Fractured (The Volkov Mafia Series Book 3) (4 page)

Malc

We are sat in the apartment block in Arbatskaya, it’s not that far from the hotel. I still can’t process the sheer size of Moscow, the buildings are majestic, the roads are busy and I live in London, this seems to dwarf it.

The small dining table has a collection of cookies, biscuits, candy and pies ready to serve with the tea. I learnt from my dad that it is rude not to serve food with your tea; that it is a social event to have one for tea. Irina brings the teapot through, the steam that comes from its spout tells me it is a fresh pot brewed just for us. She pours our tea and I notice straight away that this is not your usual teabag variety, it’s a loose tea blend. I can smell the wonderful aromas now permitting the air.

Irina sits down after the tea is poured and you can feel the tension in the air. Her son, Alekzander, is sat at the table; he is thirty-one years old, one year older than Damien. As the story goes Damien’s father had a fling with her just before he left for the UK, apparently he knew about Alek as he sent Irina regular money for him, paid for his education and everything he could need. She knew something was amiss when the payments stopped six years ago. That’s when she learnt of Damien and that he had taken over the family business, so she tried to manage on her own income but soon found herself struggling. You would think by the way he treats his mother that he was still a teenager. Irina reached out to Damien for help with Alek after he landed himself in prison. The look of arrogance that sits on his smug face is really starting to piss me off. Damien has said that because his last attempt to help him by sending money did not work he is going to bring him back to the UK to live and work with Damien.

“I told you, Mother, I am not leaving.” His Russian accent is very thick and he pronounces every English word that he is speaking to try to make it clearer for us to understand. I thought my dad’s accent was strong, but I see now that his has faded over the years.

“You are going with you brother, Alekzander, whether you like it or not. I cannot deal with any more, I am at the end of the line. Come home to me when you are a man and not before,” she says, the tone of her words leaves no room for him to argue and it is the first time I have seen that arrogance leave his face. He slumps down into the chair.

“Alek, I will look after you. I know we have not known about each other long but you will be welcome into my home. My wife, Faith, and our daughter, Anya, will treat you like family.” Damien’s words seem to shift something inside of Alek, he nods his head at his statement, and then he gets up and kisses his mother on the cheek and leaves the room.

Irina is now crying as she prepares to say goodbye to her son. The thought of not seeing him again is something that I can relate to, I have that feeling every single day, the only thing better for her is that she can phone and speak to her son, that is something I am not able to do. I look away from the sight in front of me and make my way to the hall outside her apartment. I can’t bear to watch another goodbye, it only brings up memories of my own goodbye with Charlie and Cami, the hurt that I felt watching her drive out of my life for good, but most of all of Andrew, I will never ever be rid of that feeling.

We sit in the car going back to the hotel. The silence is strained and I can understand why he looks lost; there is no going back now. He will be coming home with us on the flight that’s set to depart tomorrow morning. I know Damien is itching to get back to his family and I can’t say I blame him. The thought of having all that love and joy surrounding him gives him a softer edge than he had before he met Faith, she blew into his world and he has never looked back since. Is it so bad to crave the same things? I know I have them, they are just not with me. I can’t stand that I am going to miss Charlie’s first words, crawling and walking. This hell that she is putting us through is causing me to miss everything that is important in our son’s life and that brings me back to the call I had with Cami this morning. I can’t believe she called Damien and told him everything and then informed him that Charlie was ill. How dare she? I should have been the first person she called, no matter how she felt about us she has no right to keep important information about him from me.

Back in the hotel suite I storm into my bedroom and slump down on the bed. I can’t face my father or Damien; it will kill me with how I’m feeling at the moment. I want to fight; I want to beat the shit out of somebody, anybody, I don’t care who, as long as they make me bleed.

I don’t know how long I am sat there thinking about everything that has gone on over the past twelve months. My head is numb and my heart is broken. I hear the door open and close and when I look up I see my father stood watching me, waiting.

“Now is the time for words, Malcolm, I won’t wait anymore.” I know what he wants to know. I have noticed since he said it yesterday that all he has wanted to do was talk to me. The set of his shoulders and the hardness to his eyes showing me that his anger towards me has not dissipated.

“Please leave it, Dad. I can’t deal with this right now,” I say, begging him with my words not to bring it up. It will only show him how weak I actually am. I am not ashamed to say that if he asks I will tell him, and I would not be able to stop the tears from falling freely.

“Why were you at the graveyard, Malcolm?” And there we have it; the million dollar question. Well how do I bare my soul to my father? Here goes nothing, no time like the present.

“I was at my son’s grave,” I deadpan. The look of utter shock on my father’s face is one I will never forget. I suppose that’s not something he was expecting me to say.

“Your what? You never had a child, Malcolm...” I stop him before he can continue.

“I have a wife and another son, too.” Might as well get it out there while I am at it. I know I should probably have said it in a much better way but to be honest this is my pain not his, and I will tell him however I see fit.

“Who?” is all he says to me. The look of loss and disappointment is clear in his eyes; I hate that I have caused him more pain.

“Camilla,” I whisper, and I know that it’s all I need to say, as he knows exactly who it is now.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He roars at me and I must admit it has been a long time since I have seen him this angry at me, but I am not some six year old boy anymore, I am a twenty-nine year old fucking man for fuck’s sake. I stand to my full height, noticing now that my dad is just smaller than me, no less menacing but age is not being kind to him; some of the height and bulk is receding.

