Or someone.
Someone who says to Clem, “Think very carefully about what you say next.”
“Or what?” Clem asks Cheslav, drawing himself to his full football height. “She’s not going to let your boy shoot me.”
No, I wasn’t, but… “What did you mean by ‘the deal.’”
Again Clem looks to Cheslav.
And suddenly he doesn’t have to tell me what he meant. Suddenly, it’s very, very clear. Oh my God….
The ocean is no longer still and placid behind my brother. It’s now inside my head, crashing with the realization. “You didn’t owe him money. You two planned this.”
I know I’m right when Cheslav, who’s never failed to look me straight in the eye before averts his gaze.
“Krasotka…” he starts.
At the same time, Clem calls out, “It was all his idea, sis! He knew I was desperate for some dollars, and he’s the one who took advantage.”
“How much?” I ask, looking at Clem over my shoulder. “How much did it cost for you to agree to whore your sister out?”
I guess my brother must have a tiny kernel of shame inside his body. He shakes his head, refusing to answer.
But Cheslav says, “Fifty thousand dollars.”
The number hits me like a punch to the chest.
“But you were smart enough to lie about that,” I guess, turning back to Cheslav. “You made it a number I couldn’t possibly hope to pay back in under a month.”
Cheslav jerks like I’ve slapped him. But he nods, confirming my guess.
And then there’s only one question left. “Why?”
“I…” Cheslav looks at the roof of the veranda. Then the sand. Then finally back at me. “I saw you, and I fell for you. I told you truth about that. But the thing is, you didn’t see me. I was in the box seats for last Carolina Bobcats game of the decade when they brought all ten of 2010s Princess South Carolinas out. There were ten women on stage, but the only princess I saw was you.
“At halftime, I went to find you, and you were with your brother. He was telling you about all the guys on his team who wanted to hook up with you now that you were no longer cheerleader, and it wasn’t against the rules. You reminded him about how you don’t date athletes…”
Cheslav grimaces like the memory still pains him somehow. “I knew then it would be impossible to get you to give me a chance without some finessing. But Rustanovs do not give up, and we are very good at coming up with schemes to get what we want. So I made deal with your brother. I thought few days would be enough. It wasn’t. The small ember inside me from the first moment I saw you… it became fire. And I had to find you again. Convince you to be with me.”
“So you planned this from start to finish,” I say when he falls quiet. “And I’d believed every moment of our supposed romance. I went against every practical instinct I had to convince myself what we had was real. But it wasn’t. It was all a pile of lies.”
Cheslav reacts like my words are whips hitting him over and over again. “It wasn’t a pile of lies. At least not for me.”
I don’t let him finish. I already know that any explanation he could give me will only make me feel more stupid.
“Fifty-thousand,” I say, my voice hard and cynical. “That wasn’t enough to buy his silence. He’s probably already blown through it.”
“Yes, he has,” Cheslav answers with a disgusted sneer. “He also tried to call me through Vlad to see if I was interested in purchasing his lifelong silence for a much larger sum. I told him, no. And now he is here.”
It feels like I’m drinking poison as I take in Cheslav’s confession. Then I turn to my brother. My horrible, despicable brother. “That’s why you’re here, right? Because you wanted more?”
Solid hit. Clem rears back, then does what he always does when he feels attacked. Lashes out and blames all the consequences of his own actions on someone else. “If you had just let me have my money like I told you to.”
“I was keeping that money to backpay your child support, you damn narcissist. And guess what, even if I wasn’t, that’s still not a good enough reason to lie and use me. You used my love for you, knowing I would do anything for you. And in my blind need to protect you, I walked right into your trap! You are nothing but a user who doesn’t care about anybody but himself.”
Clem flinches at my words, but then he screws up his face, his expression becoming ugly and defensive. “It was only supposed to be for a few days, but you still here. So I guess you were okay with being this White dude’s whore. I had a feeling. Way you talk. Way you act. Like you so much better than all my boys who tried to holler at you—”