Prologue

prologue

Avery – Four Years Old

I get off the yellow minibus and I instantly get soaked. It's raining but Seattle is always a rainy place, and Mommy is usually waiting for me with an umbrella and a mean look on her face. I think she blames me for the rain…but she's not here today. I frown and look at the aide on the bus, but she's not paying attention, so I shrug and bow my head to protect my face from the rain, and leave the bus stop.

The rain seeps through my clothes, my too short top and my tights getting tighter, and my messy, black hair sticks to my face. Mommy didn't help me brush it this morning again, and the other kids were mean to me for it. Maybe Mommy's asleep again; she did that last week. I came home to her laying on the sofa with purple around her neck. It looked like the one she put on my tummy last month. Daddy wasn't home, either. I haven't seen him in a while. He used to come home every weekend to see me, and he'd take me to get new shoes or clothes and ice cream. I miss him. Mommy has a friend come over at night, he's not very nice. I have to lock myself in my room when he tries to grab me.

I walk up the uneven stone path to the trailer we live in. It's got green around the windows again, and the grass is very long, though Daddy mowed it last time he was here. I open the screen door quietly; last time I was too loud, and ended up with a mark on my back. I have loads of marks on my back, and it hurts, so I try to be a very good girl for my mommy. I go in and see she's lying on the sofa, but there's red coming from her neck. That's weird. Maybe she had a paint fight? Her eyes are open, so I go to her, and gently shake her arm. She's cold.

"M-m-mommy, I'm-m h-home," I whisper, my teeth shattering from the cold rain, but she doesn't say anything. I try again, but she doesn't move.

Last time she didn't wake up I had to see Mr. Martin next door. He wasn't very happy about it, but he let me stay in his trailer until she did. I turn and go back out into the cold rain, and run over to Mr. Martin's trailer. His is nicer than ours; he washes the outside once a week, and cuts his grass. And his sofa isn't torn, and there aren't stains on the carpet.

I knock on his door, and he opens it after a couple of minutes. He's in his usual sweatpants and t-shirt, his beard and short hair, graying. When he sees me, he frowns and quickly opens the door.

"Avery, your momma asleep again?" I nod as he ushers me inside, while my teeth start to chatter together again. He wraps me up in a towel, giving me a scowl.

"You can't keep coming here just because your momma is asleep; I'm not a babysitter."

I feel bad, I don't mean to annoy him. "I-I'm s-s-sorry, b-but s-she w-w-wouldn't wake up. T-there w-was r-red paint on h-her neck, h-her eyes were o-open, b-but she j-just k-kept staring. I-I think s-she was sleeping with h-her eyes o-open."

His eyes got wider as I spoke, and for the first time ever he spoke gently to me, "Okay, sweetheart, I want you to sit here for me while I go check on your momma. Can you do that for me?"

I frown at how nice he is being but nod; I do not want to go back out in the rain. He gets an umbrella and goes outside, while I sit on his comfortable sofa. It's not lumpy like ours, it's nice and warm in here, too. It's never warm in our trailer. I lay my head down and close my eyes.

I wake up to voices and sit up. Mr. Martin is talking to some lady who's in some kind of gray suit thing with a skirt. Her mousy brown hair up in a nice bun, and her gray eyes assessing me behind her glasses. Mr. Martin sees me awake and smiles at me.

"Hey sweetheart, did you sleep okay?" He is being nice again. I nod, and he kneels in front of me. "This woman here is Mrs. Reeves, and she's here to take you to a nice home, okay?"

I frown. "But Mommy…."

He clears his throat, and the woman comes over.

"Your mommy wasn't feeling very well, darling. She's gone to heaven."

I frown again. "But heaven's far away."

They both look at me with sad faces, but they change to angry quickly when I ask, "Does that mean the bad man won't come near me again?"

Mr. Martin swallows hard. "A bad man was trying to hurt you?"

I nod again, and try to say the man's name, "Mommy's friend Vasil-il-iki. I had to hide."

