34. Ivan

34

IVAN

C harlotte doesn't know what I'm planning. If she did, she'd never let me go through with it. But I'm not going to tell her the details.

Just that I'm going to do my best to fix what I've broken.

We get a ride across the border to Mexico—an expensive one, given who I have to contact in order to get it, another associate of "Dave's" who doesn't come cheap. But we make it, and although I can see the fear in Charlotte's eyes when we hand over our forged passports, they go through without issue.

We're home free. She doesn't say anything else about my promise to get her back home, and oddly, I feel like she's hoping I've forgotten about it. Like she wants me to, because she's afraid of what I'll do to make that happen.

Truthfully, I'm afraid of what will happen, too. But I refuse to force her into exile with me. She's given up everything to be mine, and as much as I want to ride off into the sunset with her, I have to play this one last card. I didn't want to—but I can't in good conscience hold onto it.

Not when I know how deeply I love her, now. Not when I know there's a chance I can really make it right.

If I can give her her old life back, then I need to be willing to sacrifice my new one. And I'll do that, for her.

I've realized that there's nothing I wouldn't do for her.

"This is beautiful," Charlotte breathes, when we walk into the beachside villa that I rented for us. It faces the water, a sandy private beach stretching out in front of the porch, and inside is big and airy, all light wooden floors and huge windows. The outside is a pretty white stone, with a terracotta roof and flowers blooming all around it, and my chest aches for reasons that have nothing to do with the gunshot wounds in my shoulder and side.

I want to stay here with her. I want to throw out all the plans I've just made, wrap her in my arms, and tell her this is our new home until she decides she wants to move on to somewhere else. I want to tell her that I'll give her anything else she wants, so long as I don't have to lose her.

But she's made it clear from the beginning that what she really wants is to go home. That she wants her friends. The life I stole away. And I need to give that back to her, even if she thinks she's willing to give it up now for me.

For the rest of the evening, though, I pretend that's not what's going to happen. We shower in the huge outdoor shower in the back. Charlotte slides down to her knees, taking me in her mouth as I run my hands through her wet hair, until I can't stand it any longer. I sink down onto the wooden bench next to the wall, sitting back as she climbs into my lap and rides me until we both come. She keeps letting me come inside of her, and even though I grabbed some contraceptives from the last pharmacy we were able to stop at, I know we need to quit.

I don't want to, though. I want to fill her up, every time I fuck her. And neither of us seems willing to think too hard about the potential consequences.

When we're done, we dry off and get dressed, and we walk down to the store that's a few blocks away. I buy us a bottle of tequila, limes, and all of the things I need to make Charlotte a steak dinner— not over a campfire this time. She sits at the small island in the airy kitchen, sipping at the tequila soda and lime while I cook a steak with mushrooms and onions, street corn, and a salad. We eat at the island, with the salty breeze from the water coming in, and we go to sleep in the comfortable king-sized bed in the master bedroom, more of the salt breeze blowing in around us. I had thought I'd want to be inside Charlotte as many times as I could before I do what I need to in order to fix all of this, but I find that tonight, at least, I want to hold her instead. There will still be a little time, at least, and tonight, I just want her in my arms.

I give myself that one day, from the time we get to Mexico until the following morning, to just be happy with her. To have a taste of what it would be like if I could live this dream forever. I fall asleep knowing she loves me, and I wake up with her hair spilling over my shoulder, her sweet scent in my nose, and her soft skin against mine.

And I finally know— really know—what it means to be happy.

I get up, slowly, before she wakes up, and I go out to the back porch to make a call. I figure out what time it will be back in Chicago, and dial the number.

Dariev, one of my father's men, answers on the second ring.

"Dari," I speak quickly, glancing back into the house to make sure that Charlotte isn't up yet. "It's Ivan. I need you to do something for me."

He sounds gruff, a little sleepy. "What is it, Ivan? Anything?"

"I need you to find out which of the next shipments of women my father will personally be at. Me, Niki, Ani, Lev, we're all out. They're trying to catch me, I'm on the run. You know that, right?"

There's a sound like him scratching the stubble on his chin. " Da . I know that. I'm only speaking with you now because we were such close friends."

"And you hate what my father has been doing as much as I do, right? You told me before that you think this is bullshit."

" Da," he agrees. "Drugs, guns, those are one thing. Women are another. It's not right."

