27 | Scare Tactics

Alexei | Grace

IT TOOK AN AGE UNTIL I heard Grace's breathing deepen. She wasn't fooling anyone with her half closed eyes and occasional sighing, I knew her pretending to be asleep was a show of childishness meant to punish me.

Sometimes it felt as though I knew Grace better than I knew anyone else.

After a long hour of waiting, she finally caved into sleep and I crept off the bed quietly to scoop her up in my arms. She must have been a heavy sleeper because she hardly stirred when I lifted her onto the bed. She should have known I'd never let her sleep on the floor, but we were both stubborn in equal measure, I supposed.

"What am I going to do with you?" I mumbled into her hair as I cradled her head down onto the pillow. The smell of her coconut shampoo filled my nostrils and I breathed deeply. It was a scent I should never have let myself get close enough to know—not only know, but like.

In her sleep Grace's brows pulled down into a crease. Her arms wrapped around mine tighter. "Legko, tigrenok," I soothed, smoothing our the line on her forehead. "I'm here."

(Easy, little tiger)

I wanted to be a big enough man to sleep on the floor. I knew it was what I should do, but with her small hands gripping my shirtsleeves I couldn't summon the will to leave Grace. Instead I carefully manoeuvred myself so that I was laying beside her, resting on my elbow so I could watch her sleep. There was no way I'd have that same luxury tonight. Insomnia had plagued me since I was a boy; not all vices leave us when we grow up.

It was a good five hours before Grace stirred again. She let out a little mewl like she was some lost animal, then her breathing picked up. I could tell from the way her eyelids fluttered she was having a bad dream.

"Grace," I whispered, stroking her cheek with my thumb. Another whimper parted her lips and I rolled my eyes at how innocent she managed to sound while having a nightmare. "Grace," I repeated, louder this time, until her eyes snapped open with a start.

"Alex," she gasped, staring back at me wide eyed and panting. She looked both relieved and sceptical as she sat up and pushed the damp hair off her forehead.

"You were having a bad dream."

"You..." she cleared her throat then seemed to think better of whatever she was going to say. "I know. Sorry."

"What are you apologising for?"

Grace ignored my question and continued staring at me. I wondered what her dream had been about, to make her look at me like that. Like she was relieved. Almost like she was glad to see me. She should be looking terrified. Yet a small, quiet part of myself was glad that she didn't look at all scared.

"I haven't had a nightmare since I was a kid," Grace said, leaning back against the headboard and drawing her knees up to her chest. "Not since I was nine or ten years old."

This surprised me. Although she hadn't opened up too much about her parents' car accident, I knew it happened when Grace was around sixteen. Events like that usually caused some form of trauma in dreams.

"You look confused," Grace observed.

"Sorry." It was usually my reflex habit to keep emotions hidden.

"I can guess why."

Our eyes locked. "You don't have to talk about it."

"I know." Grace's eyes dropped down to the Rolex I wore on my left arm. She carefully grabbed my wrist and ran her index over the face of the watch. "I was there, you know," she said quietly, "when it happened. The crash." We both winced when she said the word. Crash. It almost seemed like a joke, some sort of sick parody. Not long after I met Grace I looked into her history, the standard sort of checks I do on employees. Crash was a word far too light for what happened to her parents. Their car wasn't just smashed up. It was totally obliterated by a tanker carrying explosive gas.

"You were there?" I repeated, at a loss for how else to phrase the fact that Grace simply couldn't have been there. Or she wouldn't have been here.

"I wasn't in the car. I was on the pavement, outside my school. I was waiting for them. I saw it happen." All the while her finger kept circling the face on my watch.

"Jesus."

"It was the worst day of my life." Her nail clicked against the third roman numeral. "It happened so fast, but it felt so slow. And I was just stood there watching, there was nothing I could do or say. Three o'clock on the dot and she was gone. All that survived of my mum was her watch." Grace took a long, deep breath. Her hand finally stopped moving and I took it in my own, laced our fingers. "When they gave it to me, after, it was still ticking. Time was still moving on. It felt cruel, somehow. That after she was gone the world kept spinning, even her own watch."

"You still have it?"

"Somewhere. I buried it in a drawer of clothes, piled them up and up on top of it. The sound of the ticking..."

"I can imagine."

"That was the thing, you see. My dreams were never bad. I was stood there, watching, always in the same place, but the dreams didn't start from the beginning. They started with the explosion, blindingly bright and golden. Then everything would go backwards. The car would drive away. Back down the street, just before the corner, it would stop. My parents would get out, and they'd run to me. But just before they reached me...every time they were within reach I'd wake up to the sound of that ticking."

I shifted so I could see Grace's expression more clearly in the lamp light. A flux of emotions seemed to be dancing across her face; she'd always been so easy to read. "Is that what you dreamt tonight?"

