BAD APPLE: The Complete Series (Parts 1-5) Page 27

  Fucking Pete. Man, you had it all, you stupid asshole. Why? Why would you ever look at another woman when you already had so much love?

  “He almost rode over my foot when I threw myself into the car, and he kept yelling and driving faster while I begged him to pull over. All I wanted to do was get him to pull over, Vadi. I swear that was all I wanted,” she sobs, her face ravaged with guilt and grief.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “It is. See, he said that if I left him, he had nothing and he couldn’t face it, that it would kill him.”

  “God, no,” I breathe.

  “Yes. He hit the gas and twisted the wheel as he aimed for that barrier on the bridge. I felt it all and yet it happened so quickly. It was endless, like being in a washing machine, and I felt the exact moment his hand ripped free of mine and he was gone.”

  Shit.

  “I suppose you will leave me alone now, Vadi, and believe me, I know it is nothing more than I would deserve for the shit I’ve put you through for so long. I-I ask only that you try to forgive me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Irina

  Misha loves me. All the time. Even when he’s not making love to me like I’m made of glass and fragile. I see it in the way he smiles for no good reason or just kisses me out of the blue.

  I feel it when he spends his work day sitting at a table in the kitchen at Sweetness with a laptop instead of going to work where Vadi assures me he is missed.

  And I love him.

  Misha is ecstatically happy now that he’s gotten used to the idea of having a baby, and so are the hundred and twenty million people he keeps telling, crowing as if he’s achieved the greatest accomplishment in the world.

  Men.

  Today I’m alone, though, because it’s late on a Saturday afternoon and Misha’s gone over to the office quickly to grab a file he forgot when I distracted him.

  Tony’s alive and still on duty, sitting across from me and watching the door with his gun at hand and ready to take out any threat in a heartbeat.

  The phone rings just as I hand Tony a slice of my vanilla apple tart and a cup of coffee and I go to answer with a laugh, winking at Tony’s groan of delight.

  “Hey, handsome, you stuck at the office?”

  “Papa.”

  “Erm, sorry, sweetheart, this is—”

  “I want my papa! Tell my papa he has to come get me, please. I don’t want to live here anymore. They don’t like me and I miss my papa.”

  “Okay, honey, uh…tell me who Papa is and I’ll see if I can find him for you, okay? Er, maybe I could talk to your mom and she could—”

  “No! She’ll hit me hard if she knows I did this. Please tell Papa if he comes to get me I will be good this time. I won’t get sick again. Please!”

  A chill races up my spine.

  “Minkie?”

  PART V

  Chapter One

  Irina

  She’s supposed to be dead.

  “Minkie?”

  “Please. I want my papa.” She cries softly into the phone, that breathy little voice pulling at some hidden maternal instinct deep inside of me.

  “Shh, honey. Can you tell me your name and where you are?” I manage to say, though my voice is hoarse.

  “My name is Minka Novac. My papa is Misha. Please. Get Papa.”

  I’m on the phone with a ghost, my heart beating faster than it ever has before.

  Minka was Misha and Mina’s daughter, a little girl he still mourns the loss of. She died at the age of two when she contracted pneumonia and the doctors couldn’t fight it, no matter how hard they tried.

  When Minkie died, Misha went nuts. He stopped living and all but killed himself at the bottom of a bottle.

  He couldn’t even say good-bye because her mother had her immediately cremated and laid to rest in the family cemetery—or at least one of those morbid family-type plots.

  “Oh God. Honey, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Can you do that?”

  “Yes. Please hurry. Someone might come and I’ll be in so much trouble,” she begs, her little baby-girl voice panicked and teary.

  “Shh, don’t be scared, sweetheart. My name is Ri and I know your daddy. Can you tell me where you are, baby? Do you have an address?”

  “No, I-I don’t get to go in the front of the house. Only the back when Becky lets me play outside. I…please tell my papa to find me.”

  My tone of voice alerts Tony to my distress and I hear him curse before rushing over and hitting the speaker.

  “Listen to me, sweetheart. I need you to tell me everything you can about where you are. Anything at all. Are there lots of houses? Can you see any signs? Can you hear anything special?”

  I don’t know what the hell else to do in this situation. I’m pretty clear by now that Minka Novac is alive, and she needs me. I need to find her. Now.

  She starts sobbing and babbles at me before Tony takes charge, his face white and perplexed.

  “Hey, honey, my name is Tony and I can help you with whatever you need if you just calm down. Now just breathe and try not to get upset and tell me anything you can about where you’re at. Okay, baby?”

  She seems to respond better to him, and I hear her take a deep breath before releasing it and whispering into the phone.

  “We are on the beach…um, I see a small pier when I go out to play. Um, there aren’t lots of houses, we’re far from other people. I don’t know anything else, cause I can’t read the signs.”

  Fuck. I will kill whoever took this kid. Her voice signals she must be at least eight or nine, and the fact that she can’t read proves that she’s been neglected.

  “That’s fine, sweetheart. Try to hang on a little for me, okay?”

  Tony grabs his phone and starts barking orders into it, his rapid-fire commands making me jump a little before he ends the call and gives me a look that screams get your shit together.

