Almost Broken Up (Almost Bad Boys)

by Peart, A. O.

  “So how would this be any better than living with her father? You said he was keeping Faith on a short leash. What you offered was exactly the same. Worse even, since her father actually let her go off to college.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms over my chest.

  “Women need protection,” he says stubbornly.

  Whoa, what rock did you crawl from under, buddy?

  “Okay, fine. So what’s your problem with Colin?” I’m not getting much from him. I still don’t know why he thinks Colin had anything to do with Faith’s death.

  He says through clenched teeth, “That guy made her die. He did that. She was an innocent child, vulnerable, and he took an advantage of her. He got her into drugs and alcohol. He was buying it all for her. He wanted her to get weak and die.”

  I feel my eyebrows draw together. I’m angry and confused. Angry with myself for letting a doubt mar my trust for Colin. And confused, because what Razor is saying doesn’t really add up. It’s a nonsense rambling that comes from a crazy mind. That’s exactly what it is, and I have to dismiss it all. Or do I?

  “What happened after Faith’s father allowed her to go to college? What did you do?” I ask.

  He looks away, not wanting to meet my eyes.

  “What happened?” I insist.

  After what seems like forever, he mumbles, “I… took her and drove her to the cabin. She was to stay there until I got a place in Montana for us.”

  “What? You actually kidnapped her? Why the hell would you do that?”

  “She needed to be protected. She was weak,” he repeats. His eyes are blazing as if in fever, and I see a glimpse of his crazy side again. “I put a collar on her and tied her to bed. She could get to the bathroom, but not any further.”

  What the fuck? A collar? Like on a pet? “Was this how you planned to protect her because she was weak?”

  “You know nothin’,” he snaps. “It was a nice collar. It had real zirconias in it. She liked it.”

  I’m sure she did. “Did she tell you that?” I sneer.

  “She got away, but I know she liked it. She was safe with me.”

  Holy smoke, this guy is impossibly delusional. How can I convince him that his way of thinking is ludicrous, and how do I make sure he leaves Colin out of it? I try carefully, “You went to jail, didn’t you?”

  “For cutting one of the deserving ones,” he says proudly.

  Interesting choice of words. “You mean one of the guys that beat or cheated on their wives?”

  “I cut his ear off with my blade. Slowly. He had to pay for what he did to his girlfriend.”

  I shudder. “What did he do?”

  “Every Friday after work he would hire a prostitute and take her to a hotel room,” he says in conspiratorial whisper. “The girlfriend would wait for him with a home cooked dinner, without suspecting anything.”

  Wow, listening to him was like watching a bad movie. “Why do you think you need to be the avenging hand? These people can resolve their own issues. I’m sure none of them wanted you to take an initiative, especially the way you do.”

  “It’s my job,” he says stubbornly.

  Okay. I rest my case. “You need to leave Colin alone. That’s it. He did not cause Faith’s death. She was drunk and crashed her car. She did that to herself,” I explain like to a child.

  He looks at me in that peculiar way that makes me want to run for the hills. The guy needs to be locked up. Seriously.

  “How do you know? Were you there?”

  “Were you?” I fire back.

  He smirks.

  I smirk too. “You know crap. She was shitfaced. Colin tried to stop her, to take the car keys away, but she hit him with a wine bottle over the head. Split his head open. He has a scar to prove it. She jumped in the car and started to drive off. Colin got in with her, because he was still trying to stop her. She wouldn’t even let him put a seatbelt on her. She veered the car to the oncoming traffic, right in front of a semi. It was a miracle Colin survived that crash.”

  “He won’t survive my blade,” he hisses.

  The connection between my brain and the rest of my body often malfunctions, so I slap Razor before I even realize what I’m doing. Oh, shit. His head snaps to the side from the impact, and he almost falls from the chair. He jumps to his feet, knocking the chair over, and grabs me by the arms, forcing me to stand up.

  Out of nowhere, Oleg appears behind Razor. His left arm circles Razor’s neck in a classic chokehold. Oleg says something in Russian to his own collar. Must be one of those tiny surveillance microphones. Razor struggles, clawing against his attacker’s muscular arm, but Oleg’s grip is unwavering. Razor gives up, and his eyes bulge as he’s gasping for air.

