White Hot: Iron Tornadoes MC Romance, #6

1

Prince

It's almost midnight when I arrive. In the booth, the security guard is watching a tiny television. That makes him look like a perfect target. But he's not.

The glass is bulletproof.

Really.

Some drunken husband tested it for us. Just that incident made the investment worthwhile.

The problem is not the light, per se; it's that he's not paying attention to his surroundings when that's what we pay him for.

The way he jumps when I knock on his window confirms it.

It's a new guy. I'll need to talk to the security firm tomorrow.

He examines my driver's license through the glass panel and looks for my name on the list of authorized visitors.

Satisfied with the result of his search, he buzzes me in. My Harley purrs on the long drive that leads to the main house.

All windows are dark, save for a large one on the ground floor. A green-glass Tiffany lamp casts a hazy light in the living room. My mother is sitting in her favorite armchair by the window, reading a book. At this time, she's probably alone, but just in case she isn't, I kill the engine and silently push my bike into the garage. She's left it unlocked for me.

My leather jacket and helmet go on their designated hooks. Anything that resembles a biker's uniform is strictly prohibited in this house. I make sure the lock is safely fastened and enter using the door that connects the garage to the kitchen.

Vlad is crouched behind the door ready to attack.

As soon as he recognizes, me the bloodthirsty monster turns into a playful puppy. The Caucasian shepherd does pounce on me, but in an attempt to slobber me to death.

Down, boy, I say as I pet him. I'm happy to see you, too. It's been way too long.

A treat from the top cabinet rewards him for being such a good watchdog. Anyone else but me passing through that door would now be dead meat.

His brother, Jo, is probably on the upper floor with the boarders.

Dmitry, my mother calls out from the living room. Vladimir Ilyich already had his dinner. Please don't give him anything.

I chuckle and put a finger to my lips. I won't tell her if you don't, buddy, I playfully whisper to the beast. Come on, let's go say hello to Mama.

Vlad pushes the swinging kitchen door and turns around, inviting me to follow him. As soon as I do, he starts to run back and forth in the living room between my mother and me. The boys must be in dire need of exercise. This probably means there are not many kids in the shelter right now. Or at least none who have been here long enough to get familiar with my monsters.

I will need to play with them tomorrow.

Vladimir Ilyich, sit.

The order is immediately obeyed. My mother smiles at him. Unlike me, he does follow her directions. All the time invested in his education was not in vain.

Putting her book and reading glasses on the little table by her armchair, she looks up to me and tilts her head to present her cheek.

My cue to give her a kiss.

Displays of affection are not her thing. I give her the required peck on the cheek and sit on the ottoman where her legs usually rest.

You're looking good, Mother.

And she does.

She's never been a beautiful woman, but there's a regal air about her that commands attention. I understand it's always been there. She uses it well, and despite the fact that the pretty one was her younger sister, Mama was always the center of attention.

I am doing as well as could be expected for a woman of my age, she answers testily. She acts as if she were an old woman. In her mind, she is. Her soul aged a lot faster than her body. She's acts like she's a hundred.

How is Natasha? I ask.

My mother frowns and shakes her head. Not well. For a bit, the drugs were no longer working.

She massages the bridge of her nose as if trying to erase the trace left by the glasses.

What did the doctors say?

They are trying something new, but they are not very optimistic. They think I should send her away. She sighs.

My aunt Natasha has always been unwell.

My mother's refusal to send her away--the euphemism for lock her up and throw away the key--is the reason she created this shelter. She couldn't entertain the idea of entrusting her to somebody else's care. Chances are, she still can't even conceive that anyone would take better care of her sister than her. She's right.

What happened?

My mother closes her eyes and rubs her temples. She takes a deep breath and when she looks at me again, her expression reveals all the sadness of the world.

She tried to hang herself, she whispers. If not for a nosy teenager who had decided to explore all the rooms in the house, I'm not sure we would've been able to save her.

I nod in understanding. Would my mother have survived had she not saved her younger sibling? I doubt it. The guilt would have eaten her alive.

What are you going to do?

As far as she is concerned, the doctors can't recommend a more suitable place than here. I'm sure there are institutions which would keep her under constant surveillance, but I agree with her. We don't want that.

Years ago, she tried one of the best, just for a short spin, so my mother and I could take a trip together. I was only a child then, but I still remember it vividly.

