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Unfortunately, it’s just us out here. Everyone else has already left for work.
I tear my car door open before he can come up with a new way to traumatize me, sliding inside and locking the doors. I swear to God, if he jumps in front of my car, I’m going to run him over.
But all he does is wave as I start my car and drive away, still smiling like I’ve proved something by saving him.
He probably thinks I like him, but the reality is that I’m just not a psychopath like him. I don’t want someone’s blood on my hands, no matter how unhinged and terrifying he is. Pasha needs help, and I hope he gets it, but I’m also going to call the police if I see him again.
Sadly, my phone is dead again after only being charged a few minutes at my apartment, and I’m already late for work, so I’m not calling anyone right now. I’ll just have to pretend nothing happened, but that’s how I’ve always had to behave.
Pretend I’m not about to vomit when I hear a car engine revving in the parking lot.
Pretend my stomach doesn’t drop every time I witness a car run a red light.
Pretend I don’t hear my sister gurgling blood beside me every fucking time I sit down in my car.
Pretend nothing ever happened, just like I always do.
5
Pasha
Itwirl a pair of small blue panties around my finger as my car idles outside of a luxury apartment on the south side of town. My phone is in the other hand, pressed to my ear as a receptionist connects me to the owner of one of the pharmacy chains that operates in the city. It’s a popular place, but they don’t have many locations near Valerie’s apartment.
I’m not taking any chances, however.
“Hello, this is Gregory Author, how may I help you?”
“Pasha Chazov,” I reply, still twirling the panties on my finger.
Even though Gregory doesn’t say a word, I hear the tension grow in the room he’s in. The air is suddenly thick with worry, as though I’m going to call him out for doing something wrong and send my goons over to his house to kill his entire family.
I allow him to steep in worry for a few sour moments. I don’t owe him an explanation for this phone call until he asks.
“Um, Mr. Chazov, what can I do for you, sir?”
Right under my thumb. That’s how I like them. It doesn’t matter how much money a man has; at the end of the day he answers to me.
“I’ve spoken with a few other places about the same thing, so I’m just bringing you up to speed here,” I begin, putting the panties down beside me on the seat. “As far as you’re concerned, there’s a shortage of birth control in the city right now, and you’re just not sure when you’re going to get more in. Could be weeks, could be months.”
He takes a moment to absorb what I’m saying before he attempts to make sense of it. “So, you want us to take it off our shelves? All brands, or just one company in particular?”
“No need, but make sure you don’t sell any to a woman named Valerie Castor Morgan.”
“Could you spell that name for me?” he asks, and I can hear him scrambling for a pen and paper.
I spell it out for him slowly, making sure he doesn’t miss a single letter. It’s paramount that Valerie doesn’t get her hands on birth control. She’ll be looking to replace the box I stole from her dresser, but if she does, I’ll be forced to start all over again.
I make Gregory spell the name back to me several times before I’m satisfied that he has it down correctly. “Remember,” I say, lowering my voice and deepening my tone. “If I find out that Valerie bought birth control from any one of your stores, even once, that’ll be the end of it. For you, for your business, for everyone in your family.”
“I can assure you, Mr. Chazov, sir, there will be no birth control on our shelves for as long as you dictate.”
“Good,” I snap, hanging up the phone immediately. I don’t have time for any further pleasantries, nor do I think Gregory deserves them. I have a meeting with a very important seller in ten minutes, and I’m not a fan of being late.
I grab the panties off the seat beside me and tuck them into my back pocket as I leave the car. The moment I step onto the sidewalk, the doors of the cars behind and in front of me open, and my bodyguards pile out. There are no fewer than four dozen men, scanning the street and gripping their guns like they anticipate an attack at any moment.
On the south side, you can’t be too careful. I know my brother Anatoly doesn’t want me dead, but he wouldn’t mind if I ended up in the hospital for a few months. Out of sight and out of his way as he attempts to take over the rest of the city.
I have him beat already, but that just means he’ll be more desperate to get me out of the way. He wants everything I want, the bastard. He’s always trying to prove that he’s better than me, but he’s always been in second place.
