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“I like her. She’s feisty,” Misha said.
Ivan mumbled something in Russian under his breath, but still stood in front of me and pulled his shirt over his head. His entire upper body was covered in tattoos. I glanced at them as he took his shirt off but tried not to stare. He looked at me with his intense gaze and turned around. The gash looked even worse without his shirt.
“Oh boy,” I said. “Misha was right. You might really need stitches.”
“Net. No hospitals,” he said as he turned around to face me again. He towered over me and leaned down to add, “Unless you can do it, princess.”
I held his intense gaze and fired back, “Actually, I can stitch it up, asshole. It just isn’t going to look as pretty as what you’ll get if a doctor does it. And I have nothing to numb the area, so it’s gonna hurt like a son of a bitch, which I will enjoy, but you will not.”
The other three men couldn’t contain their laughter this time and all three started laughing quietly at our exchange.
“Do it,” was all Ivan said as he turned around again. I looked to Viktor, who simply nodded his head. Hopping up on the cabinet so I could better reach his shoulder, I started to clean the wound.
When I got to the antiseptic, I said, “This is definitely going to burn. Please don’t murder me.”
Ivan simply grunted. His arms were crossed on his sizeable chest. When I put the antiseptic on his gash, he didn’t move a muscle. He showed no signs of discomfort. I knew he was tough, but that’s seriously impressive. Antiseptic on open wounds usually feels like you’re being burned by battery acid.
When I got everything as clean and disinfected as possible, I hesitated to start the stitches. “This is going to hurt. I don’t have anything to numb the area. I might have some whiskey in the cabinet. Do you want that? It’ll take the edge off, anyway.”
“Where?” he asked. I pointed over his shoulder to the cabinet the whiskey was in. He grabbed the bottle and downed a sizeable amount in one gulp.
I looked at him, my eyebrow raised, “Maybe you should drink more. I’d like to stay alive in this process. You’re a big dude. I’m guessing that wasn’t enough.”
Without a word, he swallowed almost half the bottle. When he was done, he stood in front of me again and said, “Do it.”
I stitched him up as best I could. It was not pretty, but it would heal better than if he had no stitches at all. After I was done ensuring he would have a badass scar from this experience, I bandaged the area to protect the stitches.
“All done. Sorry I don’t have a lollipop or anything to give you for being a good boy. But I do appreciate you not murdering this princess in that process.”
Finally. It happened. He laughed. It was small, but I heard it. When he turned to look at me, he had a small twinkle in his eye instead of looking like he was burning holes in my soul. Apparently, whiskey was the key to this man’s softer side.
Noted.
Misha ran to one of the SUVs outside to get Ivan a new shirt, since the one he was wearing was basically ruined. Viktor received a phone call, which he took in Russian. Once he ended the call, he said, “Boss is on his way here.” He looked at me and said, “You get dressed. We’re leaving once he gets here.”
“We’re leaving? Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safer. Explosion was too close. I don’t like.”
“But I can’t leave. I have to take Ms. Jackson to the grocery store this afternoon. I always take her shopping on Saturdays. Without me, she has no way to get to the store, which means she has no way to eat.”
Viktor frowned at this news. He pondered on a solution for a moment, but just said, “Get dressed anyway. We will work it out.”
I left my first aid kit on the cabinet and went to my bedroom for a quick shower before Adrik got there. I put slightly more effort into my appearance than what he saw the night before, but it still didn’t amount to much. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t get the hang of makeup. I had people tell me when I was younger that I needed to wear makeup to cover up my freckles. I didn’t like the way it felt though. I always felt like my face was being slowly smothered when I wore it. So, I opted for mascara and the slightest bit of eye makeup. That’s as fancy as I got.
Throwing on a pair of black skinny jeans and a white blouse with a camisole underneath, I looked at my somewhat out of control hair. It was still wet from the shower, but I could tell it was going to be one of those days where it did whatever it wanted instead of what I wanted. I shrugged my shoulders, knowing this was not a fight I was going to win easily. I scrunched some product into my curls to help tame the frizz and called it a day. At least having my hair down would help cover my purple neck.
When I came out of my room, only Andrei and Viktor were in my apartment.
“Where did Misha and Ivan go?”
“Outside. Keep an eye on the perimeter,” Andrei said. “We noticed strange cars and people going into bottom apartment.”
“The one across from Ms. Jackson?” He nodded. “That’s Chen. He sells drugs. Those are just his customers. Chen gets a fresh batch on Friday, so his customers come on Saturdays.”
Andrei and Viktor both looked unhappy at this news. Andrei looked at me and said, “We’re definitely leaving. Why didn’t you tell us this sooner?”
“I can’t leave without making sure Ms. Jackson is taken care of for the week. Mr. Turner is at work and Chen isn’t reliable, obviously. And I didn’t think it was important. Chen’s apartment is quiet, except on the weekends. He’s always very respectful to everyone. I don’t even think he lives here most of the week. He just uses the apartment to sell out of.”
