Hey guys, I'm back earlier rather than later with another chapter! I had a long weekend and wanted to get this chapter up before I start my last unit of diseases and medications (which is supposedly a hard unit). Even though this chapter serves as a critical turning point in the books, I feel like it didn't quite turn out well in Alexei's POV (since it feels like something is missing to me and it's shorter than my other chapters). So this chapter may not be as good quality compared to my other ones ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Gonna reply to reviews on the previous chapter, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed!
Guest: Going to assume that ending took you by surprise, I hope you liked it!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Embassy Row series and all the characters (except for Tanner and Jordan and Alexei's Moscow friends (Roman, Eugene, Josef, and Yulia), who are my own creations). They belong to Ally Carter. I am merely using her characters and plotline to create this fanfiction. This fanfiction is purely for entertainment purposes and would not exist without Ally Carter's wonderful works.
The events that happen in this fanfiction are not meant to be representative of real life. Any similarities to any real-life events or fictional works is purely coincidental and not intentional (with the exception of the original Embassy Row books by Ally Carter since this fanfiction is literally See How They Run but from Alexei's, not Grace's, perspective). The character's actions may not always reflect my own opinions or views. Based on what happens or is mentioned in this chapter (spoiler alert), I do not condone murder or aiding a fugitive.
Trigger warning: mild to moderate
This fanfiction is rated T, for suggestive themes, language, and violence. This chapter contains talk about mental health issues and death, which may be triggering to some readers. Read at your own discretion.
Chapter Seventeen: I Can Handle Rough
I was vaguely aware of the voices around me, the conversation serving as background noise and nothing more, the words going in one ear and out the other. I had no idea what they were talking about, not when the sound of the explosion kept ringing in my ears.
I wasn't sure where they had taken me, as I had blindly followed their lead, willing myself to put one foot in front of the other until I was finally offered a place to sit. It wasn't the Russian embassy though; this place was too dirty to match its pristine interior. Besides, I couldn't bear to think of the embassy without Mikhail there.
Mikhail. The man who had loved me more than my own father had. The man who had raised me like his own child. The man who had given up everything for me, including his life. I couldn't stop replaying that scene in my mind. Although I was far away from the Russian embassy, the only thing I could see was the black car blowing up in a burst of flames. I couldn't get Mikhail's horrified face out of my mind. It was an image that would haunt my waking moments and my nightmares forever.
Mostly, I couldn't stop replaying Mikhail's last words to me. Ya lyublyu tebya, Lyosha. I love you, Alexei. He could have told me to run or to stay safe, but instead, he told me that he loved me. He really had loved me more than anything else in this world and now, he was gone, so brutally and unfairly ripped away from this world. He had been the kindest, most loving man and didn't deserve to die. I cursed the universe for the way it worked. I guessed good things didn't always happen to good people after all.
I supposed I should have felt sadness or anger but I didn't. I didn't feel anything. I just felt numb, like I was a hollow and empty shell of my former self. It was like a part of me had been ripped away when Mikhail had been taken with that exploding car. And it was a part of me that I'd never get back. I supposed this was how Mikhail had felt when Natalia had died. Or how Grace had felt when her mother had died. Both of them had recovered but they weren't the same. And now that Mikhail was gone, I feared that I wasn't going to be the same person I had been before.
"I knew him." I hadn't realized I had said that out loud, not until I felt three pairs of eyes on me. I looked up, meeting Grace's eyes. She would understand. She had faced death before and looked it directly in the eye.
"The man in the car. His name was Mikhail. He was my father's personal driver. I know him. I mean … I knew him. He taught me to ride a bicycle." And so much more than that. Over the years, he had taught me so much about life and love, from the practical to the wise. And now, he'd never be there for me again.
"I'm so sorry, Alexei," Megan said, patting my hand. "We're all so, so sorry." Mikhail had been so much more than my father's personal driver though. He had celebrated all the good times with me and held me close during the bad times. He was the man that I truly looked up to and strove to be like. Most importantly, he was the man that I would almost dare to call my dad, not the man who had passed his genes onto me but the man who had nurtured me and loved me unconditionally. That was an honour I would never bestow upon my father. How could I, when my father had beat me mercilessly throughout the years and had never shown me more than an ounce of love.