"Exactly. If you can get the exact date and time of the next shipment that my father will personally oversee, and if you can make sure that he's there, whatever it takes, I'll pay you ten million. Wired to an account as soon as I'm sure he'll be there."

"Ten—Ivan, what's going on?"

I take a deep breath. At this point, I reason, telling Dari the truth about what I've been doing doesn't afford any risk. He doesn't know where I am, and I'm using a burner. More than likely, my father has already figured out that I was informing for the FBI. "I was working to take him down," I admit. "I had to cut out before I could finish the job. But if you can get that for me, and if you can make sure he's there, the FBI will get him. And if I can give Dima Kariyev to them, directly, I'll be able to ask for whatever I want."

"Shit." Dari sounds uncertain. "The fucking FBI, brat ? What happens to me, if I get him there? They take me in, too? I've got no desire to go to prison."

"No. Amnesty for us both, for working with them. For getting Dima into their hands. I'll make sure of it for you, too. And with my father done, and Lev as well, we can pick up the pieces." I take a slow breath, considering. "I'll be the only Kariyev left. The other pakhans will want to challenge me, if I take it. They'd want to challenge anyone other than one of my brothers who did. But I don't want it. If you do, my father's empire, it's yours. I'll sign everything over to you, so long as I get to keep my own money I've accumulated. You can run it all, so long as you want the headaches that go along with it."

"You don't want to be pakhan ?" There's still that doubt in Dari's voice.

"No," I tell him firmly. "Absolutely not. I want out. It's what I've always wanted. But I'll give you whatever you want, if you help me with this."

Dari takes a slow breath. For a moment, I think he's going to tell me no. And if he does, the only card I have left is the one I really, really don't want to follow through on.

But I will if I have to. For Charlotte.

"Aright," he says, finally. "For your father, I want the ten million. Amnesty. And you sign over his businesses when they're in your name. I get the title of pakhan . Full authority. You have no more input."

"Done." I agree without hesitation. "Call me back with the information. Just as soon as you have it. I'm counting on you. How long?"

"End of the day," Dari says. "Tomorrow morning at the latest."

"Good. Thank you, brat . This means more than you know."

When I hang up, Charlotte still isn't awake. I glance around to make sure, and then make the second call.

This one is to Bradley.

"Hello?" He sounds pissed off when he answers. I don't bother beating around the bush with him, or with pleasantries.

"It's Ivan Kariyev. I have a deal for you."

There's a long pause, one that stretches out far enough that I almost think he might have hung up. "Go on," he says finally, and it's clear from his tone that he's placating me.

"I'll turn myself in," I say flatly. "If you keep Charlotte safe. You can do whatever you want with me. I'll accept full responsibility for all of it. But nothing happens to her. No charges, no plea deals, no consequences whatsoever. And you get her a restraining order against Nate. He doesn't get to go near her." I pause for a moment, letting it sink in. "You know as well as I do that he'll take his anger out on her as soon as he can get his hands on her again."

Bradley is quiet again for a long moment. "That's a big ask," he says finally.

"No, it's not. Bring your boss along. I bet you get a raise for bringing me in. It'll be a big one for you. I'll go along with whatever you wanna slap on me. Just keep her out of it."

I have to force myself not to hold my breath. Bradley's boss being there is a big part of it. I need that, or the plan doesn't work. I can't really be sure that he will be there, but I have a feeling Bradley is susceptible to leading suggestions.

"Fine," Bradley says. "Deal. But no funny business, alright?"

"No funny business," I agree. "Meet me in the Tijuana River Valley, tomorrow at noon. I'll bring Charlotte to you, and you can take me in. We both get what we want."

Bradley is quiet again, and I can tell he's mulling it over, looking for a hole in the plan. Looking for a reason to distrust me. "I'll be there," he says finally, and the line goes dead.

I drop the burner phone into my lap, letting out a heavy breath. If Dari doesn't screw me over, this plan just might work.

If he does, then I'm looking at a life behind bars, or worse. But if there's one man from my former life that I trust, it's him.

And if it all falls apart, I've decided that doesn't matter. I look up, hearing footsteps, and see Charlotte through the window, messy-haired and sleepy-eyed, walking in one of my t-shirts into the kitchen. I know all over again, as I see her, that I'd do anything to keep her safe.

I've always feared prison over death. The end is preferable to a life in a cage. But all that matters now is that she gets to go home.

I've taken enough from her. And now, I'll do whatever I need to in order to give it back.