha sipped her drink and shrugged. “Don’t worry over it. You’ll know one day.”

“How? Poppa’s gone.”

Sasha’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, I figure Nikki knows.”

“I seriously doubt that. Poppa didn’t trust Nikki at all.”

Sasha choked on her drink. Her eyes turned red as she gasped and slapped her chest. Jane patted her on the back. “You all right?”

“Fine. Fine.” Sasha waved off her concern. “Went down wrong. Not Sarkhov. Sarkhov vodka goes down smooth.” Sasha’s laugh sounded fake, and her eyes narrowed. Sasha cleared her throat and asked Jane quietly, “How do you know Viktor doesn’t trust Nikki? Did he say something?”

“No. He never said, ‘I don’t trust your brother.’ Didn’t you ever notice how he’d end his business when Nikki came in the room? I mean I’d sit in his office while he talked to his associates; he would tell them how to fill the drums; how to add the dye; even who in customs was friendly and who to avoid. I mean he just talked business, you know?”

Sasha nodded.

“And if Nikki would enter the room, everyone would shut up. Dead silent.”

Sasha nodded slowly and said, “I know your father’s men hated Nikki after what happened with your mother. But I wasn’t sure if Viktor held it against him. Viktor never said a bad word about his son in front of me.”

Jane shrugged. “No, he never did to me either. I believe he tried to forgive Nikki, but the best he could do was be polite. Formal. Poppa and Nikki’s interactions were very…fake, friendly, and stiff, don’t you think?”

“Definitely. But, dear God, Nikki is just so bizarre…who could get along with him? No matter how nice he acted to me, I could never bring myself to trust him. I think he could be dangerous, don’t you?”

Jane paused. She didn’t trust him either, but he was still her brother. Unpredictable and angry—a complete spoiled brat, but he shared the same blood as her. But it was Sasha who smuggled her out of Russia. Sasha who found her a place to live and work; got the fake ID she needed to keep herself out of prison. She owed Sasha a greater faithfulness than a brother who could barely stand her.

“Yes, I believe he could be dangerous. He thinks of no one but himself. And no, I don’t trust him. I know in my gut that he hates me.” She looked to Sasha a moment to see if she seemed shocked by her words, but she wasn’t. “And Nikki hated Poppa.” Jane leaned her back against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t think he ever saw me as his sister, but as Poppa’s daughter…does that make sense?”

Sasha nodded slowly. “I heard some of the guards say he attacked you?”

Jane grabbed a glass from the cupboard, poured herself a shot, and swallowed it with an eye-popping head shake and a throaty, “Wow. Definitely warms the blood.” Jane wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Thoughts of her brother on the night of their father’s death added to the loss of Trip felt like her heart was being squeezed even tighter.

“Did he hurt you, Jane?” Sasha whispered the words.

“Not really. He slapped me and grabbed me by the throat, but guards arrived before he could do any harm.”

“Why? Why did he do that?”

“He was distraught over my mother’s death. Carried on and on about it being murder.”

“She died of a drug overdose!” Sasha’s voice echoed off the kitchen walls. “In London. How is that Viktor’s fault?”

Jane shook her head. “That’s what I told him. But you know Nikki. Remember, I told you he blamed Poppa for Bernadette’s car wreck too?”

Sasha sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, I remember. Though if Nikki had half a brain, he’d realize that if Bernadette hadn’t died in that wreck, Viktor would never have met Tracy Dugan…. Therefore, Nikki wouldn’t have known her either. Then he’d been robbed of the love of his life,” Sasha said with a blend of sarcasm and repulsion.

Jane thought a minute. “You know, I wonder…if Nikki’s theory was true…which it isn’t, but
if
Poppa killed his mum to marry mine, why did he never blame her? Seems the woman who marries your father right after your mother’s death would be high on the hate list, but he never saw the bad in her.”

“That is true.” Sasha took a swig of her drink. “But Tracy was having sex with him. That softens a man up.”

“Seems silly, but I suppose.” Jane polished off the rest of her drink and shivered.

Sasha laughed. “You’re so naïve it’s cute. Darling, a woman can make a man do insane things…forgive insane things. There is power in the…relationship.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Jane set her glass on the counter and gave it a shove toward the sink.