"Second floor!" Grace called out. I was momentarily confused, broken out of my reverie by the sound of pounding footsteps. It was only when a tiny, blonde blur burst into the room did I realize who it was.
"Grace, I got your text," Rosie said, her voice frantic. Her eyes darted around the room, looking, searching. "Where is he? Is he …" Her wide, terrified eyes met mine. All at once, a look of relief filled her face. She hurled across the room, launching herself towards me. I barely had time to react, managing to catch her at the last second. I put my arms around her and pulled her close.
"I was so worried," Rosie croaked, her voice full of emotion. I rested my cheek on the top of her head, as she folded herself into my lap.
"I am okay, Rosemarie. All is well," I replied. Even though nothing was alright, I wasn't going to say that, for fear of upsetting Rosie more. She had already been so upset when she burst into the room, frantically searching for me to make sure I was okay. Yes, she was officially a teenager now, but in my eyes, she was still just an innocent, little girl. I didn't want to shatter that innocence just yet.
"Did you get it?" Grace asked.
Rosie handed a large bag to Grace. "Of course. It's a madhouse out there. The embassies are all closed off and the street is blocked and there are television cameras everywhere. But it was easy. No one paid any attention to me."
Grace opened the bag and started digging through its contents. She pulled out an older iPhone model from a few years back, eyeing it questionably. I didn't blame her. I could almost imagine Tanner having a heart attack if he had to part with his newest edition iPhone and use the model in Grace's hand.
"The embassy keeps those for staff and visiting dignitaries," Rosie said. "No one has used them in months. They won't be missed." It looked like I was going to have to part with the new iPhone I had purchased last year for that older one. However, it was a necessary sacrifice, to keep my father or anyone else from tracking me. I only hoped that Tanner wouldn't send an endless flood of Snaps or texts. It would only raise suspicions, which was the last thing we needed.
"Rosie, I love you," Grace said.
"Most people do," Rosie replied, with a nonchalant shrug. She snuggled closer to me and I squeezed her tight. Yup, Rosie was a very likeable person.
"Don't worry," Grace said. "We're going to keep you safe until we can find a way to get you out of Adria."
"I'm not leaving the country," I said, my voice strong and steady. Even though there were many things I was uncertain about at the moment, that was one thing I knew for sure, that I would not leave Adria.
"You're not safe here."
"I will not run away like a coward." I had to do the honourable thing and face the consequences. Even Adria wasn't safe for me anymore, I couldn't just pack my bags and leave everyone behind, vanishing without a trace. I got myself into this mess; now I had to do the right thing and get myself out of it.
"If you stay here, whoever blew up the car is going to find you. And they are going to kill you. And maybe not just you. Don't tell me you still want to turn yourself in?" I thought about what Grace had said. She had a point. Whoever blew up the car had obviously wanted to target me, not Mikhail. Mikhail hadn't done anything wrong. On the other hand, I was accused of murdering a West Point cadet. I imagined there would be a few people who would want to seek vengeance for that and right it by killing me. I had no idea who those people were or the lengths they would go to kill me. However, I did know that I would face whatever consequences there were, even if it meant turning myself in. As much as I didn't want to do that, I knew I would do it, if it meant that more innocent lives would be saved. I quickly considered my other options, all of which weren't great. I decided to go with the least harmful course of action.
"I must return to the embassy. I'll be safe there, and in the meantime –"
"Alexei! Stop!" Megan screamed. I turned towards her, surprised. She wasn't one to start screaming at random. That was a Grace thing to do. "It was a Russian car, housed and maintained in a Russian garage. And it exploded." Megan eyed me carefully, as if waiting for me to realize the implications of what she was saying. I sat there confused, not immediately understanding.
