“Water chestnuts,” Kurt chimed in.

  “Yeah, what you said, and cranberry. I dunno, it’s like”—he looked at his brother for help—“what even is that?”

  “Everyone calls it salad,” Toby answered his brother, “but there’s no lettuce in it or tomatoes, so I don’t get it.”

  “Whatever it is, it’s not the good kind in the can like at Gran’s house,” Dennis explained to me. “This is gloppy and looks like what they use for somebody getting shot in the movies.”

  “You know,” Brad began gently, “your mother puts a lot of thought and time into preparing meals for you both, and even if you don’t love them, you need to be respectful of the effort she put in.”

  They were quiet a moment.

  “Yeah, okay,” Dennis agreed, glancing at his mother. “Thanks for thinking of us, Mom, and I love you and all, but could you put your effort into making stuffing without any nuts in it?”

  She pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t smile.

  “I love you too, Mom,” Toby chimed in, “but you could make less stuff, and maybe we could just have fried chicken again—you can ask George how to make it—and Tater Tots or hot dogs. That’d be good too.”

  “These are excellent, helpful suggestions,” she concluded. “I will keep them in mind.”

  “In the movies?” Kurt asked, hung up on that from the comment about cranberry salad.

  “What?” Dennis was confused, and I would have been too, but I could follow a conversation better than a nine-year-old.

  “You said the cranberry salad—that’s what it’s called—looks like what they use for somebody getting shot in the movies.”

  “Well, yeah, ’cause after yesterday, I know that’s not real.”

  Which brought the conversation to a screeching halt.

  “Maybe we should talk about all that,” Kurt said gently, sitting down on the couch, close to where the boys were seated on the floor beside the coffee table with their plates. We were watching movies, currently on Home Alone, which was paused at the moment.

  “Do we hafta talk about it?” Dennis asked him, then gestured at me. “George didn’t let anything bad happen to us, and I was only scared that the guy was gonna shoot Toby or the dogs. I was super worried about the dogs.”

  Toby nodded. “Me too.”

  Kurt glanced at his sister, then back at the boys. “You weren’t worried about your mother or your father or me?”

  Dennis shook his head. “Once you guys were there, I wasn’t scared anymore. Dad wouldn’t let anything happen to us.”

  Which was the end of poor Brad. He rushed over to his son, picked him up and wrapped him in his arms, crying as he hugged him.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” he soothed his father, his arms around his neck. “We’re all fine now.”

  Toby looked at Kurt. “I was afraid those guys were gonna kill the dogs, but then George came and everything was fine.”

  “And you’re not worried it could happen again?”

  He shook his head. “Not anymore. George said in the car on our way here that his friend would take care of any more bad guys, and you and Mom said that maybe we would have a bodyguard, but if George’s friend is going to take care of the bad guys, do we need more strangers in our house?”

  A valid question.

  Thomasin glanced at me. “I don’t know. Do we? I mean, we talked about having help before we stopped to see your friends at the airport.”

  True. “You know, I don’t know the answer to that yet. We’ll have to see who’s left over once Isaak is done.”

  “Isaak is a cool name,” Toby imparted. “But it doesn’t sound scary.”

  I nodded.

  “George, have you killed a lot of people?” Dennis wanted to know.

  “I have. In combat. Not like I did yesterday.”

  “Is it different when you’re being a soldier?”

  “It is,” I told him solemnly. “I do what I do to defend my country and people who can’t defend themselves.”

  “Do you only save Americans?” Toby asked me.

  “No. My team and I just recently saved a Polish reporter.”

  “Oh, I know where Poland is.”

  “Oh yeah? That’s good. How about China?”

  He nodded.

  “What about Belarus?”

  His brows furrowed. “No. Can you show me on a map?”

  “I can. Go check the bookshelves under the stairs,” I directed him. “I think there might be an atlas over there.”

  “An atlas is a book of maps, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  Toby left to find the atlas, and Dennis walked over and took a seat next to me, leaning on my bicep, which was starting to turn into a habit with him.

  “I hope your friend takes care of the bad people so we don’t have to have a bodyguard. I wouldn’t want someone to get hurt because of me.”

  “I feel the same way, buddy.”

  “I don’t want you and Uncle Kurt to go home.”

  “How come?”

  “Because you take care of all of us, and Uncle Kurt brings his dogs and your cat and makes me midnight snacks we don’t tell Mom about.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Thomasin asked her son.

  “Midnight snacks are the best, Mom, and Uncle Kurt makes great s’mores.”

  “S’mores,” she said, glaring at Kurt.

  “Oh, come on, like you don’t like a midnight treat every now and then.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, sounding guilty as hell.

  I was starting to enjoy being around family. “I can’t wait to meet your mother next time I come,” I told Brad.

  If looks could kill, I’d be a very dead man.

  Everyone had gone up at midnight but me. I took that time to call Chris on the satellite phone.

  “I know it’s nine in the morning here,” Chris groused, “but I’m on my way to mass, you heathen.”

  “How can you go to church?”

  “For absolution,” he explained.

