Page 23 of Road to Ruin
“Yes. I’m his wife. I’m happy I’m Alex’s wife, Tommy, so you don’t need to do this. You don’t need to be here.”
Alex throws his arm around Genevieve’s shoulders, pulling her tightly into his side. He kisses her roughly on the temple, then lays his head on top of hers. “He’s not going anywhere, my sweet girl. He’s going to stay and fight Devon for me, aren’t you, Tommy? You owe me a lot of money, after all.”
An excited murmur sweeps throughout the room, echoing, bouncing off the walls. If Tommy’s fazed by Alex’s announcement, he doesn’t show it. “I’m not fighting anybody.Also,” he says, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t owe you a thing.”
Alex frowns, confusion written all over his face. “You owe me a sister, don’t you? Oh wait… I suppose, since I took yours, technically you don’t anymore. But still. Your sister is still living and breathing, whereas the sister I entrusted to you for safekeeping is not. Therefore, there’s an imbalance in our somewhat…strained…friendship. The only way I can think of alleviating that strain is if you reimburse the obnoxious amount of money I lost that night. One point eight million dollars, to be precise. Now, I don’t normally do this,” he says conspiratorially. “But I will accept a check in this instance.”
“I’m not paying you a cent. You told me to fight that night, so I fought. I can’t be in two places at once.”
“You should have told me,” Alex snaps. “You should have refused! You should have reminded me you were watching Serena. I would have—”
“You would have had me killed. When was the last time someone told you no, Alex? When was the last time someone refused to do something for you?”
Alex stands as still as a statue, his mouth open, his eyebrows raised. “I don’t remember,” he says. “That’s not the point. You should have realized which of my commands took precedence over the other, and you should have acted accordingly.”
This whole conversation is so familiar, it hurts to even hear it. Alex is delusional, has been for years. Back when we were together, back at the beginning, when I first met him and we were only seventeen years old, he was nothing like this. He was kind. He was calm. He was actually funny, of all things. But when his father died two years later, leaving him in control of the Bastien family estate, he changed so dramatically that I thought he might have had a nervous breakdown. He developed a mean streak a mile wide, and then that mile turned into an ocean, and the boy I fell in love with was gone forever. I could see that in the cold, hard way he spoke to me. The very first time he hit me, I packed up my things and I left the Bastien mansion, never to return.
“Don’t make him fight, Alex. Please. Not tonight. I’ve had such a lovely time. It would really ruin things for me.” Genevieve speaks softly into his ear, but loud enough that I hear her. She presses her body up against Alex, resting her chin on his shoulder. Tommy shudders, and Alex catches his reaction; it seems to make him deliriously happy.
“I’m afraid I’m not that forgiving, princess. I’m very angry with Tommy Boy. He’s on my shit list. And once you’re on the list, you don’t get off it. Isn’t that right, Nikita?”
Venom spikes in my veins, burning me up from the inside. “Fucking child. You can shove your stupid shit list back up your ass.”
A tense moment follows. People don’t talk to Alex like this. They bow and scrape—please, sir, thank you, sir, how high, sir? It makes me physically sick to think of him in such a position of power, where everyone surrounding him is so afraid for their own safety and the safety of their families that they’ll swallow their pride and a handful of razor blades at the same time if it means staying in his good graces. The man is a psychopath.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Tommy Kendrick smiling.
“He can’t fight Devon now, anyway,” Genevieve says matter-of-factly. “He’s out of shape. Look at him. It wouldn’t be a very entertaining match if he went up against your best guy now, would it?”
Out of shape? If Tommy’s out of shape, then I’m the Queen of England. You can see the muscle definition in his arms through his damn sweatshirt, for crying out loud. Alex taps at his mouth with his index finger, apparently thinking. He squints, then pouts. “I suppose I’ve seen him bigger. Maybe you’re right. Maybe he should train a little before he steps into the ring. Devon is the reigning champion, after all. He’d knock him the fuck out before he could find his feet. People aren’t going to bet on a fight like that.”
Genevieve smiles sweetly, and I have to pinch myself. Is Alex really that smitten that he can’t see when he’s being played? I don’t care if he is. It’s just…well, a miracle. I never thought I’d see the day.
“You can train for a month,” Alex says. “On one condition. West has to be there every session. Every day. If you try and slip him, if you try and leave town again…”
Tommy’s face is a blank slate again. “You’ll kill my sister?”
“No. Of course not. I love her. I might cut off one of her fingers, though. Or maybe one of her ears. Don’t look at me like that, David. I’m a reasonable man. Genevieve will be perfectly safe if you just do as you’re told. It’s a matter of simply obeying instructions. Do you understand?”
David grunts.
Alex stares at Tommy. “I’m afraid I’m going to need to hear you say it. Say you understand, Thomas.”
For a second, I don’t think he’s going to do it, but then Tommy looks at his sister and his defiance seems to melt away like so much smoke. “I understand that you want me to fight. I understand that you want me to train. I understand that you want West to be my babysitter.”
Alex nods approvingly. “All right. Good. Then you two should leave. Now. Before I change my mind. Oh, and take that with you. She’s giving me a fucking migraine.” He’s referring to me, of course. He jerks his head in my direction, rolling his eyes.
I turn around and walk away. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how angry he’s made me. I won’t give him the satisfaction of witnessing the relief in my eyes. It was a bold move coming here tonight; I should have listened to Mitch, and yet I steamrollered ahead and was my reckless self, as per usual. Junior’s obviously out fucking a waitress somewhere, getting wasted just like Mitch said he would be, and I risked my neck on a hunch. The crowd divides down the middle as I walk toward the exit, which makes a change from how they reacted to me when I showed up. Then I realize that it’s not me they’re making way for. It’s Tommy Kendrick and his brother, both of whom are right behind me.
“Just keep going,” Tommy hisses. “Don’t look back.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on it.”
The Bastien mausoleum is frigid, freezing cold as we emerge into the large, eerie space. The old guy is gone, leaving all of the polished coins unguarded. There are probably thousands of dollars left behind in tribute to the Bastien family here. Thousands of dollars that no one will dare disturb, no matter how much they might have just lost at the fights. To interfere with the tributes would be to invite the wrath of the Bastien ancestors down on their heads, after all, and most people have enough trouble with the living members of the Bastien family as it is, without pissing off the dead ones.
As soon as we’re out in the cemetery, I round on the two men behind me, placing my hands on my hips. “You’d better not have been lying to me. Junior better not have been down there tonight.”
David quirks an eyebrow at me. “Why the fuck would we lie about that? And how do you know Junior anyway? Isn’t he a little…young for you?”