  Svetlana’s by my side, asking if I’m okay. Three bouncers enter the scene, and I see the second Russian thug, Vadim, quickly weaving through the crowd toward us. He stops though when the rest of us are taken to the small office in the back. I ask Svetlana what the hell just happened, and why we aren’t getting away or something. Before she even finishes her sentence we are told to take it somewhere else. Can this day end any worse? Now I’m thrown out from a bar? Seriously? Great.

  THIRTEEN

  “Absence from whom we love is worse than death.”

  William Cowper

  I’ve never been as ashamed as I am now. Dammit. Oleg pushes Razor outside, warning him not to do anything stupid. Huge muscles on his arms are bulging, and prominent veins run under his skin. He is a hulking man, with a brooding expression and heavily hooded dark eyes.

  Vadim joins us outside. “Should we pop him?”

  I feel my eyes grow huge. “What? You can’t be serious. Nobody is popping anyone.”

  Vadim is as big and as thickly muscled as Oleg. His nose must have been broken more than once for it’s misshapen and crooked to the side. There is a long, ugly scar running from his temple through his left cheek and ending past his chin. He just looks like someone who wouldn’t think twice about killing Razor and dumping his body in a sewer. I shudder.

  “No, Vadim. There is no need,” Svetlana says gently. Vadim nods to her. She turns to Razor and asks, “What do you want with my friend, Natalie?”

  He only stares at her in silence. He’s pissed.

  “Natalie!” I hear someone calling my name. I turn and see Jena running toward us.

  “Oh, great,” I mutter.

  “Who’s that?” Svetlana asks.

  “One of my best friends.”

  Jena stops in front of our peculiar group and eyes the guys suspiciously. “Which one of you is Razor?” She puts her fists on her hips, and I must admit she looks like a scary chick.

  “I am,” Razor offers. “Who are you?”

  In the next few seconds the hell breaks loose, when Jena punches Razor in the mouth, Svetlana and I scream, Oleg grabs Razor, saving him from hitting the ground, and Vadim takes two steps back, laughing, hands out in conciliatory gesture. I grip Jena’s arm, and Svetlana clutches her other arm, pulling her away from the guys.

  “What the hell, Jena?” I gasp.

  “Fuck!” Razor wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “What was that for, woman?”

  “For stalking my friend, you asshole!” Jena yells. She has a real problem with stalkers. Two of her ex-boyfriends did some serious stalking to her, and I remember how scared she was. If it wasn’t for Ali, Caroline, and yours truly, Jena would probably go crazy with the stunts they pulled on her. So I can hardly blame her for going postal on Razor after learning from my text about what’s going on.

  Vadim is still laughing, eyeing Jena with admiration. His eyes twinkle, and he looks totally impressed with her. Oh, great. Oleg’s pensive look loosens a bit, and there is a ghost of a smile on his tightly pressed together lips. I guess that’s the most humor he’s capable of showing.

  Svetlana reaches her manicured hand to Jena. “I’m Svetlana.”

  “Ah, so you are the Russian chick.” Jena takes Svetlana’s hand and tips her chin at her, a
dding, “Milo poznakomitsya.” I’m guessing it’s something in Russian—a greeting maybe?

  All three Russians immediately start speaking in, what I assume, is their native language. Razor and I look at each other and shrug.

  “I don’t really speak Russian that well.” Jena stops them.

  “No matter, no matter,” Svetlana weaves her arm through Jena’s and takes her to the side, speaking slowly, “Ty niemnozka gavarish po russkiy, da?”

  I look at the two of them, dumbstruck. What the hell am I supposed to do with Razor? I glance at him. Oleg is holding him by his arm, although Razor doesn’t seem to be planning an escape. This is just getting weirder by the minute.

  “What are we going to do with you?” I simply ask.

  “I say we pop him,” Vadim offers.

  I give him a stink eye. Oleg is quiet, and so is Razor, frowning at me. And then something occurs to me. I stand close to Razor and ask, “How did you really get that nickname of yours? You didn’t carve anyone.”

  He looks at his feet, chewing on his lower lip. “No. I’m an assistant chef at a Chinese restaurant. I chop veggies and meat. I’m good with knifes… in the kitchen.”

  I exhale. “So why the crazy bat circus with stalking me? Why did you threaten Colin?”

  He shots sideways glances at the Russian men. I tell them to let me speak to Razor in private, adding quietly to Oleg to stay close.

  “So? What’s going on?” I ask, trying to sound gentle. I see Jena and Svetlana a few yards away, gesticulating and consulting a small book—most likely the Russian dictionary that Jena brought with her. Geez, I have weird friends.

