Bend For Him

Home > Other > Bend For Him > Page 6
Bend For Him Page 6

by Hamel, B. B.


  “Ten percent.” She stared at him.

  Hedeon laughed. “Two percent. Up to five, if you’re useful. That’s the best you’ll get.”

  “Better than my deal,” I said.

  She looked at me for a long moment then nodded to Hedeon. “Fine. I’ll take it.”

  “Good.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “Now you two need to get the fuck out of my house. I keep telling Leonid here that he can’t just show up whenever he wants to.”

  “And yet I never learn,” I said.

  Robin stood. “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “You don’t,” he said. “But try anyway. Things go better if there’s trust.”

  “Come now,” I said softly. “Let’s get going. You got what you wanted.”

  She stared at Hedeon for a brief beat but let me take her wrist and lead her away. We walked back through the living room, down a creaking hallway, and out the front door.

  “Why do I feel like I just sold myself out?” she asked.

  “Because you did,” I said. “But it’s not such a bad thing. You betrayed people who don’t deserve you.”

  “What’s with him, anyway?” She frowned back at the house.

  I released her wrist, but kept guiding her down the block.

  “He’s principled,” I said, trying to find the right words for it.

  “A gangster with principles?”

  “More or less.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “That’s a complicated story.”

  She made a face. “I have time.”

  “I don’t. Come on, let’s get back to the hotel room. You have a lot of talking to do.”

  She let a breath out through her nose and nodded. “Fine. But you can’t keep dodging that question forever.”

  “You’d be surprised.” I grinned at her as we reached my car. I opened the passenger side and she climbed in.

  I got in behind the wheel and pulled out into traffic.

  My new partner sat down low in the seat beside me staring out at the city as it flashed past her window.

  8

  Robin

  “Let’s start with something easy.” Leo grinned at me from the driver’s side and gestured out at the city. “How about you take me somewhere important?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Somewhere we wouldn’t know about.”

  I took a breath and chewed on my lip. We’d spent the night before in the hotel room eating room service and watching movies. I didn’t want to talk about the mafia and he didn’t push me into it.

  But in the morning, he told me to get dressed, and dragged me out to the car.

  “I think I know a spot,” I said. “But it’s not really my family’s place.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s an Italian place. What’s that other family?”

  “The Leone family.”

  “Yeah, them.” I ran my fingers down the window leaving smudged prints. “They have this bakery. Lots of their guys hang around there.”

  “We’re not interested in the Leones.”

  “My uncle goes there sometimes to meet with their Don. And some of his brigadiers go there to meet with the Don’s capos.”

  “Well, that’s actually interesting then.” He stroked his chin. “All right. Let’s start with this bakery then. I guess it can’t hurt.”

  He put the car in gear and pulled out. I sat down low and watched the city flash past. I gave him directions and we snaked our way deeper and deeper into South Philly.

  This was the heart of the Italian family’s control. My family, or I guess my former family, controlled more territory up north and in Center City. The south and the west parts of the city were dominated by the Italians, and although my family was always talking about trying to push into them, nothing ever happened.

  I knew they had some kind of truce, but nobody ever talked to me about it.

  “I’m looking out for a bakery, but I’m not seeing one.”

  “It’s just ahead.” I pointed toward the next block. “Right in the middle. With the glass doors.”

  He squinted, rolled down the block slow, and stared. “Looks like some hipster coffee place.”

  “I think it is. I mean, it’s like a real business.”

  “Not like the sort of shit you worked in?”

  I gave him a look. “Not like that.”

  “What did you do there, anyway?”

  “I was a manager,” I said. “Set shift schedules. Yelled at the girls when they didn’t show up. Pretty thankless.”

  He grunted. “Had a few jobs like that.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  He reached the end of the block, turned right, and started around again. “I worked for this shipping company. They imported kitchen supplies from overseas. Everything from knives to stoves. I lifted shit all day long, fucked up my back for a while because of it. Didn’t matter how hard I worked, how fast I worked, or whatever, I always got yelled at by my dick boss.”

  I laughed. “At my job, I was the dick boss.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Really. The girls were awful though.”

  “Yeah? How?”

  “My uncle was a fan of hiring…” I frowned, trying to find the right words. “Cute Russian girls.”

  “Ah,” he said.

  “I think they were mostly former prostitutes. Girls that either couldn’t or wouldn’t work the street anymore. Some of them actually wanted to earn a paycheck, but most of them were pretty burned out and angry at the world.”

  “That must’ve been hard.”

  “I don’t know. I met some nice people. The ones that weren’t nice, I just didn’t give them shifts.”

  He smiled. “Smart.”

  “I have my moments.” I pointed up ahead. “There’s a spot opening up.”

  He nodded, let the car pull out, then parallel parked in the vacant space. We were half a block from the coffee shop and had a decent view of the front.

  He cracked the windows then killed the engine.