She shook her head. "Something else."

"Tell me."

"I don't know if I should," she hesitated.

I could put two and two together well enough to work out that the dream involved me. Whatever happened in it had caused Grace to stare at me with a mix of relief and fear. "Tell me," I repeated.

"It was about the bartender, the one from Rush."

"The rat," I filled in flatly.

"He doesn't deserve to die!" Grace's voice was laced with anger.

"He knew what the price was should he be caught. He knew what he was risking."

"His life?!" She pulled her hand sharply away from mine. "You think it's okay to kill him just for being a rat?"

I sighed. "Grace, each of my employees receives a very healthy salary. You know this. Part of that excessive sum covers the cost of keeping quiet."

"So you could just fine him. Or fire him! Anything at all other than bloody killing him!"

Trust Grace to come up with a completely irrational response. She was far too compassionate for her own good. It struck me suddenly that Grace didn't even know why we needed people to keep quiet. She had no idea what went on behind the scenes of our business—no idea what was at stake. One day soon, through choice or necessity, that was going to change.

"If we let one man off the hook, we'd start a chain of events," I explained evenly. "The next rat would question why they shouldn't be let off, too, and then another loyal man would wonder if it might just be worth his while selling information. You see how we would soon have a problem."

Rather than disappearing, the crease between Grace's brows only deepened. Her lips pouted slightly, subconsciously, making her look almost like a child. If she hadn't been so frustrating and stubborn it might have been endearing.

"You could have them sign a legal contract, then if they broke it they'd go to prison."

"Any involvement with the law would end badly for both parties, I can assure you," I laughed humourlessly. The thought was ludicrous.

"But why?"

"Because of what we do."

"I still don't know what you do!" Grace folded her arms. "I don't know anything about your business and I'm just expected to sit here and accept you letting someone be murdered?!"

I took her face between my hands then, gently, forcing her to look me in the eye and willing her panic to subside. "I am trying to keep you safe," I told her fiercely. "I am trying."

Grace started back at me breathless, messy strands of hair covering her eyes and cheeks. "I know," she mumbled quietly.

"This whole story Viktor has spun you, do you know what it is?" She shook her head. "It's bait, Grace. He's testing you. He wants you to run off to the police, he wants you to defy him."

"And if I do?"

"You know the answer to that."

"There has to be something I can do!" Grace pulled away from me then and ran a frustrated hand through her hair.

I could sympathise that this was unusual for her; she usually spent her time trying to save lives, and now she felt helpless. But I also knew she'd have to get used to it if this—whatever this was—was going to work.

"Nothing can be done," I told her simply.

"I can't just sit here and let him die!" This time something entirely unexpected happened when Grace spoke. Her voice broke, and her face screwed up, and all of a sudden she was crying.

I was out of my depth. "Grace—"

"No," she spat, pushing me away as I tried to calm her down. Tears were flowing down her cheeks, sticking strands of hair to her face. "I took the job because I wanted to help people, I never fucking agreed to sit around and watch people die needlessly!"

"I know you didn't—"

Grace barely let me get a word in edgeways. "And you..." she jabbed a finger into my chest like she had a habit of doing, "...I never expected you to be so okay with something like this. Do you honestly think that man down there, that bartender, is evil?"

"No."

"So do something about it." She wiped furiously at her red eyes, doing her best to glare at me. "Or you're just as bad as him."

"I can't."

"What the hell do you mean you can't?!"

"Look, Grace—" I reached for her hands but she pulled them away so instead I cradled her head, "—look at me." Her eyes slowly met mine. "One day soon my father will be gone and I will take over from him. When that day comes, I swear to you, all of the shady business, all of the unnecessary killing, I'll put an end to it. But right now I can't. Do you understand? I need him to trust me."

I could see Grace's mind working overtime, figuring out if what I'd proposed was acceptable. The down turn of her lips didn't vanish. "All of the unnecessary killing?"

Of fucking course she'd pick apart my words. "Yes," I agreed flatly.

"But not all of the killing?"

"No."

She sat back for a minute and seemed to contemplate this. "Fine," she said eventually. "Then I want to know what it is that you do. Whatever your business is, whatever you've been keeping from me, I want you to explain every single detail."

"No." My answer was both instant and final.

Grace folded her arms. "Bethany knows."

"That's different, Leonid isn't as involved in the family business, none of this affects either of them directly."

"But she knows. You trust her."

"She's engaged to my brother, Grace. What choice do I have?"

Grace shot up off the bed instantly and smiled at me like a proud child who'd just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Here we go...

"Fine," she snapped. "If you won't tell me, Bethany will."

"It's seven in the morning."

"So?"

Grace was already half way out of the bedroom door by the time I replied, "there's no way in hell Bethany will be up."

