Chapter 2

Samara~

M y feet were killing me, but that was my own damn fault. I could have easily said no when my boss had asked me if I could stay over for another two hours to cover a late vacancy, but it was hard to say no to earning some extra money. While we weren't exactly poor, we also weren't driving to the Hamptons every weekend, so every penny helped, and I took my responsibilities seriously.

See, ten years ago, my parents, Makari and Ania Andreev, had been killed while on vacation. My mother had never been a good swimmer, and when the tide's current had shifted momentum, it had dragged her out to sea, and my father had gone after her. Now, while my father had been a decent swimmer, he hadn't been strong enough to save them both. So, rather than give up the fight on his wife's life, he had followed her into the afterlife, something that hadn't surprised me nor my sister, Masha.

Luckily for us, we'd been raised by parents that had been crazy in love with each other, and the memories of them together always brought a smile to my face. My sister and I were second-generation Americans, but my paternal grandparents had raised my father to love life and honor his heritage, and if anyone knew anything about Russians, then it was known that they were a boisterous lot. My father used to dance with my mother in our living room all the time, and though my mother had been raised as an American by her parents, my father had kept our Russian ancestry very alive in our home.

At any rate, even though their unexpected deaths had almost crippled me and my sister, knowing that they'd gone to their next lives together had been a small comfort. In this life, my father had been a security guard, and my mother had been an art teacher, and I liked to believe that my father was still protecting his carefree wife wherever they were now.

So, at twenty-three, all that I'd had left had been my twenty-year-old sister, and we'd become each other's entire lives during those dark times. With not much to my parents' estate, we hadn't been left a whole lot after the matter had been settled and the government had taken their share in inheritance taxes. Plus, since Masha had still been living with my parents to save up for a down payment on a condo, she'd hadn't been required to work forty-hours like most people. Before my parents' deaths, she'd had all the time in the world to get her life together, and we'd all been proud of just how maturely she'd been handling her money and future plans. However, that all changed after losing our parents, and now we were like every other person just trying to keep the lights on and being happy doing it.

So, ten years later, we were still roommates and the condo that we lived in was mortgaged in both our names. I worked as a cocktail waitress, and Masha worked as a diner waitress, so neither of us were raking in enough money to live on our own without stressing the hell out. Nonetheless, we were close enough that it wasn't an issue to live together. Masha and I got along, and with neither of us having ever been in a serious relationship, we were just fine being roommates until it was no longer practical.

Now, that wasn't to say that we didn't date or have had boyfriends, because we'd had. Masha had taken after our father in looks, which had given her black hair with soulful brown eyes, and with her five-foot-two petite frame, lots of men had tried their hand at snagging my sister. Unfortunately, Masha was also very headstrong, and once it became clear that she couldn't be controlled, most men bailed.

As for me, I'd taken after our mother, leaving me with blonde hair and blue eyes. However, where Mom and Masha had been blessed with a feminine petiteness, I was five-foot-five and had curves that didn't go away, no matter how hard I exercised. Dad used to always say that I'd taken after Babushka Andreev, and that was proof enough if you just looked at one of my grandmother's old pictures. Still, I had no real complaints about the way that I looked because it wouldn't make a difference if I did.

I also didn't want to think about my dismal dating life right now. While I had my own issues, my biggest problem was that I wanted the same magic that had existed in my parents' marriage, even though I knew that love was different for everyone. Nonetheless, I wanted a man that looked at me the way that my father used to look at my mother, and men like that just didn't exist anymore. Most men would have saved themselves that fateful day out in the ocean, and that wasn't what I wanted for myself. Yeah, I might end up alone because of my standards, but I'd rather be alone than saddled with someone that might become more of a burden than a partner later in life.

Ahem.

With no desire to revisit my past, I ignored the little voice in the back of my head, then started running my bath. Normally, I was a shower-in-the-morning person, but my heels had really done a number on me tonight, so instead of just soaking my toes, I figured that my whole body could use some pampering. Plus, I had the next two nights off, so a hot bath was a good place to start my time off.

