by SR Jones
The barman, Derek, Allyov calls him, follows us up the stairs, keeping up a steady stream of bullshit chatter as we go. For some reason, I’m itching to give him a good hiding. Normally, I shut myself down in order to do this. Tonight though, it’s going to feel like therapy, and I don’t want to examine why.
We enter the room at the end of the corridor once Allyov has unlocked it, and I smirk as Derek’s eyes widen at the single chair in the middle of the room and the bright bulb above it.
He turns to us with a puzzled frown, and I push him forward.
“Sit.” I jut my chin toward the chair.
He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing convulsively. “Look, whatever this is about, we can talk.” He holds his hands up, palms forward, cheery smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes.
I push again. “I. Said. Sit. Down.”
This time he does. He lands hard on the chair and stares up at us.
“I hear you’ve been running a side business from my club,” Allyov says.
Derek shakes his head vigorously, opens his mouth, and lies through his pearly whites. “No. No way, I’d never do so, Mr. Allyov, sir.”
“I’ve heard you’re running girls through here. Do you know the kind of shit I can get in because of you doing such a thing?”
He shakes his head. “I swear; I’m not. I wouldn’t.”
I slap him hard, and his head whips around. When he looks back to us, all the color has drained from his face.
“Don’t fucking bother lying to us.”
“Okay, this is how it is going to work, pretty boy,” Allyov says. “My friend here is going to give you a visual reminder you do not fucking cross me in this way, ever. No one does the shit you were and gets away with it.”
“Sack me, let me go, and I won’t say a thing,” Derek babbles.
“Not going to happen, I’m afraid. I need you as a warning. You will keep working here, but you will let others know not to do what you did. You risked my business, this club. My reputation. It would have been bad enough if you’d used women who were willing, but to add insult to injury you forced the girls to do things they didn’t want to do using threats. One of those girls worked in this fucking club. My staff, a woman working for me under my protection, and you threatened her and hurt her. You will pay.”
“I’ll go to the police,” he says.
Allyov gives a short, cynical laugh. “No, you won’t because I have eyes and ears within the police, and if I find out you did, you’ll die. It’s as simple as that. No one will know where you went. People disappear all the time, and you’ll hardly be missed. No family to speak of, brought up in the system. Good looking, uses it to manipulate people, women mostly. But you’ve burned your bridges with so many people, no one will mourn you. Now, you have two options. Number one, we simply make you disappear right now. Number two, you take your punishment like a man, wear the consequences of your actions, and be a nice advertisement for all concerned not to fuck with me.”
“What the fuck? You’re a psychopath,” Derek spits at Allyov. “You’re fucking insane. Wear my punishment, who talks like that?”
“Okay, then. Andrius, end him.”
I go to the far side of the room, take a key out of the drawer there, and then cross to the filing cabinet where I unlock the top drawer. Sliding it open with an ominous squeak in the quiet room, I take out the gun. I make a big show of attaching the silencer, and by the time I’m done, Derek is sweating so much his hair is wet.
“Okay, I’ll take the punishment, whatever it is. I’ll take it.”
I wonder what the fuck Allyov will ask me to do. Carve up his face? I hope not. I’d rather simply shoot the fucker than get into sick stuff. Giving a beating is one thing, a bit of waterboarding to get information out of someone another, but I don’t want to practice my pumpkin-carving skills on human beings.
“Good. Andrius, do your best. As you know, I normally tell you to avoid the face, but this time I want you to make his fucking face the focal point of your attention. He’ll be a walking billboard for how not to fuck with me for a few weeks.”
Thank fuck, not weird knife work. I haul Derek up and slam my fist into his face.
Five minutes later and my knuckles are a mess, but not as bad of a mess as Derek’s face. I took care to not break anything other than his nose. That’s more than enough because it will change his face forever and leave him with black eyes for a while too. I did knock a couple of teeth out though for the hell of it when Allyov let drop the girl on the staff who Derek had forced onto her back was a sweet thing who often served my drinks.