“How are you the one who is angry? I am the one that lost my fucking wife and child never to see them again. I have to hear it from Damien that she called him and not me. Do you know how much that fucking hurts?” I bellow at him and I watch him keep looking at me. I feel like there is steam coming out of my ears with how angry I am right now, at her, at my dad, hell, I am just angry full stop.

I feel my dad’s punch right across my jaw, and it stuns me for just a second but before I can retaliate his arms pull me into him and he holds me. Wrapped in his arms, I sob.

“That’s for not telling me that I have a daughter-in-law and grandchildren.” And somehow I feel a weight being lifted, not having to hide my pain anymore, but that does not solve the problem of not having them here with me.

“What happened son? What are the boys’ names?” How do I explain to him what happened without telling every heartbreaking detail of how I lost my family?

“Charlie and Andrew,” I whisper, the feeling of my throat drying and my eyes burning even more, knowing what I will say next. No matter how many times you tell the story it never gets any easier, the pain never goes away. “Andrew died in my arms not long after he was born, and Camilla and Charlie left me three days later. I wasn’t enough for her to stay, Dad.” My thoughts are spiraling. I’m going down into the broken place in my mind and now I have no option but to sit in this room and deal with it. I can’t just go to a bar and pick a fight, and I can’t even go to sit with Andrew and talk to him because I am stuck in Russia until at least tomorrow.

“Do you have a picture? I know this is hard for you, Son, but if you do I would really like to see them.” I just nod at his question, unable to form the words to speak now; I have a copy on my phone of the picture Camilla gave me before she left. I pull I away from my dad and reach down to the bed to retrieve my phone. Unlocking the screen, I scroll through the pictures to get the one that is most precious to me. I turn to my dad and pass him the phone and he takes the phone from me and looks down to the screen. Every trace of anger is gone from his face and a look of pure love replaces it. “They look like your mum, Son, it’s the blue eyes, they look beautiful. I’m so proud of you.” His words are like another, wound to my heart. I never knew my mum and to be told that my boys look like her is eating me up just that little bit more.

“I am sorry I kept it from you, Dad, but it was not just my decision not to tell anyone; I had to protect Camilla as well. After everything she went through, Dad, I had to do everything I could and even though it was wrong, it was the only way I could show her that I love her.” I pour everything into the words, laying my heart wide open.

“I am not saying I agree, but I do understand what you went through and what she is dealing with.”

I ask my dad to give me some time alone with my thoughts, not that I really want to but I have to process what he has said to me and what my next move will be. I drift off into a fitful sleep wondering when my life will improve, but then the dreams come, all the sins that I have committed come back to haunt me and I know that I don’t deserve my happily ever after. I’m not meant to have what other people have and that’s why it was taken away from me. The happiness I wanted so bad was destroyed to the point I don’t think I can get it back, but I know I have to at least try.

Showered and changed ready to get back home as quick as I can, I will talk to Damien on the plane about letting me go get my family. When I got up this morning I knew what I had to do, I had to fight for my wife and bring home my child – he needs the love and support only his family can give him and I’m determined not to miss another damn day of his life. I have missed so much already, and as far as Camilla goes she needs me whether she likes it or not.

The plane is mid-flight when I approach Damien. “You got a minute boss? Need to run something by you,” I ask him and wait for him to reply. I know these last four months I have really been a dick and he has shown as much patience as he can with my moods and anger.

“What do you want, Malc?” he says to me. I know he is ok as he called me Malc so the friend is pushing through to the surface more than the boss is.

“I need a few days off?” I ask him not sure how much I need to tell him in front of everyone on the plane.

“Will this fix my friend or will it break him more?” And just like that I know he knows what I want to do.

“To be honest, Damien, I don’t know but I have to try.” I try to be honest as I know bullshit won’t fly with Damien, it never has.

“Then go, my friend.” And that’s all he says. I wander back to my seat knowing that I have permission to go and get what I want, but now the butterflies have taken up home in my stomach and I can’t seem to shift them.

Landing back in London is bittersweet, I am glad to be home, but I am dreading what comes next. I don’t even get in the car to go back to the house and grab any clothes; I go to the hire car place at the airport. I rent myself an SUV and set off on the long drive to get my family. The drive is long, the miles pass, the scenery all looks the same the further up the country I go. I hit the A9 and I know I am not that long from arriving, only a couple more hours and I will see my boy. But most of all I am going to take her into my arms and kiss her, oh to have the taste of her lips on me again.

I don’t really look around much when I am driving; it all looks the same anyway, green everywhere, not much concrete around. My eyes feel heavy and I need to stop and grab a coffee, anything to keep me awake that little longer, the last thing I need right now is to get myself wrapped around one of those lush green trees.

I pull into the next local services that I pass. I park the car and head inside and grab a coffee and a burger; I need something to eat. It’s just then that I realise in my dash to get to Camilla I have not eaten since last night, and even now with everything that is going I really don’t feel hungry, but the last thing she needs is me turning up at her door and passing out.

After half an hour and two coffees later I feel awake enough to get back on the road. The miles fly by and I soon see the sign for Duffus and turn the car down the road that is going to lead me to my everything, to my love.