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FIRST TIMES WEREN’T EASILY FORGOTTEN
NATHAN
Life has never been a game of chance. It’s a game of chess. One wrong move and a person could lose their life. Every step led us to danger, but this one… this one brought me to a taxicab from hell.
The driver paid more attention to the rearview mirror, staring at the man beside me instead of the road ahead. We were lucky that it was still too early for the usual morning traffic because even with the slightest amount of movements from the car, we’d be dead.
I glared at the driver from the mirror. He hadn’t even noticed the death stare I sent him. He was far too busy trying to take a mental picture.
“How about you keep your eyes on the road?” I suggested between gritted teeth. “You know, for everyone’s safety.”
Beside me, my boss cleared his throat. A signal he used to keep others quiet, to keep the peace. He’d been silent for the ride, lost in thought. “As much as I admire your curiosity, Mr. James here is right. You should keep your eyes on the road.”
I glanced over, catching Mr. Vasiliev looking with the driver through the mirror. He hardly ever spoke without making eye contact.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Vasiliev,” the driver apologized. “It’s just the first time I’ve ever seen a famous person before.”
He was lying. There were famous people who came into Boston all the time. The only difference between them and Mr. Vasiliev was the rumor going around that he belonged to the Russian mafia. Being a smart man and using everything he could to his advantage made him the spotlight of everyone’s gossip, even those he hired.
“I am simply a man who pursued his dreams.” He told the driver, his large hand flexing on his knee.
“But you made a lot of money from it.” The driver stopped the car just as we reached our destination. In front of us lay a straight dirt path that led to the mansion. Through the dark, I could faintly see the lights up ahead.
“Yes, but money isn’t all that wonderful. After all, it is only green paper.” He smiled, handing the driver a stack of cash. “Sharing your days with family is far more important.”
If others heard him, they’d think he was a hypocrite. Mr. Vasiliev spent less time with his family than most did. He was always on the go, letting his wife go off on a three years long “vacation” to Thailand. At least… that’s what he said when asked. His children, on the other hand, were both away. The youngest studied at a boarding school somewhere in New York. And as for his daughter, well, she was old enough to do what she wanted… which she certainly did by being a model for Risque Dreams, the most popular lingerie store for women.
I shook the thought of her from my mind. There were more important matters to think about, like making sure my boss made it safely inside his home.
Mr. Vasiliev shifted his attention in my direction and nodded, telling me he was ready.
I pulled on the handle, pushing the door open. Stepping out, I glanced around and made sure the area was safe before I turned back to him.
Mr. Vasiliev slid out, closing the door behind him. “To think, I had not planned on having a building here when I first started, but I’m glad I did.”
Matching each other’s pace, we walked side by side down the concrete path towards the mansion.
“Because it’s your second home?” I asked.
Mr. Vasiliev had multiple homes. One in Russia, New York, Boston, and California, but he always ended up back at his Boston home more times throughout the year than the rest.
He didn’t say a word to my comment, instead he moved on. “It was here that you applied to be a security guard at my hotel.”
“In Crescentgate,” I corrected, but he ignored my words, continuing.
“And instead became my right hand.”
Right hand? No, I was more than certain I was still a guard of different sorts. Being security would have been easier, less trouble, and I’d be with my family. But I moved forward, like the pawns on a chessboard, working for extra money and better opportunities.
“You grew up here, yes?”
I shook my head. “About an hour away, but yeah, I’ve lived in this state since I was a kid.”
Mr. Vasiliev nodded. He was hatching a plan. A plan I probably wouldn’t like. The only thing that came to mind was him forcing me to take a vacation. A day once every few months didn’t count as one in his eyes, but it was the most I could do.
I focused my attention on the road ahead. It wasn’t a long walk to the mansion, but it felt like one, especially on the dark path. Mr. Vasiliev was a private man, and he enjoyed the peace. He didn’t want to be disturbed by trespassers following lights like flies.
We slowly reached the iron gates, and I pressed the button on the call box cemented into the stone wall. “Vasiliev and Mr. James secured.”
As I took my finger off the button, the gate let out a tired groan before opening. We hurried through, little lights lighting up with each step, leading our way up the stairs.
I followed behind Mr. Vasiliev as he entered the two-story mansion.
“Have you thought about visiting your family while we are here?”
And there it was. I should have known the question would come up. I shook my head in response.
“It’s been a year since you last took a vacation.”
Two, actually, not that it mattered. Going home only meant putting my family in harm’s way, and I wasn’t about to do that again. Not after the last time I left. It wasn’t even a vacation; it was just a simple night out in New York. A night that I bumped into my older brother. It was all fun and games until I got a call from my grandmother the next morning. I could still feel the knot in my chest when she told me he went missing.
“You can’t keep blaming yourself for something you didn’t do.”
But I did. I kept my mouth shut, knowing he wouldn’t listen either way.
Mr. Vasiliev stopped in his tracks as we reached the end of the hall. “Oh, Mr. James, before you’re dismissed, I have important matters to discuss with you.”
I stood up straight and leaned against the wall. “Alright, go ahead.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, showing me a recent photo of a young woman. Her bright smile reached the speck of happiness in her eyes. Her shiny brown hair flowed down over a simple black t-shirt. It was nothing like the pictures I’ve seen thanks to my co-workers.
“You remember my daughter, Karina?”
Of course, I remembered her. First times weren’t easily forgotten. It may have been over a year, but what person in their right mind would ever forget the only time they gave themselves blue balls?
Not me.
How could I forget the way she her body molded beside mine, the way her mouth tasted like red-wine, or the way her bare skin felt on the pads of my finger? I couldn’t, and that was probably the worst thing my brain could have ever done.
I squeezed my fist as I tried to shake off the memories, but I could still feel the silk sheets beneath us and smell her perfume—the most wonderful scent I haven’t been able to find on a single woman since. She was a damn sin, one I almost recklessly lost control over.
Mr. Vasiliev locked the screen, placing it back into his pocket. “She is flying in from California and will be here this afternoon.”
I braced myself for his next words, aware of what was coming.
“With the recent threats, I would like you to pick her up from the airport.”
“Of course. I will be there on time.” I bowed my head, agreeing to his assignment.
Even though I was sure she still hated me for the night I rejected her.