  “Er, uh…”

  I hear her start breathing hard before the line goes dead. Strangely, once that happens, I start pacing and babbling, my mind totally shot.

  “Should I call him? Of course you should, Ri! The man’s daughter is alive and crying out for help, you asshole! Call—”

  “Don’t. Whatever, whoever that was, Irina, it was not Minka Novac.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing, gumdrop. You call Misha now and he’ll go crazy. You wanna see your husband go mad trying to track down a kid that does not exist anymore?” he asks, making me come to a screeching halt in the middle of the living room.

  “But…”

  “She’s dead. I mean dead, Irina. Gone. Forever. I should fucking know since I had to see her little body before that mother of hers had her shipped out and torched not ten seconds after she died.”

  “You…?”

  “Yeah. I was working a few details back then, moonlighting under the radar, and I was paid really well…. Look, the point is, that little girl,” he shoves a finger at the phone, “that ain’t Misha.”

  “What? Why? I mean—”

  “Think about it, kid. With your man running around nuttier than a fucking squirrel, searching for his dead kid…”

  “I’ll be…”

  Alone.

  I feel like all the air just left my body and life is trying to dump me on my ass. That little excited, terrified zing I’d been feeling is officially gone as the meaning of that call hits me.

  Someone’s trying to mess with Misha. Some disgusting asshole is trying to use the one thing that is guaranteed to send him over the deep end.

  He’s stressed as it is since I’m pregnant with his child. He won’t handle this well.

  “Dammit! Things were just starting to go well.”

  That has Tony raising his brows and waving a hand at his gut and my healing arm where Mr. Knife got me good.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, kid, I know, and that’s why I’m not telling anyone what just happened until I and my
guys know exactly what the fuck is going on. You keep your mouth shut for now while I trace that call and get Joe on it. Okay?”

  Nothing about this is okay.

  “Make it quick, Tone.”

  Chapter Two

  Irina

  “STOP.”

  “I will not stop. You need me right now, angel,” Misha croons, going one step beyond gross by kissing me after I’ve wiped my lips for the umpteenth time to get rid of bile-tasting saliva.

  “This is gross and humiliating,” I groan, diving at the porcelain as another wave of sickness hits me.

  Heaving with my naked ass pointed in the air and on full display is not my sexiest pose. Heck, it’s probably like number five on my “never do this if you want your man to want you” list.

  “Hush, Irina. There, just get it all out.”

  The crooning and the way he keeps rubbing at my back eventually calms me and I push back, falling into his chest with a sigh.

  By the time I can stand, he’s whistling and dragging me toward the kitchen.

  “So, talk to me, angel.”

  He’s humming as he starts scrambling eggs, and I feel my stomach give another turn, this time due to my aversion to talking.

  “Er, well…I mean I feel good.”

  “That is good.”

  I watch him pull the pan off the burner and scoop the eggs onto a plate, along with buttered toast and a few strips of bacon.

  “Eat,” he says as he places the plate in front of me and joins me at the table.

  By some miracle, I manage to keep it all down as he sits back and watches me in contemplative silence. An uncomfortable silence. One that makes me break.

  “Some little girl called yesterday claiming to be your dead daughter, and I was going to tell you because I was so happy for you before Tony told me it’s not possible and then ordered me not to say a word while he investigates because he’s scared you’ll go all nuts and crazy and leave me at the mercy of the Killers Gang that’s after me!”

  I can’t figure out why Misha’s laughing his ass off right now instead of throttling me and going off the deep end.

  “Hey! Stop laughing. It’s creeping me out. Misha? Honey? Should I call Vadim? Leo? Oh God, please don’t snap and have one of those psychotic breaks! I’m pregnant. I can’t run and puke at the same time, it’s a choking hazard!”

  Misha keeps laughing, wiping tears from his eyes as I take a peek at the door to plan my escape route while also considering the last strip of bacon on my plate.

  “Oh, Irina, my angel, you should have seen the guilt written all over your sweet face all night!” he chokes, making my blood pressure rise as I gnaw on my fork and throw him dirty looks.

  “You…you knew about Minka calling and you let me stew about this all night?”

  “Baby, you were so intent on distracting me, you gave me two blowjobs before nine. I am but a man.” He chuckles.

  I’m stunned as he smiles and shakes his head.

  “You’re…not upset?”

  The humor fades instantly, and those baby blues go glacial.

  “Nyet, I am pissed, Irina. For many reasons, one of which is what I wanted to discuss with you first. Tony will no longer be with us.”

  “Why? I like him.”

  “He spoke of being there when Minkie was…”

  He stops and breathes deeply, yanking at his hair that has grown to long for my taste.

  “Mish—”

  “It was an outright lie,” he fumes, his accent going thick and deadly as his nostrils flare. “Not possible. Not when she was not given so much as a minute before that fucking bitch…it makes no difference now. Two things, Irina. One, Tony worked for them. This is a red light. Two, he lied to you yesterday…”

  “Oh God, Mish! Can…?”

