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“Lady, come,” he grunts.
What the hell. Is this how things end? We have a standoff and then everyone shoots each other dead?
What is with these men? They’re dangerous and scary but also sometimes incredibly fucking stupid.
I slowly push myself to my feet, like it’s a great bother. It’s clear I’m putting all of us in danger with my refusal to budge. Sure, I might end up in a difficult situation alone with thePakhan, but in the interest of minimizing collateral damage, I cave. I consent to the second’s demand.
Like I ever had a choice.
“Fine. Let’s go. I’m ready,” I sigh, my posture strong as I fight the heaviness in my chest.
The heaviness I’ve been fighting for weeks.
I’ll go meet with thePakhan. On my own. I’ll show him the carving on my stomach. I’ll show him the lump where my broken clavicle healed unevenly. I’ll show him the scar hidden by my hair, where I was hit with something that split my head open.
Seems that’s the only way to communicate with him. If he wants to see proof of what happened to me, I’ll fucking show him some.
I have no idea what this man has in store for me, but these recent weeks have been about conquering my fears. I’m strong, stronger than I have ever been, and I will face whatever shit comes my way. If, God forbid, something happens to me, I am comforted knowing the guys will look after Evie until she’s eighteen. They know sending her back to my father is not an option.
We leave the guys, a heavy door closing behind the second and me, and enter a long hallway. I am alone with him against my better judgement, against the guys’ better judgement, and it doesn’t feel good. I’ve only ever seen this guy around the club, usually with Dimitri, and it’s clear he’s trouble. Before I even knew anything about the world I’m now immersed in, I knew to watch my back around him, that’s now much slime oozes off him.
He might be loyal to his boss, thePakhan, but he’s crazy like all these other men. And crazy comes with unpredictability. I might not have a firearm like all these guys do, something that makes me feel invincible, but I’ve managed to…acquirea little something that may come in handy. Just like the second and the brothers pat their jackets for reassurance that their firearms are close by, I pat my own pocket for comfort, where I’ve stashed a stiletto knife. The one my self-defense instructor was showing me how to use.
Which he doesn’t know I swiped from him.
The man was teaching me knife skills the other day. At the end of our session, he was packing up his stuff to leave, when his phone rang. He turned from me for a few seconds, and I helped myself.
I mean, where else was I going to secure a weapon? He’s lucky I didn’t steal his gun. I wanted to, but he surely would have noticed that missing. A knife, not so much, at least not right away.
From what I hope is a safe distance, I follow the second, fingering my own weapon the whole time. I’m not convinced I can defend myself with it, but if I have to, I’ll sure as hell try.
That’s all Icando.
We turn down a corner and approach a heavy wooden door. Before we reach it, the second stops and turns to me.
I wrap my fingers around the handle of my knife and widen my stance just like my instructor showed me.
“You know, lady, you aren’t worth all this bother. ThePakhanis wasting his time with you.”
Breathe…
“Guess it’s a good thing you’re not in charge then, isn’t it?” I quip. “And from what I know, you neverwill bein charge.”
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that these men have outsized egos. The problem with that, for them, is they are easy targets for insults.
And the one I just hurled at the creep in front of me hit just the way I wanted it to.
He presses his lips together, and his face gets red, like he’s holding his breath. “Women are for men’s pleasure. But I am sure no man enjoys himself with an American whore like you.”
He pulls open big the door, standing behind it as he holds it for me. In a flash of what I can only call brilliance, I pretend to trip, falling against the door and pushing it into his face.
Hard.
“Ahhhrrrrgggg, you bitch!” he screams, his hand flying to his nose.
Which is now dripping blood.
Oops.
