Read Keep: The Wedding: Romanian Mob Chronicles for Free Online

haven’t pushed the issue.”
    “And what does he say when you mention it?” Esther asked.
    “Nothing.”
    She nodded knowingly. “He goes all iceman on you.”
    I nodded and could clearly imagine Vasile and the closed-off expression he got on his face, the warmth that was still new but so treasured leaving his eyes. He’d never told me no, but he’d never had to. His body language, the way he went silent, distant, and cold, told me enough. If Vasile had wanted to get married, we would. We hadn’t, which meant he didn’t want to. I was torn on how to feel about that. I loved him, and I knew he loved me, but I could acknowledge, at least to myself, that our status, or rather our lack of official status, hurt.
    Esther broke into the silence. “Sorin talks too much, but I’m glad he doesn’t do that. It would drive me batty. Not that I don’t love Vasile,” she added quickly.
    I laughed. “Talking about my man? Don’t try to take it back, Esther.”
    “Sorry. Still have a big mouth. So what are you going to do about it?”
    “I don’t know,” I finally said. “Probably nothing.”
    Esther shook her head. “You should tell him what you want. He might surprise you,” she said, patting my hand.
    “Maybe,” I said noncommittally.
    I remained skeptical, though.
    Vasile didn’t change his mind, and though he had never outright denied me, I doubted he’d appreciate me reopening the topic.
    “You wanna get out of here?” Esther asked.
    “Yeah,” I said, standing and walking to Maria. “Come on, baby,” I called.
    I gathered Maria and said good-bye to Esther and Baby Sorin, trying to act as if everything was normal.
    But as much as I tried to ignore the persistent thought that nagged at the back of my mind, tried to pretend that I was fine, the question lingered in my mind. There was only one person who could make me feel better.
    Ioan and I left the park, and despite Maria’s protests, I had him take us directly home.
    I tried to keep my outward calm.
    I sometimes got like this, worried, panicked, desperate to see Vasile. That was natural, I knew. Every second he was out of my sight was one that I worried about him. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe, no matter how hard he tried to convince me, that he wasn’t in danger.
    That wasn’t what drove me now, though. No, the franticness that raced through my blood, that had me hardly unable to stay inside my skin, was because I needed to see him, look into his eyes and see his love.
    The drive seemed to take forever, and I was relieved when the house came into sight.
    But when I walked inside, the house was quiet, empty.
    Vasile wasn’t there.

Four
    V asile
----
    I ’d dispensed with business quickly, but still hung around. More than anything, I wanted to go home and see my woman and my daughter. But duty required me to keep a good face. The money flowed, people stayed out of jail, and those who followed the rules stayed alive.
    You’d think that was enough, but still there were rumors of discontent. Not a surprise, really, but one would think criminals would have better ways to occupy themselves, yet that wasn’t the case.
    They expected hand-holding, a duty that fell to me as their leader.
    “Markov,” I said, sitting at the table across from the man.
    “Ah, Vasile. Hello! Drink.”
    I did and somehow I managed to not come across as disinterested as I felt.
    “It’s good you stayed,” Markov said, his words slightly slurred.
    I said nothing as he patted me heavily on the shoulder, seeming almost undone by the effort. “My man here, Denys, said you wouldn’t,” Markov said.
    “Is that so?” I asked.
    Markov nodded, as did Denys. Then Denys spoke. “Yeah. I told him you’re pussy-whipped. Maybe I was wrong, eh?”
    Then he laughed, but Markov, seeming ever so slightly more sober now, didn’t. Good on his part, but I paid him little attention. Instead, I focused on Denys, kept my eyes glued to his.
    “Is that so?” I asked, voice as it