Page 157 of Dance of Defiance
“I said is thatclear, Stepan,” he snarls.
“Da,pakhan.”
“Good,” Papa growls. Then he turns to smile at Gunner. “Welcome back to New York, my friend.”
“Ja, good to be here,” Gunner grins savagely. He pulls a pack of Dutch cigarettes from his pocket and slips one between his lips, lighting up without asking for permission.
“As I was explaining to my number two,” Papa continues, “you and your men have whatever you need at your disposal.”
Gunner nods, sucking on his cigarette. “To start, we need a base of operations for our hunt.”
Papa grins. “The old club is yours.”
I shudder inside. The defunct nightclub deep in Brooklyn is where my father made me watch Gunner “go to work” on the people he’d hunted for Papa.
The South African grins a toothy, gold-glinting smile. “I remember the place,” he sighs fondly. “Good memories,ja?”
Papa turns to grin at Stepan and I.
“Weare going to be the ones to find your runaway bride, boy,” he snaps. “And when we do, Bogdan will owe mefor life. Between that and the marriage?” He smiles darkly. “Iwillhave Cosimo Sangrini’s ear.” I grit my teeth when he jabs a finger in my direction. “That’s your future, Roman. An empire for the ages.”
He walks over to me, clapping me heavily on the shoulder.
“This wedding will happen,” he growls. “Be a fucking man about it. Donotdisappoint me.”
28
ROMAN
Why the fuckare you here?
There are so many lies I want to tell myself. That I need final closure. To tell him to stay the fuck out of my life and to makedamnsure he realizes that no one can ever know what happened between us.
Or even to warn him that my father has let loose Gunner and his psychotic war dogs to look for Dasha, and that it might come back on him.
But as I skulk down the dark alley behind the Mercury Theater and bring the flask to my lips, I know none of those is the real reason I’m here.
I’m here because I just fuckingmiss him.
I blink, the alcohol burning through my system, making my vision swim a little. For a second, I stop and lean against the wall next to me, looking up at the city and drinking from the flask again, letting the vodka burn away the emotions clawing through my chest.
I know I should be furious with Val. Iam, for overstepping with the Dasha thing and blowing up something I’ve tried so hard to keep secret.
…Maybe even from myself.
Because now, when I stare at myself in the mirror and force myself to meet my own gaze, it’s like there’s a block there, stopping me from saying it, even though it’s right there on the tip of my tongue.
Gay.
Queer.
Questioning?
That one is the biggest, lately; but am I asking myself the right question?AmI gay? Do I find men attractive? Or is it just Val?Oris it just that that particular motherfucker has crawled so deep under my skin that even if Iwasattracted to men in general, I’d be blind to anyone but him?
I suppose that’s why I’m here tonight: because I miss him, and the needy, aching feeling I have for him when he’s around, touching me, or kissing me.
I’m here because I fucking want him, even if I’m furious at him. Because even if I think about going out into the wilds of New York to find some other man to act on these impulses with, all it does is make me recoil with disgust.
