She rushed from the bedroom and almost ran into Glazov when she entered the hallway; carrying a child. Both had black soot from head to toe and she could smell evidence of a fire. She gazed into the innocence of a small boy’s face streaked with soot-stained tears and eyes that held a lost look. She felt like someone had punched through her chest and fisted her heart; twisting it until she could feel the small boy’s pain. He looked so tiny balled up in Glazov’s massive chest. The little boy’s fingers held onto Glazov like a lifeline. Kathleen pushed away the horror of what the boy’s fate would have been if Glazov hadn’t been there to rescue him.
“Bring him in the bedroom, you both need a bath.” Kathleen’s heart wrenched when the little boy peeked out from under Glazov’s coat where he was still hiding. He looked so small and innocent. Kathleen wanted to ask Glazov what happened, but she forced herself to wait so she didn’t put the child through any undue trauma of hearing the story he had lived through. There would be plenty of time to work through whatever had happened and Kathleen would stand by Glazov and the boy while they worked things out.
Glazov called one of the maids to come and bathe the boy after he had showered. He was surprised Kodiak had allowed Kathleen to hold him. The way he had looked up into Kathleen’s eyes like he was searching for answers pulled at Glazov’s heartstrings. Surely the boy longed for a mother after growing up without one. His mother had died in childbirth, so the boy had never known what it was to have one. He had grown up seeing the children at school being hugged goodbye and the void was one he was familiar with. He’d spent time daydreaming what it would be like to experience a mother’s love and Kathleen could give him that. The boy just needed to feel safe right now and because Glazov had saved him he felt safe here.
Kathleen waited until the maid had taken the boy in to bathe him before she asked Glazov what happened. She listened while he filled her in on the horrid details. Her eyes wandered up to the spot where the beam had grazed him when it fell. She patted the place next to her on the bed and redid the dressing for him the doctor had put on.
Glazov scrubbed his hand over his face, “I already had our doctor check him; I woke him up and had him come in.”
“I see he checked you out too. Let’s just hope it doesn’t scar that beautiful flesh of yours,” she teased him; an effort to cut through the worry that seemed to be hanging in the air like an unwanted guest.
“Yes. Thankfully I got Kodiak out of there quick enough to not have any lasting health issues. It was terrible, Kathleen. I’ve never been that scared. It’s the first time I’ve ever been in a situation so out of my control. That raging inferno had a mind of its own. It was like an enemy bent on settling a vendetta. I honestly thought we were going to die. I just kept remembering the promise I made to Leonardo to take care of his son. I guess the old man worried about dying while Kodiak was young—he was older when he had the boy. I’m certain Kodiak not having a mother weighed heavily on his mind. I don’t know how many times he made me promise to always be there for Kodiak. I have to keep Kodiak. Nobody else will love him like we can—like a real family.”
Kathleen eased over towards him and held him. She wasn’t used to seeing him like this. For a man who was always in control, this fire had forced him to realize that life held plenty of circumstances that could put you in a situation of being at the receiving end of fate’s cruel tricks. There was nothing she could do but support him and whatever decision he made about Kodiak’s future. It wouldn’t be hard to bond with the child. She could already feel herself wanting to nurture him. She wondered if the children would be so receptive. They were all so close in age that she hoped the transition would be an easy one.
“What are you going to do about Kodiak, Glazov?” She already knew about the promise he’d made to his late tailor; thus the answer. She still needed to hear it because part of her already felt like it would break her heart to lose the boy. She would always wonder who he was with and if he was okay.
“I promised him I’d keep them safe. I couldn’t keep that promise to Leonardo. I want to adopt him, Kathleen. He’d already left it in his will, so it won’t be a legal hassle. I need to know it’s something you can support, or I won’t do it.” He looked at her from under hooded eyes; heavy with grief and a tinge of guilt.
“Of course, I’m in agreement. I could never turn a child away. Glazov, there’s nothing for you to feel guilty about. From what you told me Leonardo was dead before you got there. It’s evident that the street gang got there before you did. It was an old house and I’m sure it was enveloped in flames quickly. Now what we have to think about is retribution.”
When he looked at her, she was taken aback by the fierceness in his eyes, “The most important thing is keeping Kodiak safe. I’m not going to do anything that puts him in danger. This may be a case where revenge is a dish best served cold.”
The maid returned with Kodiak clean and wrapped in a fluffy towel. Kathleen reached for him and the boy just about leaped into her arms. Kathleen lovingly ran her fingers through the boy’s damp hair. The way the two stared into each other’s eyes reminded Kathleen of how Roksana and Nikita had stared into her eyes after their birth. It had been like there was no one else in the hospital room but them. It was a form of bonding and Kodiak and Kathleen were doing it now. Glazov was right: Kodiak’s safety was more important than revenge.
Chapter Nine
Andre stood across the street from the tailor shop and watched the man he’d seen in the newspaper as he rescued the kid who lived there. This wasn’t what he’d signed up for. He’d been hanging out with a local street gang who had been harassing the old man that owned the business. They’d been trying to force the tailor to pay them off every month for protection. Now his aunt’s lectures about not hanging out with the troublemakers were making more sense to him. If you lay down with dogs… you get up with fleas. Not the most eloquent way of putting it but Andre got the gist of what she was saying. She was known for having a quote or parable for every given situation. She’d once told him the reason was that profound sayings were profound for a reason. Andre just figured she was old-school. Though her way of thinking might not be conventional she was a smart woman who had the ability to read people.
He’d been at the gang’s flop-house when they were talking about throwing a Molotov cocktail through the window and he’d been bold enough to tell them he didn’t want anything to do with burning down the family’s house. They’d laughed at him when he walked out but his convictions about killing an innocent went further than any peer pressure he was suffering. It was peer pressure that had gotten him in trouble—no need in going to jail because of it.
He’d come to the old man’s house and hid in an alley across the street to see if the boys would really do it. He couldn’t believe it when he saw the beat-up black Impala with a busted-out window covered in crude plastic come slowly creeping down the street. It was like watching a movie in slow motion when he saw the bottle filled with flammable liquid go sailing through the air until it met its mark and crashed through the window. He’d hoped the gang had just been talking shit and wouldn’t go through with such a cruel action. The old tailor was harmless, and Andre had hoped the family wouldn’t be subjected to their home being burnt down. Loss of life had never entered his mind. Now the family would be homeless because a bunch of punks wanted to make a name for themselves. It was all about building a rep in the streets and fear was the tool to get there. If people thought you were crazy, they left you alone. This was a neighborhood of generational gang members. The only way to survive the brutality of them was to get jumped in by a gang; two minutes of getting the shit kicked out of you by your gang family. Nothing says family like a beat-down. This kind was just done in an alley with fists rather than around a thanksgiving feast with sharp tongues. Family could be vicious regardless of semantics.