“You don’t need a hospital,” Allyov says.
Derek spits blood out of his mouth and shakes his head. “Whatever you say, boss.” He’s fucking pissed, but he daren’t show it with anything other than the disdain in his voice.
“Go home, take tomorrow and the next night off, then I expect you back at work. Don’t ever fucking run anything behind my back again. However, you take this punishment, keep your mouth shut and do good work from now on, and one day you might end up on the payroll as something more than a barman.”
Derek nods and shuffles out of the room.
Wiping my hands, I turn to Allyov. “You’d give the fucker a place working for you?”
Allyov shrugs. “No. Although, he did show initiative. I’m going to fuck with him for a while though, pretend he might have a future with me.”
“Why?” I ask.
“It suits me to fuck with him. Don’t go getting above your station, Andrius. You haven’t accepted my offer to come work more closely with me, which means for now, you’re only the hired muscle.”
I grin at him. Fucker is trying to wind me up, and I won’t give him the satisfaction. “Whatever you say, boss.” I mimic Derek’s words, and Allyov snorts.
He pats me on the back as we leave the room. “You’re a good man, Andrius. A scary, cold man, but a good one to have around.”
We head downstairs toward the club and as we push through the swing doors, the heat hits me, followed by the pumping bass. The usual service has resumed, and it’s a dance track I can’t tell from any other.
I’m about ready to get out of here. I’ve done what Allyov wanted, and I’m itching to get Violet home where we can talk.
As Allyov and I push through the throng of bodies, I stop dead in my tracks staring. Allyov follows my line of sight, and I glance to see his brows draw down.
Fucking stupid, bitch.
Violet is against the back wall of the club, in an alcove hidden from the table where we were sat, and from Justina at the edge of the dancefloor. She’s writhing against some guy, drunkenly rubbing her ass all over his crotch, while he plays with her hair and whispers in her ear.
I watch as his lips descend on her neck, and then I see red.
Chapter 12
Violet
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. The guy behind me with his hands all over me isn’t my type. I’m feeling a bit sick too, and the room keeps spinning around me. Nothing seems real. The strobe lights, the never-ending sensual bass, the alcohol in my system. The stranger at my back whispering things I can’t hear.
It’s like a dream, and I don’t know why I’m doing this. Except, I’m sick of life being done to me. For once, I’m going to act, even if it means acting out. Andrius thinks he can keep me, come on to me, kiss me, tell me he wants me, and then expect me to accept he clearly has not one, but two fuck buddies.
The utter bastard.
I hate him.
I want him.
Something compels me to look up, and my heart drops as I see him striding toward me. Shit.
I wasn’t doing this to make him jealous. In fact, I didn’t think he’d see me here in this dingy corner. I did this to feel something, anything other than the mess of emotions he inspires in me.
The look on his face is terrifying. It’s one I haven’t seen before. Not the calm he always exudes but pissed off anger. And it’s direc
ted at me. Not at the man currently moving on to nibbling my ear, but at me.
He reaches us, grabs the guy by the scruff of his neck, and growls at him to fuck off.
Then I’m against the wall, Andrius at my front, pushing me back. His hand wraps around my throat and I stare at him as he leans in.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Same thing you do when you’re with Nina,” I seethe. “Enjoying myself.”
“You were enjoying that idiot pawing at you?”
“Yes,” I lie.
The hand at my throat begins to exert pressure. Not enough to hurt or to cut off my air, but enough to warn. “You belong to me, you don’t get to do shit like that. Allyov fucking saw.”
“I don’t care anymore.” It’s true, at this moment at least. I’m drunk. Horny. Pissed off. And frankly sick of this charade.
“You want to be fucked?” His thumb brushes across my lip, fingers still on the side of my throat. “Want some male attention? Pretty bold behavior for a virgin.”
Warning blares out loudly through my drunken haze, but I’m too fucked up to be able to react intelligently.
“I got bored of this game,” I say.
