Dirty Grovel: Chapter 36

Drew Anton has vanished—a ghost in the Florida heat.

He’s left his stench behind, though. Rank and rotting, the last whiff of a corpse decaying into soil.

“He’s good at running,” Artem growls, glancing over my shoulder at the screen I’ve been staring at for the last several minutes.

“Unfortunately for him, I’m good at hunting,” I say, my hands dancing across the keyboard, homing in on any and all activity even remotely connected to the Martineks. “There is some noise down here.” I point to the map on my screen. “Our men down there have heard rumblings about a Martinek enforcer.”

“He’s close to the Mexican border,” Artem mutters quietly. “Let me see this for a second. I think we had some resources…”

He fades away as he takes control of the computer.

I check my phone as he does and see a text from Sutton. It’s simple—just a “good morning” and a smile—but it makes something deep in my chest clench tight.

The fact that there exists a woman like Sutton Palmer is miracle enough.

The fact that she’s mine—mine to protect, mine to claim, mine to keep—is a whole other level of mind-blowing.

Which is why I feel the pressure, landing on my shoulders with the full weight of my responsibility.

I have to make the world safe for her.

And for our baby.

Fuck ambition and empire.

Fuck the old world Bratva rules and the men and women who enforce them.

They are my new compass, my north fucking star, pointing me true at every bend in the road.

“That far, huh?” Artem murmurs, pulling me back to reality. “I say we let the cartels in Mexico handle Anton. They don’t play well with others.”

My lip curls. “No. I want to see the light drain from his smug fucking face with my own two eyes. But even apart from that, it’d be a waste of a good tool. We can use Anton. The Martineks will do their utmost to protect their own. Even worthless pieces of shit like Anton. He’ll be counting on that, too.”

“We could pit them against one another,” Artem suggests. “The Martineks inspire about as much loyalty as a rattlesnake in a nursery.”

“Fitting, considering Anton is just about as loyal as a snake,” I grit out. “We’ll see how this plays out, shall we?” I rise to my feet.

Artem follows me to the door. “Where are you headed?”

“Meeting a viper for lunch today.”

“Ah.” Artem smiles. “Say hello to your mother for me.”

“He looks so small in that hospital bed,” Oksana murmurs, pushing her salad around her plate without taking a bite.

I lift a surprised eyebrow. “Do I detect sympathy?”

Scowling, she drops her fork down with a clatter. “I merely meant that I never thought I’d see Boris that helpless. It just underlines that no man is invincible.”

“Least of all Boris Pavlov.”

Oksana’s nostrils flare. “My point is that we’re all vulnerable, Oleg. The Martineks mean business. And right now, you’re the one in the weaker position.”

“Because of this attack?” I scoff. “Please. It’s clearly a setup. There have been no leads on Boris’s attacker and security footage has been conveniently wiped clean.”

“Still, you don’t have definitive proof. And without it, you look guilty.” She sips on her wine, ignoring her food altogether. “Power abhors a vacuum and right now, the vultures are circling lots of empty space.”

“I realize that the Martineks are not to be underestimated. And I also realize what’s at stake. But if collateral damage has to be paid, then I’m happy to sacrifice Boris.”

She studies my face carefully. “You’ve changed. Is it the girl?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her answering smile is somewhat smug. “I might have been wrong about her.”

I nearly choke on the piece of food I’ve just put in my mouth. I have to bang on my chest with my first before it dislodges.

“I’m sorry—I’m not sure I heard that correctly. Say it again.”

Oksana rolls her eyes. “You’re being childish.”

“Entirely possible. I’m still going to need you to repeat that last statement.”

“She may not be from this world,” she says, “but she’s smart and scrappy. And she just might be strong enough to survive it.”

“She’s been through a lot.”

Oksana nods. “I’m aware. An absentee father who disappeared on her before she was born, a stripper mother who landed herself in jail, a sister who’s involved with a third-rate gangster from Las Vegas.”

“Was involved,” I correct. “I put a bullet in her boyfriend’s face.”

“I’m still not thrilled about her pedigree. But there’s something to be said for character. She managed to turn out pretty well, considering where she comes from.”

“High praise coming from you.”

“I can admit when I’m wrong.”

For the second time in ten minutes, I find myself pounding on my chest, trying not to choke.

“If you’re going to keep saying shit like that, I’m gonna have to stop eating.”

“Have you always been this dramatic or is it simply a side effect of impending fatherhood?” Oksana asks in a bored voice.

“Says the woman who raised me.”

“I’m not the frigid bitch you imagine I am,” Oksana scolds.

“No, what am I thinking?” I mutter sarcastically. “You’re just warmth and sunshine, the very epitome of maternal love.”

Her mouth tightens into a flat line. “I know I haven’t always been the most… affectionate mother,” she admits. “But mothering never came naturally to me. That doesn’t mean I don’t love my children.”

“I know that.”

“I’m not just talking about Oriana, you know,” she adds gruffly, her voice shaking.

I smile soberly, wondering how we’d ended up in such murky territory as discussing each other’s feelings.

I blame Sutton for this.

“I would understand if you didn’t see me the same anymore, Maman. I am the reason Oriana isn’t here anymore.”

I have to wrench the words out of somewhere deep within me, my entire body rolling with unease the moment I force myself to say them.

Oksana doesn’t move, though. She stares back at me, statue-like.

“You made a mistake.”

“It was a big mistake,” I point out.

“Yes,” Oksana sighs. “And I’ll admit, there were days when I didn’t think I could forgive you.” Her lip trembles but she manages to gain control. “Then I realized, I already had. A long time ago.”

“Why?”

“Because…” She drops her gaze as though looking at me is too painful. “… you’re all I have of her now. My last child and only son. It isn’t until I saw you happy that I realized how much I wanted this for you.”

“Wanted what for me?” I ask, startled by her candor.

“A happy ending,” she explains. “I’ve never seen you look at another woman the way you look at Sutton. And that includes Elise.”

“I would have married Elise.”

Oksana nods. “That would have been another mistake.”

“Because we were young?”

“Because she didn’t have any of Sutton’s strength or resilience. She would have hated life in the Bratva. She was just too young to know it.” She shrugs. “In any case, Elise was your first love. Those never last.”

“Speaking from experience?”

She sighs. “Marrying into this world is a hard thing to do successfully. Either the Bratva suffers or the marriage does. Your father chose his Bratva over me. And in time, I returned the favor.” Her jaw clicks. “You have to be careful, Oleg. It’s easy to lose if you take it for granted. Take it from a woman who had a happily ever after—and lost it.”

“Why didn’t you leave him?” I ask. “Why didn’t he leave you?”

“I suppose we stayed for what we used to be to one another. We stayed for you and Oriana. We stayed because it was easy and it was comfortable.”

“I don’t want easy or comfortable.”

She nods. “No, I don’t think Sutton wants that, either. You have something special, Oleg. You have to do everything in your power to protect it.”

For the first time in my life, I find myself agreeing with my mother.

And if I can do that, then anything is possible.

Fuck only knows what will come next.