Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

LEO

Two weeks after his retirement kill, I'm standing over the casket gazing at the weathered but timeless face of Ivan. He looks at peace, now that he's not coughing and in pain.

Ty stands beside me, wiping tears from his eyes as he gazes down at Ivan. "I'm going to miss him." He sniffles.

I know he is. Ivan and Ty got close in the two weeks we stayed at the cabin. Almost every day, Ivan would ask for a Russian baked delicacy, and Ty would bake it for him, trying to pack in memories for him in his last days. They also talked. A lot. I never joined in on the conversations, but I liked to listen to them. There was so much I didn't know about Ivan.

The cabin we lived in while in Russia was the one he was born in, having stayed there his entire life. His parents left him there when he was sixteen without warning and never returned. He had no idea what happened to them and didn't want to know. He said being left alone was the only time in his life he was at peace.

"That was," he said in his heavily accented English, "until I met you, nieto. You give me purpose."

A lump formed in my throat as I listened to him. I don't know if I'll cry—I never cry, no matter what happens—but I did feel more emotion listening to Ivan than I have about anything in my life, besides my love for Ty.

Ty fed Ivan his meals, taking care of him better than I could have. I tried, but Ty shooed me away, saying he had it. I was there when he needed me for anything, like helping Ivan out of bed and getting him in the shower, but other than that, Ty took on the job of being his home health aide. He was there, making sure Ivan was comfortable. I thought after the first few days, he'd get tired of it, but Ty seemed content to make sure Ivan had peace at his end.

The day before he died, Ivan sat up with more vigor than Ty and I were used to. "Take me to see trees, kolibri, nieto. I want to feel earth before I return to it."

We got him dressed in warm clothes and led him outside, to the place we used for target practice. Ivan smiled when he saw the bullet holes in the tree trunks and the shell casings on the ground. He gazed around with weary eyes and breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of the morning. "This perfect. Remind me of home." He looked down at both of us, his eyes drooping but his face radiating happiness, something I've never seen outside of a kill. "But here, I have family."

Ty buried his face in Ivan's chest, not wanting him to see his tears. "You're my family, Ivan. I'm glad I got to know you."

"Me too, kolibri." He hugged Ty tight, his thin arms not seeming to want to let him go.

To my surprise, when he let him go, he waved me over, arms outstretched for me. I went willingly, receiving the first hug I'd ever gotten from Ivan. Even though he was frail, it packed strength. I held on as long as I could.

The next morning, we found Ivan dead, arms over his chest and a permanent smile etched on his face.

Now, we're holding his funeral, his family around to mourn him. That's to be expected, since the only friends Ivan had were handlers whose faces no one saw.

Kissing Ty on the top of his head, I say, "I know, kotenok. He's not in pain anymore." I would never give Ty any platitudes, but it's true in this case. In his last days, Ivan was in an immense amount of pain, but he tried not to show it. If I hadn't lived with him for eight years, around each other night and day, I never would have noticed. He looks almost serene now.

It's rare that someone in our business would have a natural death—as far as it not being a murder. And with Ivan being seventy five, he surpassed his life expectancy by at least a quarter of a century.

Blu steps up beside us, peering at Ivan's relaxed face. "He looks like Clinton. It's uncanny."

"And nothing like Henry." I guess my father took after our grandmother, who died before I was born. I don't know what she looked like.

June wraps his arm around Blu's waist. "You okay?"

"Perfect, little fox," he mutters, kissing his forehead.

We all take a seat, allowing Clinton and Barbara to approach the coffin. Like Ty, Clinton is in a puddle of tears as he speaks softly to Ivan's corpse. It must be something that regular people do, because Ivan sure can't hear him. They spent more time together after we went to Clinton's house for dinner. He and Barbara visited the cabin a few times to talk to Ivan and for Clinton to reconnect with him in his last days. I didn't like so many people knowing about my little slice of heaven, but it was important to Ivan, so I didn't complain.

The funeral officiant says some things about Ivan being a good man and returning to the earth and becoming dust. That last part is true. Ivan being a good man? Not so much. He was as good to me as could be expected for a man that was teaching his grandson how to torture and kill, and he wasn't abusive. Unlike my father and the stupid fucking director from the reform home, he didn't hit me. He took the time to teach me as much as he could. His training might have hurt—like when he made me dig graves in freezing temperatures—but it made me better at my job. I got strong, able to break through ground that was nearly frozen solid. That strength came in handy.

After the funeral is over, we stand around and talk for a moment. Clinton brings me in for a long hug that I return, only so I can still appear normal to him. He knows I'm like Blu, but he doesn't give me the haunted looks that my parents used to give me. Clinton actually treated me like I was a kid, not a burden, even though I could tell he didn't think I was normal.

Pulling away, he pats my shoulder. "Come visit me, Leo. We'd love to have you and Ty over for dinner."

"I will, Uncle Clinton. Great to see you, Aunt Barbara," I say to her, giving her a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug.

Clinton wipes under his eyes as more tears leak. "I'd like to hear more stories about Papa, if you don't mind."

"Don't mind at all." There's not much I can tell him that doesn't involve torturing, killing, or disposing of a body. Good thing I'm adept at lying and can weave a tale together to l make him happy.