Mrs. Reeves kneels. "Has anyone else tried to hurt you, darling?"

I shrug. "Mommy puts purple marks on my tummy if I'm too loud or puts her glowing sticks on my back if I don't wash the pots and pans. I have loads of red marks there, they hurt a lot." Mr. Martin looks really ill. I frown and place my hand on his forehead. "Are you getting sick? I don't want you to get sick."

He smiles sweetly at me. "No, sweetheart, I just don't like you being hurt. Can you show us your back? Is that okay?" I shrug again and get up and turn around before they pull my top up. "She's covered in burns and bruises! How did I not know this was happening just next door?" I hear Mr. Martin rasp. I turn round and hug him. He can be grumpy but that's because he's lonely, that's what Ms. Patterson one trailer over said once. I don't want him sad. He holds me tight.

"I'm okay, Mr. Martin. I learn to stay quiet now."

He places a kiss to my head as he goes really stiff and he rasps, "Go with Mrs. Reeves sweetheart, okay? Your daddy should come and get you tomorrow."

I smile wide at the thought of seeing my daddy, making them both smile. I missed my daddy. I wave bye to my grumpy neighbor—who turned out to be nice—excited to see my daddy. I go with the nice lady.

Only Daddy didn't come. Instead I was put through more than anyone should be, moving from home to home.

Sergi – Ten Years Old

I'm sitting at the principal's office at St. Martins private school, scowling. I'm with my new friends Damian and Alexandr, who are sitting next to me. We met at recess when some big bully was shoving Damian. He's only seven, and he tried to fight back, but the bully's two other friends grabbed him and held him down. I ran straight toward them, and shoved Paul, who's the biggest of them, off Damian, while Alexandr jumped in. Then it was a fair fight; three against three. Damian may be younger but he's just as tall. All three bullies had to go to the nurses office, and we only came out of it with a few bruises. But, for some stupid reason, we're in trouble even though we didn't start it. I scowl harder. Stupid teachers.

I look at Al, and he's smirking, while Damian is trying not to laugh. They're bad influences, I've decided. Mama will like them. I bite my lip, wanting to smile while the principal, Mr. Thimble, clears his throat angrily.

"This is not a laughing matter; you put three pupils in the nurse's office. I could expel you all for this."

I stand up, angry, making Damian and Al look up at me with raised brows. Like hell is he expelling me; I worked hard to get this scholarship to make my mama proud, and there's no way he's bringing her down here. She isn't very well, she doesn't need this crap, and my dick of dad doesn't want to know.

"They started it by bullying Damian, ganging up on a seven-year-old because of his last name, and you're punishing us ? Are you stupid or something?"

His face goes red and he's about to say something, when I hear my mama.

"I would like to know that answer as well. You like to stick by the bullies of this school, Mr. Thimble?" She looks mad, some of her beautiful brown hair has thinned thanks to the chemo, but her brown eyes are burning with rage. She always has my back.

I frown though, she should be resting. I walk over to her and take her hand, helping her take a seat, while the head teacher frowns at my actions. I scowl at him.

"I believe the lady asked you a question, Mr. Thimble," a new voice states.

I turn to see a tall man in a suit. He looks exactly like Al and Damian, with dark brown hair and facial features. But not his eyes; his are hazel. A pretty lady joins him at the doorway. She must be their mother; she has bright blue eyes like theirs, but black hair instead of their dark hair, which is browner. She looks pissed when she sees the state my mother is in, then scowls at the principal.

"Even though you know she's not well, you called this boy's mother in for his sticking up for my son? I think the young man is right, you are stupid."

My brows lift high to my hairline. Huh, I like her. My mother tries not to laugh, making me smile, and I keep a hold of her hand. Mr. Thimble pales when he sees how mad the man is.

"Mr. Volkov, I just…I…fighting is against school rules."