“Yes, you clearly did. And in doing so, you put your life at risk.”
“I don’t fucking care,” I shout. “What life? I have no one. You do nothing but play mind games. I’m a prisoner, and I don’t know for how long. And when it seemed like it might be a bit more bearable because maybe, just maybe, we had real chemistry, I find out you’re a man whore with fuck buddies hidden all over the city.”
He bursts out laughing. The bastard actually laughs. “I don’t have them all over the city, and it’s not as if I knew you’d be entering my life the last time I spoke to either of them. You’ve fucked up, Violet. You’ve made me look like a man who can’t control my woman in front of my boss.”
“Well, you obviously are a man who can’t control his woman, aren’t you?” I can’t believe I’m saying this. I want to take the words back as soon as they are out of my mouth.
The smile drips from his face, and he stares at me for a beat. “Do you remember what I promised when you smashed whiskey all over the place?”
I nod, my mouth suddenly dry.
“It didn’t only apply to spilling whiskey. You’re in so much trouble, and you’re about to get a lesson in how I control my women.”
He grabs my wrist in the proprietary way of his that I half hate and half love.
Dragging me behind him, he takes me to the table where Allyov is settled in his seat. “Gentlemen,” he addresses the men, “if you’ll excuse us.”
He turns to go, and fear suddenly spikes in me.
What have I done?
I’ve pissed off a hitman. His idea of discipline might be to do away with me and bury me under the patio.
I pull against him, trying to root my feet to the ground, looking wildly around for Justina. She’ll help me.
As if by magic the woman appears to my right, stalking toward us. “Another round,” she says before seeing my face and shutting up.
“We’re leaving; you can come with or stay here,” Andrius bites the words out.
Justina grabs her purse from the table, shooting me a worried glance. “I’ll come with.”
Andrius still has his big hand wrapped around my wrist, and I’m still resisting him. He gives one hard tug, and I fall into him. He wraps his hand around the back of my neck. His hold is soft, but firm. “Goodnight,” he says to the table, before he proceeds to guide me out of the club by my neck.
I want to fight him, but I seem to be sobering up, and my sober brain is telling me I’ve gone too far.
Way too far.
We get into his car after he brings it around to the front. Justina asked me twice what was going on while Andrius was gone, but I can’t bring myself to tell her. I’m afraid she’ll be disappointed in me, and my only friend in this hellish situation will turn on me. It’s fucked up, but it’s how I feel.
Andrius opens the back door, and I go to climb in. He shakes his head. “You’re up front with me.”
Justina shoots me another look and gets into the back. I clamber into the front seat and sit with my hands on my lap, fingers interlinked as I try not to give in to the urge to decimate my nails.
Once we’re on the road, Andrius turns to me. “You did a stupid thing tonight, Violet. Luckily, it can be explained away as the actions of a jealous woman. You ever behave like that again in public though, and I’ll dump you so fast your head will spin.”
Oh, the arrogant bastard. Dump me? “You can’t dump someone you’re not in a relationship with.” I smile at my logic and his idiocy.
The car screeches to a halt, and Andrius reaches across me, unlocks the door, and pushes it open. He clicks my seatbelt undone.
“Get out.”
“What? What are you doing?” I ask him, looking around the dark road, scared to move.
“Dumping you. You can be dumped, Violet. Got rid of like annoying garbage. I can do that.”
“Andrius,” Justina begins to speak, but he lifts a hand and shakes his head at her. She shuts up. Clever girl, better survival instincts than me.
“I took you in. When you were trembling at my feet, I had to decide. I could have said no to Allyov, and my life would have carried on as normal. You, on the other hand, you’d have been put on the next shipment of goods to the Middle East. I took you in and kept you, so you’d be safe. I haven’t asked for anything from you, and you haven’t been put in any bad situations by me. Yet, tonight, you put me in a terrible situation. Reputation is everything with these people. You lose your reputation, they lose their fear of you, and the world suddenly becomes a much more dangerous place. What you did, letting that guy put his hands all over you in front of me, in front of Allyov? It was a big fuck you to me. And that, that my dear little Violet, makes me look weak.”