I lead Ty out of the funeral home, opening the car door for him so he can slide inside. He sighs heavily when I lean over him to put on his seatbelt. Kneeling just outside the door, I tip his face over to me while I grip his hand. "You okay, kotenok?"

He nods, even though a few tears leak from his eye. "I am. I know he's not in pain, but it's sad that he's gone. I know you don't feel regular feelings, but?—"

"I know what you mean. I'm sad too. Ivan was the only parent I had that cared about me. After spending so much time with someone, it's hard not to feel something for them. Ivan was … my family." For the first time in my life, I know what normal people feel. This is grief.

Ty frames my face, his expression one of deep sorrow. "I know, baby. I'm always here if you need me. You want to talk about him?"

I shake my head. "No. I think everything that needed to be said to and about Ivan already was. Thank you, though." I lean in and give him a soft kiss, easing both of our sadness.

A few days later, the urn with Ivan's ashes is delivered to my condo, and Ty and I head to the cabin to spread them. Ty asked why I didn't include everyone, but me and Ivan were a team. The funeral service was for everyone else. This is private.

Ty and I walk to where we have target practice, where we took Ivan on his last good day and spread his ashes. Sniffles fill the air as Ty dips his hand into the urn for a fistful of ashes. "I hope you've found peace, Ivan." He lets the ashes slip through his fingers.

Tipping the urn over, I walk around, spreading the ashes evenly around the tree stumps. "Peace be with you, Ivan. Thank you for all your lessons," I mutter in Russian.

When all of his ashes are emptied from the urn, I walk back over to Ty, who gathers me in his arms. "I love you, baby," Ty says, giving me comfort with his strength.

"I love you too, kotenok. Thank you for being here with me."

Ty smiles, rubbing my cheek with his clean hand. "Always. Now let's go clean up the house. Ivan didn't leave much of a mess, but I want to air it out. The cloud of death seems to be hanging over the place."

Nodding, I give him a quick kiss, and we thread our fingers together.

We start cleaning up immediately. I plan to purchase a new mattress in the next few days. No way will I lie Ty on this bed, knowing Ivan took his last breath on it.

Some of the desserts Ty made for Ivan are still out, and I grab a piece of strawberry pirog, the last thing Ty fed him. It's hard to swallow with the lump lodged in my throat, but I manage. Ivan was right, Ty made these perfectly. I only had them once when we went into town and Ivan was in a giving mood. He turned it down, saying no one could make it as good as his grandmother. Ty changed his mind on that front.

The man in question steps out of the bedroom, stuffing the used sheets in a garbage bag. He snaps off his gloves and slides them in the bag as well before walking over to me. He scoops up a piece of pirog, biting into it and groaning. "Maybe we should add this to the menu. Or I can switch them out. Dedicate one day a month to Ivan. What do you think?"

Smiling, I turn and put my arm around his waist. "You really loved him, didn't you?"

"Is it weird that I looked at him like a grandfather in such a short period of time? Even though he seemed cold, he reminded me of you. His tales, his life, his demeanor."

"I'm not a cranky old man," I retort, jostling him in my arms.

"No?" Ty asks, voice light as he smiles at me. I raise an eyebrow at him. He laughs, shaking his head. Then he sobers. "I'm going to miss him. Despite only knowing him for a few months, I loved him."

Smiling a sad smile, I nod. "He loved you too, kotenok. He may have never said it, but he looked at you with love."

Ty kisses me again, then sighs. "Ivan didn't have much, but what do you want me to do with his suitcase?"

"I'll put it in the storage closet here," I say. Ty nods, pulling his lips in. "Hey, don't be sad, kotenok. Ivan lived a full life. He did what he wanted and loved." I wipe the tear streaking down his face.

A quick laugh bursts from his lips, and I look at him in confusion.

"For a psychopath, you sure know what to say when I'm hurting. Thank you." Ty kisses my palm.

"I'll always be here to comfort you, Tyshawn. I love you. I'm so glad you're in my life, kotenok."

"I feel the same way. Who would have thought me walking in on you after you killed someone would have led to this? Love, a new bakery, more family? My life feels more complete now, and it's all because of you."

Lacing our fingers together, I lead him into the room and grab Ivan's suitcase. I glance down at the tattered case, weighing it in my hand. In this case are the last possession of a man I looked up to. The possessions of a man that meant more to me than I thought.

Blu told me that psychopaths aren't all built the same. The tumult of emotions I feel towards Ivan solidifies that. He might have been a mean and ornery old man, but he cared for me. He showed it by his diligence to teach me what I needed to know to survive.

My father told me Ivan would end up killing me for my attitude, his voice almost sounding hopeful. But Ivan molded me into a man that could kill and remain free, giving me tools to survive this life I didn't ask for.

"You're my family, kotenok. You're mine just as I'm yours. You're not going to leave me, right? No matter what?" I can't help how small my voice sounds. Ivan was the one constant in my life. Now that he's gone, my mind is spinning, and I want to hold on to everything I have. I tried to hold on to him, give him all I could in his last few days, but I wasn't able to keep him here. Ty has to stay with me.

Ty smiles knowingly, hugging me tight. "I'll never leave you, baby. You're mine. You can't get rid of me now."

I kiss the top of his head and hold him tight. I never want to let him go. We're forever.