Luck Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Author's Note

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  Author's Note

  More Books by Scarlett

  Find Scarlett Online

  Acknowledgments

  Luck

  New Hope Academy, Episode Two

  Scarlett Haven

  Copyright © 2016 Scarlett Haven

  http://scarletthaven.wordpress.com

  All rights reserved.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is episode 2 in the New Hope Academy Series.

  I highly recommend picking up Fate (episode 1) before reading Luck.

  ONE

  What I was afraid of.

  I wake up to the sound of beeping. I lift up my hand to reach for my phone, wanting to turn it on silence, but something yanks it back.

  “Ouch,” I say, rubbing my hand. There is something on it. I open my eyes to see that I am attached to wires and there is an IV in my hand. And the beep is the sound of a heart monitor.

  What happened?

  Memories of Kazimir come rushing back to me.

  Oh my gosh!

  Tristan!

  I hear the beeping increase as my heart starts to race.

  “Katerina,” I hear.

  I look over and see Damon. My heart doesn’t slow down. “Tristan…” I manage to choke out.

  “He’s fine,” Damon says.

  My heart finally starts to calm down a little. “Thank God,” I say, grabbing my chest. “Did they catch Kazimir?”

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “He got away.”

  I sit back against the pillow, feeling deflated.

  “So your dad is Mikhail Vasin,” he says.

  I nod.

  “The Russian terrorist.”

  I nod again.

  “And he wants to kill me.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Do you hate me?”

  “No,” he answers. “Because I also know now that your mom is Elizabeth, and she is the woman that is trying to save my life. I don’t have to meet your parents to know that you’re more like your mom than your dad.”

  “Thank you,” I tell him.

  “For what?” he asks.

  “For believing in me. Most people wouldn’t. They would see how bad my father is and assume I’m like him,” I say. “Though, I must admit, before coming here I never thought of my dad as a bad guy. He’s not all bad, just so you know. I mean, it probably seems that way to you, because he wants to kill you.”

  “Everybody has good in them, Katerina,” he says. “Just like everybody had bad in them. Which side wins defines who we are. I’m sorry that your dad hasn’t fought harder to be good. How can he look at you and not want to be good.”

  “You’re pretty smart,” I tell him, thankful that he doesn’t just blindly hate my dad, even though he has every right to.

  He shrugs. “I have just been around a lot of politicians.”

  I laugh. “So what happened last night? Why am I in here?”

  “They say you had an anxiety attack,” he answers. “All I know is that you ran into my dorm room like a mad woman, spouted some stuff about Kazimir and then passed out on my floor. I was worried sick.”

  “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  “It’s not your fault. Tristan told me what happened. About that guy holding a knife to your neck. He also told me that you didn’t know your dad was a terrorist until you came here. No wonder you had a panic attack. I probably would’ve had one a lot sooner if I were you.”

  “Did Tristan tell you that he saved me?” I ask him, slightly disappointed in myself. “All that training and he still had to save me.”

  “Come on, Katerina. Kazimir is in his thirties. He’s had years of training. You’ve had a month. You’re just being hard on yourself,” he says. “Tristan has been here all night, waiting for you to wake up. I don’t think he will ever leave your side again.”

  “Ugh,” I groan. “I guess I’ll probably know what it’s like to have somebody guarding me twenty four seven. Tristan will never let me do anything without him ever again.”

  “Welcome to my world,” he says.

  The door opens up, and Tristan walks inside, a energy drink in hand.

  “You’re up,” he says. “Finally.”

  Damon stands up. “I’m going to let you guys talk.”

  He walks out into the hallway, and I’m left there with Tristan. I’m so glad he’s alive. I’m also glad that he was there to save my life. I don’t know what I would do without him. Honestly, without him, I’d probably be dead right now.

  Tristan walks over to the chair where Damon was sitting and takes a seat. He leans forward, and opens his mouth like he’s going to talk, but then shuts it again. Maybe he doesn’t know how to begin.

  “You saved my life,” I say.

  “Yeah,” he says.

  “Thank you.”

  He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s kind of my job to protect you. And I almost let you die. That can’t happen again. I won’t let it. We have to train harder. I thought we’d have more time…”

  “It’s not your fault,” I say. “We have been training hard and doing all we can. You didn’t know Kazimir was going to show up.”

  “No, I didn’t,” he says, agreeing. “I honestly didn’t think anybody would show up. Not for a while anyway. I don’t even know how he got into the country. We’ve had people watching him. I see now that it’s not enough. Katerina, I’m sorry that I let you get in harms way.”

  “Don’t apologize,” I say. “Never apologize.”

  “Why?” he asks.

  “Americans apologize way too much. You should save your apologies for when you really mess up,” I answer.

  “I did really mess up,” he says. “I almost let you get killed. I can’t believe I did that.”

  “Not that you need forgiveness, but I forgive you,” I tell him.