  “I’ve had more jobs than I can count. Stock boy, bike messenger, pool cleaner, painter. Shit, I spent a summer doing roofing. You ever put a roof on a house in hundred-degree weather? That was the most horrible thing I ever did.”

  “Sounds horrible,” I said. “If you had so many jobs…” I trailed off, not sure how to say it.

  “You’re wondering how I ended up a murderous criminal.”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “I didn’t finish high school. Dropped out young, back when I was invincible and too smart for that shit. I tried to make it straight for a while, but there’s not much opportunity for a high school dropout. I met Hedeon when I was twenty, and angry, and a little desperate, and he gave me some purpose. That was almost ten years ago now.”

  “You’re thirty? I would’ve guessed younger.”

  He laughed. “Why? Because I’m so fit and handsome?”

  “Uh, I guess, yeah.” I blushed a little. “I’m only twenty-three. I guess I just assumed you were my age.”

  He shook his head. “A bit older than that, little bird.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “Because it annoys you and I like it.”

  “Those are both frustrating reasons.”

  “Too bad.” He nodded toward the bakery. “So who comes to this place and how often?”

  “I don’t really know,” I admitted. “I only heard the girls talk about it sometimes, you know?”

  “Ah,” he said. “The former street girls. They come here sometimes?”

  “That’s what they said.”

  Have looked at me sideways. “I bet you learned a lot from those girls, didn’t you?”

  “I learned a few things.”

  “Think hard then. I bet there’s a lot we could use.” He sunk down in his seat and crossed his arms.

  “What are you doing?�
��

  “Getting comfortable.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re going to be here a while.”

  “Wait— really?”

  He shrugged. “Got nothing better to do. So we might as well sit around and watch this place. See if anything interesting happens. Hedeon’s got my number, he’ll call if anything comes up.”

  I started to argue then stopped myself. I didn’t know why I cared what we did. The longer we spent hanging around in his car doing nothing, the longer I got to stay out of trouble. So I crossed my arms and made myself at home.

  An hour dragged past. I went from bored to half-asleep. At least the weather was good, a nice crisp fall afternoon. Cool, dry air blew in and ruffled my hair.

  “Here we go,” Leo said. It startled me from a half-dream and I hadn’t even realized I was straight up falling asleep.

  “What?”

  “Look.” He nodded at the door. “Bunch of guys going in.”

  I leaned forward. “I recognize the one.”

  “Really?”

  “Guy in the back. That’s Anton, I don’t know his last name.”

  “What’s he do?”

  “Works for my uncle.” I shrugged and shook my head. “I don’t know what he does, exactly.”

  “Probably just some soldier.” Leo frowned and leaned forward. “What are they doing?”

  The group lingered in front of the bakery. It was three guys, two in suits, guys with pitch dark hair and angry faces, and Anton in a track suit and a pair of dark sunglasses. He took off the sunglasses, said something, gestured around. The guys in suits looked annoyed and waved him off.

  Anton gestured at them.

  “Looks like they’re arguing,” I said.

  “Not having a good time, at any rate.”

  Anton turned away from the bakery and crossed the street. He looked both ways then strode across, looking annoyed. He came to our side of the sidewalk walking with his head held high and his eyes scanning around like he expected trouble.

  “Shit,” I said.

  “What?”

  “He knows me.”

  “Shit.” Leo started the car.

  I tried to slump down further, but as soon as I moved, Anton’s eyes swept toward me. I stared back at him and for one horrible moment we made eye contact. I knew he saw me and he knew I was looking right back. Recognition bloomed in his expression. That recognition turned to surprise as he slowed his pace.

  “Is that Robin?” he said. “Hey, Robin, is that you? What are you doing here?”

  Leo rolled the windows up. But too late. Anton came toward us, bending down to look inside.

  “Hold up,” Anton said. He knocked on the window. “Hold up, Robin, I just—”

  Leo opened his door hard and smashed it into Anton’s face.

  Anton’s nose crunched against the outside of the window. He staggered back and growled in anger. Blood spurted from between his fingers as he clutched at himself.

  “Oh, fuck, you motherfucker!” Anton doubled over in pain.

  Leo slammed his door, threw the car back, then jumped forward.

  Anton shouted something as we drove away.

  “Oh my god,” I said. My heart was racing a million miles per second. There was a red splotch on Leo’s window where Anton’s nose had been. Leo reached the end of the block, turned left, and kept driving for a while. He skipped a couple stop signs and angled north until he pulled over in an empty spot over near Rittenhouse.

  “You okay?”

  I nodded and laughed. I felt insane and terrified all at once.

  “That was really close,” I said.

  “Think he would’ve hurt you?”

  “I have no clue. I mean, do you think my uncle would’ve told all his guys to kill me on sight?”

  He shook his head. “Probably not. But he’ll report that to Maksim.”

  “So we’d better not go to the bakery again.”

  He looked at me then burst out laughing. I laughed with him, unable to help myself. I was so relieved that we’d gotten away, but also impressed that Leo had managed to think so fast and take care of the situation.