Sasha flashed her a sly grin and a wink before pouring herself another drink and returning to the original subject. “So, this fight between you and Nikki? What started it?”

“He told me Poppa was a killer. That Poppa ordered people to have Tracy, uh, Mum…killed. I told him he was insane. He kept going on and on about it until I finally told him:
if
Poppa was a murderer, then him
and
his whore wife would have been dead long before now.”

Sasha nodded. “True.”

Jane nodded. “It’s only reasonable…
if
Poppa was the killing type. But he wasn’t. Mum and Nikki made him look like a weak fool. He was cuckolded by his own son. Anyone else of Poppa’s generation wouldn’t have just sent them away. They’d been sleeping in the Volga River.”

“Exactly. Viktor was too kind. It was the ultimate shame. Makes me want to puke.” Sasha pulled a cigarette from the pack lying on the counter. She explained as she lit up, “I honestly believe,” her nostrils flared as she exhaled like a dragon, “looking like a fool is what got Viktor in trouble. People thought he was weak. He lost respect. I would bet all my money, and the bracelet from fatty, it was through that weakness...is how the KGB snuck into the family. Rats no longer feared him.”

Jane stood up straight. “And that’s why I will never forgive Nikki…or her.”

“Can’t say I blame you.”

The grip on her glass tightened as Jane spoke. “I know she married Poppa for his money…that I understand. I don’t like it, but what’s new about that? Women do it all the time. What I don’t and never will understand is why she ran away when she found out she was pregnant with me…gave birth, then ditched me on Aunt Tilley.”

Sasha lifted her glass. “How about a toast to Mums who ditch their kids…though mine chose to leave me in the lobby of a hostel.” Sasha’s laugh was hard, the smile she offered Jane was bitter.

“I wish she had dumped me and never turned back.” Jane looked her friend in the eyes. “I hate her. She will probably haunt me, but I can’t pretend because she’s dead that I loved her or miss her one bit.” Jane was quiet a minute as she chewed on her lip. Staring into the glass, swirling the clear liquid around the sides, she said quietly, “I’ve never even told Aunt Tilley this, but when I was a little girl, I asked Mum once who my father was....” Jane paused and polished off her drink. With a shake of her head and a grimace, she admitted, “She told me she was raped outside a pub. How mean is that? What kind of bitch says that? To a little girl?”

Sasha closed her eyes and scowled, but offered no other response.

“Then one day, I was about twelve…she shows up…on her yearly
I’m a good mother visits
…and says, ‘Darling, I have a great surprise for you!’ Off we go to lunch, and there I met Poppa.”

“Any idea what made her decide to tell him?”

“Money. She was still tossing the sheets with Nikki, and when Poppa found out, he cut him off. Well, Mum never had a job, only men for support, so a poor Nikki was almost useless…but then Mum must have figured she was holding the golden goose—she could sell her daughter to Viktor.”

“What a bitch. Did Viktor tell you this?”

“Oh, no. Poppa never spoke of Mum or Nikki. Aunt Tilley told me. She always thought Poppa was a good man, and she didn’t want Mum’s lies to cloud my judgment toward him.” Jane took a sharp breath, exhaled it with a near moan, “Oh, poor Aunt Tilley. She knows I’m a murderer. That has to break her heart.”

“Yes, it is sad, but can’t be changed. Don’t get weak. You cannot contact her or tell her the truth.”

“I know. I know.” Jane threw her hands in the air.

“Seriously, Jane. I assure you, her every line…phone, internet…has extra ears and eyes.”

“I said I know.”

“No matter how lonely, or how bad you feel…”

“Stop it! I know! I won’t do anything stupid. Trust me. I don’t want to go to jail. And,” she rubbed her eyes, “I would never do that to you.”

“Well, uh, I appreciate that.”

Jane’s eyes clouded with unshed tears. Everything was crap. Slowly she moved away from the counter.

Sasha touched her arm lightly, said quietly, “We will get evidence one day to clear your name. To prove it was self-defense.”

“How? How will we ever do that in hiding?”

“My uncle is on it. He has many connections.”

“I don’t think my life will ever be good again, especially after tonight.”

“Nonsense,” Sasha sighed. “Tonight was nerve wracking. I think we should get sleep.” Sasha rinsed her glass and set it upside down on the counter.