I was huge compared to him, but I felt like a child again, in his arms.
A sobbing over his shoulder made me look up and the blond woman was watching me and my father, an expression of happiness on her face. A picture of a young girl sat beside me at a dinner table annoyingly stabbing me with her fork in my leg played in my head. Then that Christmas scene from before deepened and I saw her sitting next to me at the tree, her arm around my waist.
My papa must have felt me freeze, for he moved back and saw me staring at the woman. Kisa’s hand slipped from mine. And I walked forward and saw the woman was shivering.
“You’re my sister,” I stated and the woman tentatively nodded her head. “Tal… Tal…” I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to remember her name. A hand wrapped around mine and the woman said, “Talia. I’m your sister Talia.”
“Talia,” I said, the name sounding familiar, right, “My… sister.”
Talia cried and threw her arms around my waist. I tensed at the contact, fighting the urge to throw her off and attack. I didn’t know what to do. “You’re alive,” she sobbed. “I have you back. I have my brother back.”
Glancing at Kisa, I could see her hugging her father. She was happy for me, her blue eyes bright.
Talia pulled back and I stumbled back toward Kisa and held out my hand. “Kisa,” I said, desperately needing her close. It was all too much. My mind and body were exhausted and she was all I really knew. But as I held out my hand, the Pakhan—Kirill… his name was Kirill—took it and pulled me forward.
I braced my body again, but he said, “I never knew, Luka. I never knew… I believed you had killed my son and that is my sin to bear. I was so saddened that I didn’t suspect Abram or Alik. Abram was my brother in this life, I would never suspect he’d do such a thing. You were innocent and paid for a crime you didn’t commit.”
Kirill looked at Kisa. “And my action took you from her. My wife would be spinning in her grave if she knew that I had separated the two of you unnecessarily,” he dropped his head, “and gave her over to a lesser man… a sick man… a murderer.”
I stared at the pakhan and could see the sincerity in his eyes.
“Papa!” Kisa cried, but Kirill held up his hand.
“It’s the truth.” Kirill looked over my head and in the direction of Abram and pulled out his gun. He walked to my father and handed the gun to him.
“It’s your vengeance to kill him, Ivan.”
My father straightened his shoulders and a cold look spread on his face. “He reached into his pocket and pulled out his gun, handing it to Kirill. “It’s both our kill. He ordered for Alik to kill Rodion.”
A sense if familiarity filled me. These were Bratva men. These were men that shouldn’t be fucked with. This was my family… this was where I belonged.
My father walked to Abram, Kirill followed behind. Abram was still staring at his son dead on the floor. My father took off his coat, wearing a black suit underneath, and in one strike, backhanded Abram across the face. Abram looked like he didn’t even notice it.
Kirill and my father lifted their guns. No words were spoken. And after a few tense seconds they both fired shots into Abram’s chest and he slumped to the ground next to his dead son.
Kisa wrapped herself in my arms and I kissed her head, gripping her tight.
My father came toward me and asked, “Luka? Do you remember your mama?”
My heart beat wildly and my muscles tensed, but now that the key to my past was opened, a dark-haired woman’s face came into view and I exhaled like I’d just ran for hours.
Kisa squeezed my waist and lifted her head. “She’ll be so happy. She never gave up the belief that you were innocent. She knew you couldn’t have done it. She always believed in your innocence.”
Nerves suddenly racked my body and I leaned down and pressed my forehead against Kisa’s. “But I’m not the Luka she knew. I’m a monster, a murderer. This version of her son isn’t innocent.”
“You are our Luka. You are our son,” my father said sternly from beside me.
“Kisa, we need to get you home so Dr. Chazov can see you,” Kirill said moving behind Kisa. “You need a cast on that wrist. You need stitches, and medication.”
Kisa reluctantly nodded and put her hand in my cheek. I hadn’t noticed how pale she was, how in pain. “You’ll be fine, Luka. I’ll come straight to your parent’s house afterward. You need to see a doctor too. You’re hurt, bleeding.”
“No,” I said aggressively. “I go with you. I see your doctor.”
“Luka—”
“No! Kisa, solnyshko. I go with you,” I bent down to whisper at her ear, “I need you with me. I only feel at home with you. I don’t… I don’t know these people like I know you. You’re my now, they’re still my past.” I stared at her helplessly. “I can’t be without you. I need you.” I swallowed and fought to breathe, as I admitted, “I have fear in my heart… I am fearful of all of this.”
Kisa’s eyes saddened and I knew everyone around us had heard me. Kisa took my hand and turned to my father and Talia while I kept my head low.
“I’ll go see the doctor with Luka, then we’ll come to you. You’ll have time to prepare mama Tolstoi.”
I kept my eyes lowered like a coward. But I’d felt more in the last five minutes than I had in my whole life and it was too much.