Mr. Volkov nods like he's agreeing and states, "Yet, these three boys are currently sitting in your office, and we've been called in, while the three boys that started the fight, on my youngest son no less, are sitting in the nurse's office. Tell me, Mr. Thimble, did you have these three boys checked out? Or my youngest son who had three big boys gang up on him? Or did you see the last name and decide to just punish the wrong kids?"

I smirk. I like this guy, he's awesome. My mother stands and I grab her arm to steady her.

"Mr. Thimble, you have wasted our time. I do not appreciate you calling me down here for the wrong reasons. I know the story you fabricated, but I also know my son, he stuck up for the right person, and you should be ashamed of yourself." She turns to look at me. "Say bye to your new friends, we can plan for you to meet after school hours, moy syn , because you're not coming back to this shithole. And I think a formal complaint to the board would suffice."

Alexandr and Damian lose it and burst out laughing as Mr. and Mrs. Volkov smile widely. I nod and go to say bye when Mr. Thimble stands, tripping over his words.

"Ms. Popov, I-I'm sorry it, it won't happen again. I'll ensure the other boys' parents come in. These boys will not be held accountable."

My mother raises her eyebrow, assessing him, watching him, making him sweat, and I smile.

"Fine. One chance. I don't want a phone call like this one again, do I make myself clear?" He nods. "Good. I will be removing my child for the rest of the day, and I expect an update on the three boys. Have a good afternoon, Mr. Thimble." He pales and I smile, keeping hold of my mother's arm while we walk out; I don't want her to fall. The Volkovs leave right behind us, not saying anything to the fumbling principal. As soon as we get to the parking lot, I notice several men standing around in suits, and I raise my brows. Huh, they must be important.

Damian comes up to me, giving me a bro hug, Al next.

"Thanks for helping, brother," Al states. I nod and smile.

"Any time."

"Popov…as in Igor Popov?" Mr. Volkov asks.

My mother smiles. "My father."

The man frowns and looks at my mother's car, then back to my mother. She must know what he's thinking because she states, "He disowned me when I fell pregnant and was no use to the family any longer. But it's okay."

He shakes his head, then replies, "It's not okay, you're clearly sick, and he has no clue because he's a stubborn old man. You need anything you contact me personally, do you understand? We're your family."

I look at them in confusion but my mother smiles and nods, while Mrs. Volkov gives her a smile too, and quickly gives her a hug. Alexandr and Damian give me a bro hug again and say bye, and I get into my mother's old Ford.

She drives off, and I wait a couple of minutes before I ask, "What did he mean by family, Mama?"

She sighs and pulls off to the side of the road and looks at me, smiling a little. "Bratva, son. My father is a brigadier in the Russian mafia. Dimitri Volkov is the Pahkan. I was shunned when I refused to terminate my pregnancy. Your father, well, I didn't know he was married until I told him about you, which you already know. I haven't kept this a secret from you because you are smart beyond your years, it's how you managed to get a scholarship for that fancy school. But you know he didn't want his wife to leave him. She couldn't have kids, so knowing about you would have either destroyed her or she would have tried taking you from me. It's why I never fought your father for child support and why I didn't tell my father who your father was—it would have started a war. After both my father and Juan left me to fend for myself, I made sure to never go back, but it looks like you've become close friends with the future of the Bratva."

She gives me a small smile and guilt rise in my guts. "I don't have to talk to them again if you don't want me to, Mama."

She chuckles lightly. "I would never ask you to do that. I think you three will become close, like brothers. And you'll probably follow in their footsteps, even though I pray you won't. I've always told you to live your life to the fullest ,and I'm not going to stop now, moy syn . You are your own person, and deserve to be whoever and whatever you want to be."

I smile at her. "I'll make you proud, Mama; you're my whole world." She smiles widely at me, then puts the car back into drive and takes us home. I couldn't imagine a life without my mama in it, she's all I need.

Four years later, though, the cancer took her, and I felt pain like no other. The Volkovs took in a teenage boy, struggling with grief, and they became my family.