  I can’t finish that sentence because the fragile hope that’s just bloomed in me is so fearful of another crushing blow like yesterday’s that I can’t so much as allow myself to even contemplate it.

  Mish, however, smiles coldly—a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “Perhaps. It’s a possibility. Though if it proves true, I can safely say that you had better be alright loving a murderer, because I will kill Mina with my bare fucking hands.”

  I spring to my feet, still chewing my tasty bacon as excitement and something that is strangely akin to maternal jubilation hits me.

  “Oh my God! Where, how, when…I-I…oh shit. If he, and then, and…what’s he gonna do? I should never have let him, and now he knows that she was calling and…”

  Misha stands up and lifts me into his arms. Then I’m on the sofa, his gentle strokes and crooning bringing me back to life.

  “Shh, all will be well, angel. Leo and Vadim are on him. They’ll follow him and anyone he calls, sees, or so much as mentions in his sleep. If Minkie is indeed still alive…”

  “But….” I pause and breathe deeply, shoving my tearstained face against his neck.

  “Are you okay with this? It could all be a hoax or…what if she’s not?” I babble, my heart in my throat.

  I’m practically vibrating with joy and the need to go out and buy like a billion little pink princess dresses.

  Misha smiles sadly and strokes my face, kissing my lips tenderly despite the way I must look. Then he settles me firmly in his lap.

  “If she is alive and has found a way to contact us, I will be…beyond overjoyed. But if not…I will be okay, angel,” he vows, his eyes holding mine with a look of love. “I have you. I have this little one.”

  I’m silent as he palms my belly and grins.

  “We are so blessed already, Irina. I cannot find it within me to feel anything but the deepest gratitude for the second chance God gave me.”

  “I hope she is. I hope and pray that your vile ex did pull a fast one on you, because I swear, Mish, if she comes home to us I will be the best stepmom ever.”

  “Ah, angel, I pray too.”

  He sighs tiredly and we just sit there for I don’t know how long, holding each other and I think praying, bargaining silently that the little girl I talked to on the phone is the real deal.

  At least that’s what I’m doing till a light bulb goes off in my head and I rear back to look at him.

  “How’d you know about the phone call?”

  “The phones are bugged. I have a private line that lights up every time the home phone rings,” he answers unapologetically, shrugging when my eyes narrow and then widen.

  “You heard what Tony said?” I gasp, my cheeks going crimson at the implications of that grin.

  “Heard? Angel, I am a billionaire,” he says, slipping my shirt off to reveal my aching breasts. “I have cameras,” he purrs.

  The dastardly man chooses that exact moment to suck a nipple deep into the heat of his mouth, obliterating any thought but the pressing need for sex.

  “God, I…oh, you saw me?”

  I’m so hot and wet right now, I could slip right off the sofa if not for the strong arms anchoring me over the massive, hard bulge poking my butt.

  “Hmm. You must show me this thing you were screaming about when you were alone, Irina,” he growls, his hand and fingers going between my legs with purpose.

  “Can’t,” I moan, grinding down harder. “Only come when you’re touching me.”

  That gets me a dazzling smile before he proceeds to show me why I am so happy I married him on a night of excess drinking and true love.

  Chapter Three

  Misha

  My heart is in my throat as I gingerly extricate myself from Irina and the warmth of our bed to grab my phone and pad out of the bedroom.

  “Vadim.”

  “He’s still holed up at home. Nothing yet.”

  The news has my blood boiling, but I manage to wrestle myself back onto the leash and grind my teeth instead of yelling and cursing at my brother.

  I’m half crazed with the need to know what the hell is going on, and while I feel some amount of guilt for fibbing to my wife, I
’ve promised myself I wouldn’t do what everyone would expect and go crashing and stomping like a lunatic.

  One thing I knew when Tony was giving Irina that little speech of his was that part of his statements were true. I’m this close to going nuts and running off on a wild goose chase just to know.

  That voice…

  I could put my hand on a stack of Bibles and swear that’s the voice of my little one, but the truth is, I could just be grasping at straws. Knowing this and acknowledging that losing control right now would put Irina in danger is the only reason I allowed Vadim and Leo to take care of this while I am personally going to stay and safeguard my wife.

  It’s taking everything in me not to go over to Tony’s and beat the truth out of him one punch at a time. I want blood now, whether this story is true or not.

  I want someone to suffer for trying to push me back to a place I have no business being in. I was out of control when I lost my child, and I came so close to going back to that dark place when Irina left me.

  This, I know, is a very important time for me. I’m on the verge of losing it, and the only thing keeping me stable is my angel.

  “I want to know, Vadim.”

  “Christ. You think we don’t? I caught Leo, fucking Leo of all people, trying to sneak into his house last night, man. He had pliers and knuckles in his back pocket, bro.”

  “Leo? Calm, collected, violence-is-a-last-resort Leo?” I ask incredulously.

  Leo never gets angry to the point of losing his temper. At least, it’s so rare that we all forget that of the three of us, he’s the one to truly fear.

  “Yup. He’s hanging on by a thread, Mish.”

  I hear the worry and fear in Vadim’s voice and plop down at the kitchen table with a sigh. This is going to take all night if Vadi is worried.