  “I think that’s a bit hypocritical.”

  “When you’re my age, kid, we’ll talk about it.”

  I had no idea what that meant.

  “Why are we talking, Hunt?”

  “I haven’t heard anything.”

  “That’s because things got slightly complicated.”

  “As in…?”

  “Turns out, Vladek is related to Isaak.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “I know, right? Crazy.”

  “So what does that mean?”

  “It means Isaak had to get permission from one of his uncles or something—I wasn’t really listening—before he could put a bullet in the guy.”

  “Did you ever think that maybe he doesn’t want to kill one of his cousins or whatever to help me and my family?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Did it occur to you that maybe he doesn’t want to kill someone in his family just to protect mine?”

  “I don’t think I heard you.”

  “Are you going deaf, old man? I said that my family might not be as—oh shit,” I groaned, realizing suddenly what he was doing.

  “Your family? Is that what you said?”

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Because, Hunt, you actually used the word. I thought I was gonna pass out.”

  “Could you not be you for just a second?”

  He chuckled. “Listen, Isaak couldn’t give a shit about who’s sharing his DNA—it doesn’t matter to him. Those bridges went down in a fire years ago. He has a set number of people he cares about, which includes me, Jared and Jing, Darius, and Rahm Doud, of all people.”

  I’d read Rahm Doud’s dossier years ago. He too was a scary man.

  “I fuckin’ hate Doud,” Chris muttered.

  This was news.

  “But see, Isaak likes him, which is why I can’t put a bullet in that fucker.”

  I chuckled. “Aren’t you walking into church?”

  “Don’t concern yourself with what I’m doing. I’m just telling you why all this took a minute longer than it should’ve.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Isaak took out four shooters—one from Colombia, two from Cancun, and one from Sacramento, I think. I wasn’t really listening. What I do know is that it was quick, they’re gone, giving back to the earth as we speak, and then, because Issak is a completist, he got permission from whatever oligarch over there to end Vladek.”

  “He did all that for us?”

  “Well, no. I’m sure Isaak told you. He did that for Darius, who did that for me.”

  “God. I owe––”

  “Please don’t start with that shit. You’ll make me all queasy before church.”

  He was right. I knew better. Chris did not enjoy sentiment from anyone but his family.

  “This is where it gets funny,” Chris continued with a snicker. “Apparently, as soon as Vladek heard that Isaak Skriabin was after him, that fucker got on the first plane back to Moscow. The word is that Isaak’s deciding if it matters to him enough to take a plane all the way over there. Either way, your family is safe, and you can all go home before the New Year.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Am I sure that Vladek is hiding out at his father’s fortress near the Rublyovka Highway? Yeah, I’m fuckin’ sure. He ain’t coming back. If he leaves Russia, ever, he’s basically goading Isaak and saying to him that he’s not scared of him anymore. I can promise you that even if Isaak dies, he’ll leave an open contract with Rahm or me or whoever to waste Vladek if he sets a foot out of that country.”

  “That’s kind of vengeful.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s Isaak in a nutshell. Kinda vengeful.”

  “Jing seemed to like him.”

  “Sure. But don’t we all have weird friends?”

  There was nothing to say to that because yes, without question, we did. Mine were an eclectic group to say the least.

  “And when were you gonna call me? When was anyone gonna call me?”

  “Christmas is a holiday, asshole. None of us work on holidays. I would’ve called you on Tuesday, no worries.”

  I sighed heavily.

  “Listen, Vladek did make a big mess, though. Whatever his business was, I mean, he was a pig. It was all prostitution and drugs and guns. The Feds or the police in Portland could have made a case, but Isaak doesn’t leave traces. Everyone who had anything to do with the business is dead, and it’s all literally burned to the ground.”

  “That was fast.”

  “Two days is fast?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I guess Jing was there with him, making sure he stayed on schedule.”

  “I don’t get them,” I told Chris.

  “I think the takeaway should be: don’t piss off Jing.”

  I would remember not to do that.

  “What about the money Brad owes Vladek?”

  “It’s, like, a hundred grand or some shit. I donate more than that a year to the dog shelters here in Barcelona.”

  “A hundred grand?”

  “Yeah. I know. The fuck was Vladek sweating him for that small-ass amount?”

  “You know, to a lot of people, like me for instance, that’s a lot of money.”

  He grunted like whatever I thought was meaningless.

  “Do you think there was something else Vladek wanted?”

  “Oh, I know it. According to Jared, from the records Jing saw, Vladek needed your brother-in-law to help him launder money. He could have appeared to go legitimate through Brad’s businesses.”

  “Then I don’t get sweating the money or putting a contract on his family or any of this. What was the point if he needed Brad all along?”

  “It happens. I’ve seen it a million times. Guys get worked up about some insignificant amount of whatever it is—a shipment of guns, a delivery of drugs, or like this, money. If they don’t get paid when they’re supposed to, precisely on time, they lose their fuckin’ minds instead of being smart about it. When Brad didn’t have the money, Vladek should have told him that now the two of them were in business. He could have blackmailed Brad with the loan. But no, he loses his shit because he didn’t get it back. And maybe he had the money earmarked for something else and needed it, but still. Vladek was really fuckin’ stupid.”