“Violet, what did you do?” Justina’s voice is dismayed.
“He has fuck buddies, and one of them wanted a threesome with me, only she thought I was called Vicky, not Violet.”
“So?” Justina sounds so disappointed in me. “He’s been seeing Nina and Vicky for a couple years. You and he aren’t anything. This is an act, a game. You agreed to it, and now you’ve gone and messed it all up. Badly.”
“I didn’t mean to.” I can hear the sob in my voice and hate myself for it. I turn to Justina, unable to look at Andrius. “My head’s all over the place, and I drank a lot. I don’t drink. I mean not ever. I’m scared, messed up, and drunk. And I got upset. About the women.”
“Why?” she asks. “Why do you care? You should be happy he’s getting it elsewhere, right? You and he can keep up the charade, and in reality, you get to keep your clothes on, and Andrius is kept satisfied elsewhere. You can’t go doing what you did in public tonight ever again. If you have a boyfriend, or someone you want to see, I’m sure Andrius can arrange it. Let them come to the house. Right, Andrius? So long as no one else knows.”
“No, absolutely not.” He shoots her a disgusted look. “Come up with any more stupid suggestions and you’ll be joining her out there.”
“So you get to keep seeing your fuck buddies, but I don’t get to see my boyfriend?” He’s so infuriating.
“You don’t have a boyfriend.”
“I might, you don’t know everything about me.”
“I’m not having you bringing back some guy and fucking him under my roof.”
“Why not?” Justina says this so sweetly. “She can bring her boyfriend around now and again, like I do my girlfriend, and fuck him. You can carry on fucking Nina and Vicky. We all get our rocks off, but no one knows that you and she aren’t bumping uglies outside of us three. It’s the perfect solution, Andrius. She stays with us for as long as it takes, but has her own life within reason, so long as she’s discreet.”
“No.” He makes a dismissive motion with his hand.
I’m getting so angry
I ought to get out of the car and start walking.
“Or, maybe,” Justina says with a sigh. “You two can get over yourselves and just fuck already. The sexual tension between you is ridiculous. I think I might be pregnant from it, and I don’t want kids, so you guys need to sort this out.”
“Justina, shut your fucking mouth.” Andrius isn’t joking, and his words are harsh.
“No, for once I won’t. You think you’re breaking your code; she thinks she’s sick for wanting you. And yet, here we are. The pair of you panting for one another. Does it matter how or why you ended up being pushed together? You are here now, and so long as you both want it, then I see nothing wrong in taking it. Now, Andrius, please will you start the car and take us home because if you throw Violet out, I’m getting out with her. And I hate the dark.”
She watches him as he stares at the road, ignoring her.
“Andrius, please,” she says.
He grunts out a foul curse and guns the engine.
When we get into the house, I bolt straight for my room, as if doing so can save me. Closing the door, I lean against it breathing heavily. I’m sobered up a bit now, not so drunk, and it sucks because I realize what a mess I’ve continued to make. It seems I’m determined to fuck up everything. Instead of going to see a counsellor and talking out my grief, I went on an absurd revenge fantasy, one I can’t seem to kill off.
Then it backfired on me, and I was given away … to a fucking hitman! Instead of doing the smart thing and keeping my head down, being polite, and hoping he’d keep me safe until such a time as I could leave, I poked the hornet’s nest. I let myself fall head over heels in lust with him and encouraged him to do the same.
There’s been a simmering attraction between us from day one when I first noticed him in the restaurant, but it’s exploded in me ever since he brought me here. Being in this place with him, in this surreal environment only makes me want him more. It’s as if here, away from the reality of my work shifts and my crappy flat, I can do what I want with Andrius, and it won’t count. It won’t be a betrayal of my father to sleep with a man who works for his killer. It won’t be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done to give myself over to the thrum of lust between me and this most dangerous man.