  He leaned toward me, smirk on his lips. I leaned closer to him, head tilted to one side.

  I didn’t think about it when he kissed me.

  It felt natural. Like of course he would. I returned that kiss and it was only after I began to love it that I realized what we were doing.

  I pulled away, biting my lip.

  He gave me a little smirk. “There it is,” he said.

  “What?”

  “That look on your face.”

  “What look?” I tried to make my expression neutral.

  He grinned. “It’s half hate, half desire. I’ve got to say, it’s pretty damn hot.”

  “You don’t know what I want.”

  “I know what you look like. And when you bite your lip like that and stare at me like you can’t decide if you want to punch me in the face or fuck my brains out, I’ve got to admit, it really makes me want you to do both.”

  “You’re messed up.”

  “I know, little bird. But tell me you don’t like it when I kiss you, and maybe I’ll stop.”

  “Maybe?” I made a face. “Great. So you’ll just keep doing it no matter what I say.”

  “Probably.” He leaned back in his seat and laughed. “Fuck, that guy’s face when I hit him was priceless. He didn’t see that coming at all.”

  I sighed and shook my head, but a smile slipped back onto my face.

  “What do we do now?”

  “Well, we’ve got all day,” he said. “We could go back to the room and take a nice, long shower together.”

  “I bet you’d like that.”

  “We could skip the shower and I could give you that taste you’ve been craving.”

  “No thanks.”

  “All right then.” He shrugged. “I guess we’re stuck in the car. Got any other places you want to show me? Maybe that diner you worked in?”

  “Yeah, we could do that.”

  “And maybe we can talk to some of those girls you worked with. I bet a few of them would be willing to help.”

  I ran a hand through my hair then tugged at it. “Some might,” I said.

  “Got any names?”

  “I’ll think about it. I might still have some numbers, but they leave a lot, you know?”

  “Sure. Can’t blame them.”

  “But there are always more girls.” I shook my head. “I should’ve left sooner. God, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  He went quiet for a long moment and stared out the front windshield. “It’s easy to convince yourself that things are normal, once you’ve been in them a while.”

  “Yeah? You know about that?”

  “I do,” he said. “I grew up in some shit circumstances. Thought it was normal, though. I thought everyone’s parents drank themselves half to death each night and fought like wild animals. That sort of shit, you know?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  He waved a hand. “Didn’t tell you that for pity. Just that I have some slight idea of what those girls are thinking. And of what you went through.”

  “I’ll try to come up with some names,” I said. “And we can make some calls.”

  “Good.” He nodded slowly. “That’s a start. Let’s go drive past your old job and maybe we’ll shake some more screws loose, find some more leads to track down, yeah?”

  “Yeah, okay.” I smiled at him. “Just don’t kiss me again.”

  “Don’t be so fucking kissable and I won’t.”

  I rolled my eyes, still smiling, and he pulled into traffic.

  9

  Leonid

  Hedeon called that night ten minutes after our room service showed up. Robin helped herself to dinner while I went into the bedroom and answered.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “I got a job for you.”

  “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
/>
  He cleared his throat. “I got word of a spot where some of the boyeviks like to sell their shit.”

  “Corner boys?”

  “No, full-on boyeviks. Straight-up soldiers. But they sell on this corner sometimes to make some side cash.”

  “And they’re Maksim’s boys?”

  “By name, at least.”

  “I’m guessing you want me to hit them.”

  “Ideally, yes.”

  I frowned a little and sat at the end of the bed. “Where’d you hear this?”

  “I’ve got a source.”

  “Inside the family?”

  “You know how this works.” Hedeon sounded impatient. “If you don’t trust me—”

  “You know I do,” I said. “But I like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

  “Pavel will work with you again. Meet up with him at the address I’m about to text to you. From there, he’ll take you to the hit.”

  “Fine. Just be sure your info’s good.”

  “It’s good.” He paused. “How’s the girl?”

  “Interesting,” I said, looking at the bedroom door. “We took a little tour of the city today.”

  “Show you anything worthwhile?”

  “I think we got some leads, but I’ll let you know when something good shakes out.”

  “All right. Do your thing tonight.”

  “Always do. Later.”

  “Later.”

  I hung up and sat there for a moment. I stared at the carpet and let my mind work over that conversation.

  Hedeon didn’t normally assign me a hit with almost no preparation. Normally he gave me a target and an address and let me scope it out myself. He knew I hated going into something blind.

  I could tell this was important to him, but it felt rushed and half-baked. He had some source, but I didn’t know who it was. It didn’t feel normal for a group of real soldiers to stand around and sell their shit themselves. Typically, they farmed that kind of work out to young guys and fall kids that could take a drug charge without doing too much time.

  Still, orders were orders. So I got up and went back into the other room.

  “What was that about?” Robin asked.

  “We got a job tonight.”

 

‹ Prev