  “Thanks,” he says. “So, did Kazimir say anything to you before I showed up?”

  “Barely,” I answer. “He asked if my dad sent me here because I’m replacing him. Like maybe he thought my dad was going to fire him. Can you even fire a terrorist? I don’t know. It was weird. Bur I don’t think he believed me when I said I wasn’t here to take his place. How could he think that? I’m a sixteen year old girl.”

  “I don’t think your dad knows he’s here,” Tristan says, then frowns. “Katerina, I think it’s time you called your dad.”

  “What?” I ask, my heart spiking again.

  “Don’t say anything about you knowing what his real job is. Just tell him about Kazimir coming here. Tell him about him holding you at knife point. Your dad is going to figure it out anyway, and it’s better you tell him first. If he finds out later and knows you didn’t tell him, he will figure out something is up,” he says. “You need to do this to protect your mom and yourself.”

  “Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath. I can do this for my mom. I’m just scared to hear his voice. “Do you know where my phone is?”

  He nods, and pulls it out of his pocket. “Your dropped it on the path last night. I think I stepped on it, but it’s working fine. The screen didn’t even
crack.”

  “Good,” I say, taking the phone. “Can I have some privacy?”

  “Yeah,” he says, getting up. “I’ll wait in the hallway. Let me know when you’re done. I’m never leaving you alone again.”

  That is what I was afraid of.

  He goes into the hallway, leaving me with my phone.

  Knowing Tristan won’t give me a lot of time, I pull up my contacts and dial my dad’s number. It rings only a couple times before my dad picks up.

  “Katerina,” he answers. “What’s wrong?”

  I’ve only called my dad a few times in my life, and every time I have, something bad has been desperately wrong. My dad is at work a lot, so I usually don’t bother him.

  “Dad…” my voice breaks, as I realized how much I missed him. It’s not right. How can I miss him? He’s a terrorist. I should hate him. But I don’t. “Kazimir showed up at my school, Dad. He… he held a knife to my throat. He was talking crazy.”

  “What all did he say?” Dad asks.

  “Not a lot. He didn’t make sense,” I tell him. “He kept accusing me of trying to steal his job. And then my friend Tristan showed up. Somehow he managed to get the knife away from Kazimir and then he took off.”

  “Are you sure that it?” he asks. “He didn’t say anything else?”

  “Daddy, I’m scared,” I say, to avoid answering his question.

  “Don’t be, princess. I’ll take care of Kazimir. You won’t have to worry about him anymore,” he says.

  “How?” I ask.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’ve got to get off here. But do me a favor and don’t tell your mum what happened.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just don’t want to worry her,” he says. “She’s already went through enough with Eduard. Let’s not make it worse.”

  “Okay.”

  “I love you, Katerina.”

  “Love you too, Dad,” I say, as the line goes dead.

  How can my dad hide so much of his life from me?

  And better yet, how can I still love and miss him as much as I do, knowing who he is and what he does. I should be mad at him. I should hate him. But I don’t. More than anything, I just wish I could hug him and have him tell me everything is all right. Because that is what I need.

  I need my dad.

  Pretend.

  Tristan hasn’t left my side.

  All.

  Day.

  Long.

  I was released from the hospital earlier, and since then he has stayed annoyingly by my side. He even stands outside the bathroom door, waiting for me. Which is really, really frustrating. I just want five minutes of privacy.

  “I think I’m going for a run,” I say to Tristan. Maybe I can out run him. But then I think about running into Kazimir and realize that would be a bad idea. I will just have to pace him, because he can protect me.

  “Nope,” he says.

  “Why not? You can’t tell me what to do,” I say, even though I know he can.

  “Yes I can. I’m bigger than you,” he says. “And you’re not going because you were just released from the hospital. There is no way that I am letting you do any kind of physical exertion this weekend.”

  Of course he’s not.

  He’s just going to make me sit here and go crazy.

  “I just want to not think,” I tell him, hoping that he will cave. “When I run, I can turn off my brain. It’s wonderful.”

  “Not happening,” he says.

  I sit down on my bed, feeling frustrated that this is my life now.

  Savannah is hanging out with Kaiden and Madox playing video games. It’s pretty much their Saturday routine. She doesn’t know what happened last night and hopefully she never will.

  “I miss him.”

  “Him who?” Tristan asks.

  “My dad,” I answer. “And I feel bad for missing him. But he’s not the awful person you think he is. Not all the time. At home he’s kind and gentle. I just wish I could see him and talk to him.”

  “You shouldn’t feel bad for missing him. You didn’t know,” he says. “But you do know now.”

  “I wish I didn’t know.”

  “Don’t ever wish that,” he says. “Knowledge is power. When we go to Russia for Christmas break, you will see your dad differently. There is no way you couldn’t.”

  “What do you mean when we go to Russia for Christmas break?” I ask.