  “That was a bad business decision.”

  “Yeah, it was,” Chris agreed. “You can’t ever make things personal. You have to keep your eye on the prize.”

  I was quiet for a moment.

  “What?”

  “It’s Christmas, and we’re talking about killing people.”

  He sighed deeply. “Listen, Christmas is about family, kid. However you choose to take care of the people you love is a personal decision. I made my bed years ago, and I have zero regrets. My hope for you is that you will feel the same someday.”

  I was suddenly choked up, sharing this moment with my friend.

  “You there?”

  “Yeah. I’m here.”

  “Okay.” His voice was husky and a bit gravelly. “Listen, they’re safe. You can all go home tomorrow, all right?”

  “Thank you. And thank Isaak and Jing for me, will you?”

  “I’ll tell Jared to thank Jing, but let’s not involve ourselves any further with Isaak, yeah? I’d hate to be killed because we annoyed him.”

  “Sure, Chris.” Best to let it go.

  “I’ll talk to ya. Feliz Navidad, kid,” he said and hung up.

  Letting my head fall back on the couch, I was surprised when there were fingers raking through my hair.

  “Are you coming up to bed?” Kurt asked, then came around the couch and sat down beside me.

  “Yeah. I was just checking with Chris, and he says we’re good. We can go back to the house. It’s all over.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere in the morning. We’ll see how everyone else feels.”

  We would do that as soon as we woke up.

  NINE

  Having never been around kids on a holiday, I had no idea that they woke up, and woke everyone else up, so early on Christmas morning. In foster care, there were never any gifts, so Christmas wasn’t special. For me, like for the other kids in the system, it had been a day to sleep in and when the food was better than usual. There had been no reason to be excited or joyful. But I understood that for Toby and Dennis, it was a big deal, and I enjoyed getting up and having coffee and watching the boys tear into their gifts.

  Dennis got Switch games and a Hoverboard, and Toby got a laptop and games. Kurt did well for them with his Amazon cards since that way they got to pick what they wanted. Thomasin got a super-soft sweater she squealed over, a special Stanley cup that looked to me like a thermos with a straw in it, and an impressive diamond tennis bracelet. Brad was thrilled with the new watch she bought him, along with a percussive massage gun and a Bang & Olufsen speaker. They were all happy, so I was pleased for them. The fact that there were more gifts that they’d ordered seemed crazy to me, but I wasn’t really a thing guy. I had a really good watch for the field and a gorgeous vintage Rolex that was on my wrist when I was at home. Other than that, I didn’t need anything.

  Kurt also got a Bang & Olufsen speaker from his sister, and he really liked it. But my gift to him, a new Apple watch since he’d destroyed his last one, he was really happy about. The fact that I’d already called our carrier, we had a phone plan together, and I’d set it up so he could make calls on the thing, made him deliriously happy. Setting things up was not something he enjoyed.

  My box from him was suspiciously small.

  “What’d you do?” I asked softly.

  He took a breath. “You know.”

  “I know?”

  Quick nod.

  The box was from Harry Winston, and inside was a platinum ring with diamonds.

  “Kurt,” I barely got out.

  “I know you’ll have to leave it at home with me when you go,” he whispered, “but when you’re home, with that Rolex of yours, I want you to wear your engagement ring.”

  “And when we get married?”

  “We’ll pick out mine together, but really, this is the important one. That’s why there are the two baguette diamonds there—one for me, one for you.”

  “You don’t think they’re kind of big?”

  “Yeah, but it needs to be big so people know you’re taken.”

  I scoffed. “Nobody wants me but you.”

  “That is fundamentally untrue, and if you’d noticed all the people looking at you every time we leave the house, you’d understand my need to put a ring on your finger.”

  “You don’t have to. You know there’s only you.”

  “Yes, I do know,” he said, staring into my eyes. “But this way everyone will know that unless they can top that ring, they need to keep walking.”

  I shook my head at him even though my stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies.

  “And those big brilliant-cut diamonds between the baguettes, there’s one for each dog, and the middle one is for Bubs.”

  I chuckled over that. “I should tell people that?”

  “If they ask, yes. This way they’ll know that the man who loves you gave you a ring with eight carats’ worth of diamonds.”

  Thomasin gasped, and I looked over at her. “Is that a lot?”

  “It’s pretty good,” she informed me. “I’m thinking it’s love.”

  I looked back at Kurt.

  “It’s love,” he promised me, taking the ring out of the box and sliding it onto my finger. It fit perfectly because that was how he was. He planned, and everything always turned out well because he left nothing to chance. “And you’re going to marry me, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said, leaning in to kiss him.

  “How do you feel about March?”

  “Do you want a kiss or not?”

  “Yes. But I also want to marry you in the spring.”

  I smiled at him. “I will marry you in the spring.”

  “For beginnings,” he said with a deep sigh.

  “For beginnings,” I agreed and was still smiling when he launched himself at me and everyone started clapping.

 

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