"Someone got to it from inside the Russian embassy," Megan continued. "Which means …"
"You can't go home," Noah finished, placing a hand on my shoulder. All at once, the gravity of the situation hit me. I immediately wanted to protest. I had to go back to the embassy. Even though Mikhail wasn't there anymore, it was still my home. It was where I belonged and it was only right for me to go back there. Besides, I didn't have anywhere else to go. However, I couldn't stop thinking about how quickly the press conference had been set up. My father had spear-headed that whole operation. He had been in control of every single detail, right down to the car that would have taken me to the police headquarters.
I suddenly stopped short, my train of thought screeching to a grinding halt. My father. Had he been behind Mikhail's death? I couldn't imagine why my father would want to kill Mikhail; after all, they had been friends for many years. However, my father had been willing to put me in a chokehold, not once, but twice. Besides, he used to be an assassin with the Russian Special Forces. Somehow, it wasn't a stretch for me to imagine that he'd sacrifice his friend if necessary or willingly murder his own son. That thought brought me to another startling realization. What if my father had killed Spence, however far-fetched it may have been? After all, he had no reason to do so and didn't even know the guy.
Yet, to an accomplished sharpshooter like my father, I supposed killing was the same, regardless of who the person was. It didn't matter if my father knew the person or not, all he had to do was aim and fire, or in Spence's case, tackle and squeeze, and that person would be dead in a matter of seconds. With skill like that, my father had the potential to kill literally anyone. And if we weren't careful, any of us could be next. I wondered if my father would try to kill me again, given that his first attempt had failed. I wouldn't be surprised if he did, just to prove that he could.
"We'll hide him!" Megan exclaimed, breaking me out of my thoughts.
"Where?" Noah asked, turning to face Megan.
"I know a place," Rosie said. I regarded her curiously, wondering what she could be talking about. I was just about to ask her when Grace spoke up.
"Is there another embassy that would take him?" she asked. "I know the US won't do it, but what about –" Unfortunately, I never found out which embassy Grace suggested taking me to because at that moment, a piercing whistle filled the room. I winced, as the sound was maybe two feet from my ears. I looked down at Rosie, wondering how such a loud noise could have come from such a tiny girl.
"As I was saying," Rosie started slowly, "I happen to know a place. It's just that, it may be a little … rough."
Rosie looked up at me, seeking my approval. Maybe it was the innocent look in her eyes or the way she seemed genuinely concerned about my well-being. Either way, I couldn't help but grin at her. "I can handle rough."
"Do you have everything you need?" Grace asked again.
"I will be fine, Gracie. Thank you," I replied, looking at her. At this point, I had lost track of how many times Grace had asked me that. I wasn't annoyed at her, but worried. Worried that she had put her faith in me and was actually concerned about my well-being. I didn't want Grace to be worried about me. She didn't need to be dragged into my problems, not when she had so many of her own.
I glanced at the random assortment of objects on the dirt floor. They would be my only belongings for the next little while. Gone was my spacious bedroom with an attached bathroom, my closet full of nice suits, and my many electronic devices. Aside from the torn suit I had changed out of, all I had now was a small cave hidden in the hills at the northern edge of Valancia. I took in the narrow entrance that I just barely fit through, thanks to my tall frame, and the stone ceiling above me. I glanced at the cracks in the ceiling, seeing tiny glimpses of the dark night sky outside. If my situation wasn't so dire, then this would have been a beautiful place to camp out for a night.
"Noah's dad likes to go camping," Grace said. "He managed to smuggle out a stove and a sleeping bag, and we have some water and protein bars in that bag. You're supposed to be able to make coffee with one of those contraptions, but the instructions are in Portuguese, so –"
"Grace," I said, placing my hands on her arms. She was rambling, a sure sign that something was bothering her. I really hoped she wasn't worked up about me staying out here. I could take care of myself. I would be just fine out here, on my own.
"We're going to take turns bringing you food and stuff, so don't worry. Someone will be here tomorrow with –"
"Grace, I'm fine." Her hands started shaking and I instantly knew what was bothering her.
"If there is anything in particular you'd like, just let me know. You've got Rosie's phone and all of our numbers, but we probably shouldn't use them except for emergencies because –"
"Grace," I said, pulling her close to me. She finally relented, sinking into my arms.