The sounds, the smells ...

If that was the nicest one, I wonder what the others are like.

Pray for a vengeful angel, she snaps back. I know you think I am crazy, but I am certain that it is the only way.

I take my mother's hands in mine and solemnly assure her I will avenge Natasha. Yes, just a few more weeks now and the man who tortured my aunt will understand what true anguish is.

The main difference between my mother and me is that I do not believe this revenge will improve my aunt's condition.

I have accepted that Natasha cannot be saved.

Even dancing on that man's grave will not bring back her sanity.

Nor will knowing that he's enduring as much agony as he has inflicted upon her. When she's in crisis, the word pain is the only one in her vocabulary. Crises are rare nowadays, but still, her lucid intervals are too few and far between.

Torturing him will not bring her back, but it will allow my mother and me to sleep better at night knowing justice has been done.

It's only a matter of weeks now, I repeat. My plan is in motion and I promise you, it cannot fail.

Then there is nothing to worry about, she says. I can keep her safe for a while longer. Her lips curve into a beautiful smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

For an instant, something in the way she looks at me makes me question her sanity. It reminds me of those illuminated preachers who claim to have a direct connection to God.

I squint and it's gone.

Shaking my head, I scold myself for questioning her mental health. If anyone's abilities are in question, it's probably mine. I've been on edge for days. I'm overtired and my doubts are nothing more that the product of an overactive imagination.

Nothing that a good night of sleep won't fix.

That and then a wrestling match and jog in the park with my best friends, Vladimir Ilyich and Iossif Vissarionovich. Yes, those boys will help me think more clearly tomorrow.

Or so I hope.

2

Juliya

One more look around my room and I'm done.

I should be.

Why can't I shake this feeling I am forgetting something? I check the closet, the shelves, my desk, and under the bed ... the room is so small that if I had left something behind, I would see it.

My roommate is amused. Maybe a bit exasperated as well. Maria stands by the door and observes me as if I were from a different species.

We sort of are.

She's as calm as I can be neurotic.

I promise that if I find anything that belongs to you, I will save it and call to let you know.

Oh, I'm sure it won't be lost, I explain. It's just this feeling I have...

That you're leaving something behind, she says. Well, you are.

What? I scan our dorm room another time yet but in vain.

When my eyes land on her again, she laughs.

"Me, of course!"

I take a step forward and hug her.

I will miss you, I confess. Without you, I wouldn't have survived this ... I punctuate my comment with a large hand gesture meant to encompass the entire campus and the past three years.

Yeah, you say that, but you rushed through this past term to graduate early and now you're dumping me quicker than you dropped Statistics 201 your second year!

I tense and she hugs me tighter.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel guilty. I know, you're going home to be with your dad.

She lets me go and I give her a shy smile.

Yeah, I want to be with him when ... you know ... I can't finish my sentence. I always fear that saying it out loud will make it more real.

Maria nods.

She actually knows.

She lost her mother to cancer when she was in high school. Maybe that's why she was so supportive during this last term. She understood what I was doing. She got that I went crazy because I wanted to graduate early to be there for him when the end comes.

Since he wouldn't let me take a gap year, I had no choice but to cram as many classes as I could to do so. I undoubtedly sabotaged my chances of getting into a postgraduate program with my eclectic choice of classes, but I didn't want to anyway.

No regrets for me. The MC has enough businesses that I should be able to get a decent job.

With him and with your Prince. She winks and I blush.

Yeah, there's that, too, I admit. My mind doesn't want to go there, but the second she mentions his name, he's all I can think about.

Good. Better to have this ache in my chest than to turn into a blubbering mess thinking about my father.

We walk silently together along the long hallway, down the steps, and across the street to the place where I was lucky enough to find a parking spot.

I open the car door and Maria gives me a final hug. While we hold onto each other, I glance around just to be sure.

I was sort of hoping Prince would magically pop up and ride with me for a bit of the trip. It's silly. I didn't tell him I was leaving today. How could he have known?

Anyway, I sort of look forward to doing all this road alone.

On the way in, Everest had taken the ride with me. For sure, one of my brothers would have come to get me if I had asked. I didn't. The only one who knows I'm done is Maria. Everyone else thinks I'm not graduating before the end of the spring term.

I'll be waiting for your call tonight, she