  “Oh, you didn’t think I’d let you go alone, did you?” he asks.

  “Um, yeah,” I answer.

  “Nope. I’m going with you.”

  “How am I going to explain you to my family? ‘This is Tristan. He’s teaching me how to take down Dad’s terrorist group, don’t mind him,’” I say, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

  “I’m not going as your bodyguard. I’m going as your American boyfriend,” he says.

  I laugh.

  Hard.

  Tristan frowns at me.

  “Oh, you’re serious.”

  He nods.

  “You’re going to pretend to be my boyfriend?” I ask.

  He nods again.

  “Right,” I say. “That won’t be awkward at all.”

  “Oh, it will be very awkward,” he says. “But we don’t exactly have another option.”

  Could this day get any worse?

  I look around my dorm. I still have twelve vases full of a dozen roses each. The balloons are all still scattered across my ceiling. And the sign Damon made is hanging above my bed. At least I have one thing to look forward to—homecoming with Damon.

  “That kid really likes you,” Tristan says, looking at the sign Damon made for me.

  “I think he does,” I say.

  “You like him too,” he says. It’s not a question.

  “I do. I mean, I’ve been attracted to him since we first met at that dance, but it’s more than that. He’s a really sweet guy. And he makes me happy,” I say. “I think he might someday be my first boyfriend.”

  “Your first?” Tristan asks.

  “I’ve never dated anybody else before,” I tell him. “I’m only sixteen. Plus, I have three… two… big brothers. They don’t exactly make it easy to guys who like me. They’re pretty big, so all the guys in Russia were scared of them.”

  “Huh,” he says.

  “You scared to go to Russia now?” I ask. “My brothers will definitely give you a hard time. Because they won’t know that we’re pretend dating. They’ll think we’re for real dating.”

  “I’m not scared,” Tristan says.

  “You should be. I am,” I admit. “You should’ve seen how Dimitri was teased the first time he brought home Elana. Every time they got close to each other or held hands we would whistle at them. It was kind of hilarious.”

  And okay, yeah, maybe I did a little teasing myself. I’m his little sister. It’s my job.

  “Eduard and I used to make kissy noises every time they were over,” I say, laughing.

  “Well, I don’t plan on holding your hand,” he says. “Because that would be really awkward. But let’s not talk about it now. Christmas is still over two months away.”

  I nod.

  Obviously I hit a sore spot.

  Memo to self: Tristan does not like to be teased about hand holding.

  He must have had a bad breakup.

  “We need to get out of this room,” Tristan tells me, standing up. “If I look at another purple flower or ballon, I may vomit.”

  I laugh, but follow him.

  Maybe Tristan is hating this just as much as I am.

  He’s a twenty one year old man. He probably does hate babysitting a sixteen year old girl.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, as we walk out of the dorm.

  “You’re sorry?” he asks.

  I nod. “I’ve only apologized two, now three, times in my life. But I just wanted to say sorry that you have to babysit me. I’m sure there are a million things you’d rather be doing
right now.”

  He stops and turns towards me. “I’m not going to count this as one of your three apologizes, because that is the most ridiculous apology I’ve ever heard. I want to keep you safe, Katerina. Always.”

  “Because I’m your job. Right,” I say.

  “Not because you’re my job. Because you’re you,” he says, then starts walking. “Come on. I need to leave this campus. There are way too many teenagers here, and I’m starting to get a headache.”

  I laugh, but follow him to his car. I am not sure what kind of car it is, but it’s black, shiny and very new. On the inside, I see a symbol that says BMW. It’s not as flashy as I expected, consider he is a spy, but it’s still nice.

  “You’re taking me with you, so I guess you’re technically not getting away from all the teenagers,” I say.

  “Katerina, trust me when I say this, you’re only a teenager by age. Your maturity is far above these idiots,” he says, then shakes his head. “I shouldn’t say that. I was a teenager not that long ago. But it seems like forever. I grew up way too fast. Kind of like you.”

  “Right. Because your brother died too,” I say. “When you were my age. So five years ago?”

  “Yeah,” he answers, then clears his throat. “Do you want to get food?”

  “Sure,” I say.

  “There is a Russian restaurant in town,” he tells me, putting the car in reverse. In the center, I see the back up camera turn on and I watch it as we back up.

  “That would be amazing. I miss Russian food. No offense, but American food is horrible,” I say. “I think I understand why Americans are so fat.”

  He laughs. “You probably shouldn’t say that to anybody else.”

  “I say it to you because you’re not fat,” I say.

  “There are fat people in Russia too,” he says. “I’ve been there, you know.”

  “Yeah, there are. It’s just different,” I say. “And I blame Russian’s obesity problems on the western world. Some people started adopting an American diet. My mum, even though she’s from London, adopted a very Russian style of cooking. I think it’s because this older lady that used to live next door to us. Her and my mum were always hanging out and she taught my mum how to cook.”