"When I saw that car explode …"
"I know." I smoothed her hair down so I could rest my cheek against the top of her head. I held her tighter, as if trying to protect her from her demons.
"I smelled smoke. I hate the smell of smoke. My mom … There was a fire. And ever since then …" She started shaking again, the tremors rippling throughout her entire body this time. I held her tighter, trying to calm the quivers that ran throughout her.
"It's okay." I hadn't known that smoke and fire triggered her panic attacks, if that's what they were. However, everything made so much sense now. Like the way she had jumped in the street, after the credentials ball, when the streetlight flickered and how she seemed to lose her mind anytime smoke or fire was mentioned.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Alexei," she said, like it was a well-rehearsed line. I had to stop myself from staring at her in shock. What on Earth did she have to apologize for? If anything, I should be apologizing to her, for creating this giant mess and dragging her into it. I shouldn't have been fighting over her like she was an object to be owned. Yet, thanks to my unfortunate male pride and my feelings for her, I had done just that and created something so much worse. If there was an award for screw-up of the year, then I was definitely in the running. Somehow, that thought made me laugh, especially as I realized that Grace had saved me from screwing up even more.
"I have never been drugged before. It was a new experience for me. And considering it saved my life …"
"Not for that." Grace pulled away from me, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "For my country. For how quick we were to hate you. I'm so sorry we're so out for vengeance." I fell silent at that. I couldn't believe she had taken it upon herself to apologize to me, on behalf of her entire country. After all, it wasn't her fault. I wasn't surprised that the United States reacted so strongly to Spence's death, given that the country was known for being headstrong. In their political eyes, I may have been a wanted man but that didn't mean all its citizens wanted Spence's death to be avenged.
"Are you not out for vengeance, Gracie?"
"Not from you." Did she not want to be like the rest of her country? Or was it something much deeper than that, something personal? Whatever the reason, I wouldn't ever know.
Grace pushed herself away from me. I noticed how she winced as she put her hand on her side. Had she gotten hurt? What if one of those American college students had injured her, either inadvertently or on purpose, for being associated with me? It looked like Grace wasn't going to be the only one out for vengeance. And if I wasn't careful, then I could end up taking things much further than she would. After all, my fight with Spence was ample proof of that.
I looked up through the cracks in the ceiling, noting how it had gotten infinitely darker. I leaned down to turn on a lantern, no doubt belonging to Noah's father. A warm, yellow glow filled the cave, creating shadows that lit up the stone walls.
"It's getting late," I said. "You should go home. It would not do for your grandfather and Jamie to worry." Besides, I was pretty sure neither of them would be thrilled to find out Grace had been associating with me, a Russian and a wanted man. At this point, I was probably the worst influence possible on her.
"What about you?"
"What about me?" This cave was all I had now. I was a wanted man and couldn't go back to my old life ever again, not without risking my life.
"I mean, should someone tell your dad that you're okay?" I had to stop myself from laughing. My father would not care at all if I had died. The fact that he had likely been willing to murder me himself clearly proved that.
"Everyone at the embassy will know I wasn't in the car. They will feel nothing but relief." My father was probably glad that he had one less nuisance to deal with in his life. I wasn't his problem anymore, now that I wasn't at the embassy.
"They're going to think …" That I had run off? That I had killed myself? Honestly, the possibilities were endless. However, I wasn't going to worry about that. I couldn't care less what my father thought of me, not when I had more important things to take care of. Right now, it was my very survival.
"Grace?"
"Yes?" She swayed closer.
"I'm going to be okay," I said. She looked like she didn't believe me. I didn't want her worrying about me though. I could take care of myself. I would be okay.
"Of course you will," Grace said, even though she still didn't look convinced.
"And, Grace …" I couldn't help but brush a piece of her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. "You'll be okay too."
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter will be up between Mar. 16 and Mar. 24. I've got 4 exams and 3 assignments due over the next 4 weeks so there will be a bit of a longer wait for the next chapter. Thanks for being understanding; I'll see you in a month!
