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Which, with a glance in their direction, makes Vadik and Niko unhappy.
Correction.Veryunhappy.
There’s some serious history here, and it isn’t pretty.
Niko takes a step toward him. “Dimitri, I told you hands off,” he growls.
Vadik looks among the three of us, quickly assessing what’s going down. It doesn’t take him long.
He smooths his hand over his shaved head, a casual, innocuous gesture, I can tell intended to keep the situation calm. Which means the situation probably won’t remain calm.
I’m fascinated, bizarrely enjoying my front row seat, and at the same time wishing I were anywhere else on Earth at the moment.
“Dimitri, did my brother have a talk with you about Charleigh?” Vadik asks with a pleasant smile.
These guys are good. Like, Academy Award good.
And Dimitri, either stupid or masterfully antagonistic, waves him off like an annoying fly. “Oh, Vadik, everything is fine. Niko is just a little…protectiveof your latest girl.”
While new to this shitshow, even I can see that Dimitri’s pushing his luck, probably on purpose, to get a rise from the guys. And to further double down, he pulls me close with a tight arm around my shoulder.
Again.
Talk about poking a bear. The man’s crazy. And he clearly has something up his sleeve.
My mouth grows dry when Vadik steps closer to Dimitri, getting in his face, where I’m perfectly situated in the line of fire. I gently twist to get out of his grip, but he doesn’t budge.
“Let her go,” Vadik warns, his voice taking a warning edge. Close up, I can see tiny lines between his eyebrows, lines I’m pretty sure indicate his current mood.
Which is not happy.
Dimitri laughs. Because of course. He knows exactly how to push the brothers’ buttons. These grievances are old. Longstanding. And infinitely deep.
And even when it looks like they’re all about to come to blows, I still can’t free myself. That does not bode well. I’ve seen a few fistfights in my day, and know the best thing is to get as far away from them as possible.
Niko takes up position next to his brother. “Vad, Dimitri here is under the impression he’s somehow entitled to Charleigh. I told him otherwise, but for some reason the message hasn’t sunk into his vodka-addled brain.”
With all of them in an angry standoff, I nervously look from one to the other. If anyone loses his shit, I will end up with a black eye, broken nose, or worse.
I clear my throat quietly. Maybe I can attract their attention. They’ll realize they need to get me out of the way. “Hey, guys, do you mind if I—"
But I stop. Even though I am intentional and confident in my tone, it is clear my appeal will do no good. I’m standing right before them, but it’s like I’m not even there. As if I’m invisible. The expressions on their faces, like angry bulls, tell me they won’t hear anything I have to say. While the conflict of the moment is about me on one level, it’s anything but. These guys could be fighting over a cookie and would be just as threatening, vying for the position of top dog, remembering nothing but past insults, grievances, and betrayals.
I’m just an excuse for another thing to fight over.
It’s not about me. Not at all.
The grin on Dimitri’s face starts to falter, and I sense things are getting more serious. His grip on me loosens and I quickly step out of the way. Which is not to say I relinquish my front row seat. On no, I’m not doing that. The more I learn about these guys and their operations, the better off I’ll be at understanding what I’m up against.
And that will inform how I respond to things. It’s all about self-preservation now. Nothing more. If these guys have the bitter, long-standing rift they appear to, I will find a way to exploit it.
* * *
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Charleigh
Like I’m some sort of masterful criminal strategist.