Unfortunately, even though my job paid well, I didn't have a set schedule, so it was kind of hard to plan a life when I didn't know what my workdays would be from week to week. It also didn't matter that I didn't have a life outside work, or even if I wanted one. After losing my parents so unexpectedly, I considered routine and consistency good things to have in a person's life. I appreciated predictability, and I could do without any more surprises in my life.

"Sam?"

"In the bathroom," I called out.

A few seconds later, Masha's pretty face peeked inside my en suite bathroom. When we'd gotten the condo, Masha had insisted on me taking the master-bedroom, though she'd needed the space more than I'd had. "I got a good tip tonight, so I was thinking that we could splurge on take-out."

Responsibility had me wanting to tell her no, but she looked so damn happy at the thought of take-out that I just couldn't bring myself to kill her dreams. So, instead of lecturing her on needless spending, I asked, "What sounds good?"

"Benito's on Marchman Street," she answered quickly, suggesting that she'd been thinking about this all the way home.

As I went back to preparing my bath, I asked, "Did you want to eat out or just have it delivered?"

"Delivered," she answered firmly. "Even with the generous tip today, I've had my fill of people."

"Sounds good," I replied as I tossed bath salts into the water. "My feet are killing me."

"I can also go pick it up," Masha volunteered, and I almost automatically replied with a no. However, my sister was thirty, legally a grown adult, and I needed to loosen the chains a bit and trust her enough to be able to do something as simple as go pick up some damn food. We had one car between us, and I let her use it most of the time because I didn't like the idea of her walking everywhere or taking public transportation.

The thing was that you couldn't live in Port Townsend without knowing that the streets were run by organized crime. In fact, the entire state was controlled by the Italian Mafia, the Irish Mob, and the Russian Bratva, so it was easy to find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time if you weren't paying attention. Plus, all three syndicates were equally deadly, not much for mercy among any of them. While I'd always done my best to mind my own business, lots of people that minded their own business still found themselves on the other end of a pistol.

"Sure," I replied, hoping that I was disguising my mother hen well. "I'll take a burrito. I can cut it in half, then eat the rest of it for lunch tomorrow."

"Oooh, that sounds like a good idea," Masha muttered. "Burritos are good leftovers."

Masha and I were not fans of letting food go to waste, so even if the food didn't age well the next day, we usually still ate it. While we hadn't grown up poor by any means, when you experienced a sudden loss like we'd had, it could change you in ways that you hadn't ever expected. Though Masha and I were far from starving, you never knew when food could become a luxury in life, so we did our best to appreciate all our blessings.

"Okay, so give me about half an hour, then order dinner," I told her. "That should be long enough to soak the day away."

Masha grinned. "There's not enough hot water in the world for that."

I grinned back. "Maybe we should save money for a trip and go to a hot spring."

Her smile dimmed a bit, but that was because we'd never really be able to afford such an extravagant trip. "Maybe we should."

"Okay, get," I teased. "My bath is waiting."

Once Masha shut the door behind her, I removed my clothes, then sank into the tub of bubbles, praying that the bath salts would do their thing. I didn't have any vices, so this was it for me. Now, while I didn't object to having a drink or two, I didn't use alcohol as a coping mechanism. I also didn't use drugs, sex, gambling, spending, or anything else to cope with my bad days. I was all that Masha had left in the world, so I'd never take needless risks with my life.

As the bubbles teased my chin, I let out a heavy sigh, letting the heat from the water seep into my tired bones. In truth, my life wasn't a bad or stressful one, but I'd had plans for a happier life before my parents had passed, and I mourned that dream sometimes. I mourned for the life that I could have had, though I made sure not to do it in front of Masha. Like me, she had her own ghosts, so she didn't need to see mine when they made an appearance.

Closing my eyes, I pushed all thoughts from my head; all, except for a burrito.