She paid me no heed and continued walking down the hallway barefoot and clad only in her dress from the previous evening. I spent a moment admiring her ass in the dress before deciding that it would be best to let Grace realise the pointlessness of her venture on her own. She'd come back once she realised most of the doors were locked and Bethany was asleep.

I had something else I wanted to do. Walking silently through the dark house, I found my way to Viktor's office. I let myself in, the click of the lock resonating down the hall. Inside, all was dark except for the computer monitors that cast an eerie shade of green over the room.

I scanned them and found what I was looking for in a second: the bartender. Just as I'd suspected he was still alive. He'd been used as nothing more than a scare tactic, he wasn't a rat, he hadn't betrayed us. He was nothing more than a small part of the illusion my father liked to conjure. He'd been shaken up, sure, and was probably scared as hell, but he'd go back to the same life he had before.

Pulling out my phone, I took a quick photo of the monitor to show Grace at a later date. At least then she'd feel a little more settled. There was little I could do to reassure her about the dangers and illegalities of my life but at least in this one case I could show her a positive outcome.

Rather than spend hours trawling the house for Grace I decided to use my father's camera system for something finally less sinister than it would usually be used for. I scanned each monitor then flicked them onto the next set of rooms, and again, until finally Grace came into view. She was stood in the kitchen around the island, but she wasn't alone.

Somehow she'd managed to find Bethany.

"B'lyad'!" I cursed, immediately slamming the door shut behind me. I had to get to the kitchen before Bethany could open her mouth too wide around Grace. The chances of her divulging everything were fairly low but given even a small hint Grace could be like a dog with a bone.

(Fuck!)

When I reached the kitchen Grace and Bethany were both eating breakfast, shoulders leaned together as they laughed at something.

I cleared my throat and they both turned around. "Grace," I said a little more firmly than I meant to.

Her faux-innocent smile widened. "Yes, Alexei?"

"I was just discussing the ins and outs of our family with Grace," Bethany said brightly, putting a croissant on a small plate and holding it out to me.

I glared at the croissant. "You're not married to Leo yet, Bethany." My voice carried a distinct warning.

Grace took the croissant from Bethany and rolled her eyes at me. "I just feel like I know your family so much better now."

She was playing with me. Part of me knew Bethany wouldn't have said anything...but the other part couldn't help wondering if she had.

"Grace, Bethany and I need to speak privately."

"I'm eating breakfast."

"Out."

With another roll of her eyes Grace pushed back her chair and stormed out of the room. Sometimes she was so childlike it was hard to remember her real age. Other times she seemed like she knew infinitely more than I did. Pretty much all of the time she managed to wind me up, and for some ridiculous reason I couldn't get enough.

With Grace gone Bethany dropped her bravado instantly.

"Tell me you didn't say a word," I demanded, striding over to her. "Tell me you said nothing."

"I didn't." She held her hands up submissively. "Alex, you know I wouldn't."

"Then why did she look so smug?"

"Can't you tell?"

"Yes, did I forget to tell you I'm a mind reader?"

Bethany ignored my quip. "She's trying to push your buttons."

"To piss me off?" Damnit she was doing a good job.

"No, pushing your buttons is a different thing."

"How?"

"She likes you, obviously," Bethany shrugged. "God knows why."

"Makes total fucking sense," I grumbled, collapsing into the chair Grace had left out and massaging my forehead. Grace liking me had huge implications for her safety and my business. The sort of implications that gave me a headache. "This isn't good."

"That she likes you?"

"Exactly."

"So you give her a job, give her special treatment, sleep with her...?" Bethany trailed off, raising an eyebrow in question.

"We shared a bed out of necessity. I don't fuck my staff."

"Right, well, you share a bed with her after she's met your whole family, and then you expect to maintain a professional relationship? Alexei, you're deluded."

I didn't like how direct Bethany always was with me. She never watched her tone or hid her thoughts like most other people, but in a way I almost liked her for it. Almost.

I picked up Grace's half drunk coffee off the island and finished it in one mouthful, regretting it instantly when I remembered she drinks it black with no sugar. Yet another thing I didn't expect from her.

"Would it really be that bad to let Grace in, Alex?" Bethany asked after I let the silence drag on. "How long has it been...?"

"Not long enough."

Some things were best left in the past.

"Well, I think you like her."

"You're wrong," I responded instantly.

"In fact I think you might even love her. And if you do, you're going to have to tell her, you know. You're going to have to tell her everything."

A beat of silence passed.

"I know."

A/N an extra long update to apologise again for the long wait!! Uni is pretty full on at the moment (six essays due by the end of November) but I'm trying to keep the story ticking over. Also, I really loved this chapter and it's the first time I've updated and been really proud in a while.

Also, I'm aware the last few chapters have been very dialogue heavy, but I swear the next one will be more action based!

Let me know your thoughts!

-e