  Razor kicks at the dirt, clumps of it flying to the sides. His jaws are tightened, and his eyebrows are drawn together.

  “Tell me,” I insist.

  “Faith was really my daughter, not a niece. Nobody knew… only her mother and me. I kept an eye on her all my life. My brother thought Faith was his. And she didn’t know either. I had to protect her.”

  “So you put a collar on her and tied her to a bed?” I ask incredulously.

  He’s silent for a long time. Then he looks at me, and his eyes are unfocused. His mind is somewhere else. I guess he isn’t all together in his head, after all.

  “Razor? Or whatever your real name is—”

  “Aldo,” he interrupts me.

  “Aldo,” I repeat. “I like that better than Razor. Okay, so what’s the story with accusing Colin of Faith’s death?”

  “He should’ve protected her and kept her away from booze and drugs! He should have. She was weak. It was his fault she died—”

  “No! We’ve been through this. Stop it. You’ve got it all wrong. Didn’t you hear what I told you about the night of the accident? She didn’t want him around. She was running away from him and into her car to take off. He caught up with her, but couldn’t stop her. He tried. He really, really tried.”

  Aldo puts his face in his hands. His shoulders start to shake. Dammit. He lowers himself to the ground and quietly sobs. I sit by him. “You need to talk to someone… a professional. Otherwise you might end up hurting a person that’s actually innocent. Not that you should hurt anyone. This terrible car accident wasn’t anyone’s fault. A few bad elements came together and into some sort of a shit-crazy avalanche. Faith was at the wrong place, in the wrong time. Colin wasn’t fast enough to stop that avalanche from crashing over her.”

  He lifts his head and looks at me. His face is wet from tears, and there is so much pain in his expression, that I feel my heart is about to break. Losing his only child, after living a lie, must be tragic.

  “What were you in jail for?” I ask.

  “Theft and destruction of property.” He shrugs. That’s so much better than his previous version of cutting someone’s ear off. Geez.

  “So why did you tell me all these stories about you punishing cheating men?”

  “Because I want to punish them. I see guys hurting women all the time—physically and mentally. It bothers me. They are someone’s daughters… just like Faith was my child.” Two large tears slip down his cheeks, and he quickly swipes at them.

  “Promise me you will get help. And promise me you won’t hurt Colin. He’s a good man. He’s taking a good care of me,” I say gently.

  Aldo looks at me with his sad, wet from tears eyes and nods. “He really protects you? Takes care of you?”

  “He does.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “Colin would never hurt anyone. I know that. Try to believe me.”

  Aldo doesn’t answer, only looks into the distance. The Russian guys are smoking cigarettes, and the smoke starts bothering me.

  I cough and cover my mouth and nose with my hands. “I need to go. I hate cigarette smoke.” I stand up. “Promise me,” I insist. “You leave Colin alone.”

  He exhales and finally says, “I promise.”

  Okay, that’s settled then. I turn to look at where the girls are. They are talking and laughing, oblivious to what’s going on here. It looks like we have a new member of our crazy Female Solidarity Club. I smile to myself.

  Aldo stands up and puts his hands in his pockets.

  “Do you live in Seattle now?” I ask.

  “No, I’m still in California.”

  “When are you going back then?”

  “I’ll try to catch a plane tonight.”

  I fold my arms across my chest, cupping my elbows in my hands. I’m not sure if I should say something to this. What would I say? He needs to go back and stay away. I only hope that Aldo keeps his promise.

  FOURTEEN

  “Sex is like money. Only too much is enough.”

  John Updike

  Ali’s upset after I tell her what happened last night.

  “You were asleep. I texted you. Caroline is the only one that actually has a reason to bitch, because I didn’t text her. Although I doubt she would, since, I’m sure, she got laid last night.” I try to reason with her.

  “Pffttt, Davenport, really? You deliberately cut me out of some fun. You included Jena, didn’t you? Is she a better friend than I am? I’m so pissed at you.” She paces around my office, throwing me vindictive glances. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  I groan and continuously hit the back of my head on my desk chair. “It’s not my fault you were sleeping. I sent you and Jena the same text, you moron. Your phone must have been off, right? But regardless, you think this was some kind of a fun-filled adventure?”

  “Wasn’t it? Because it totally sounds to me like it was.”

  “Okay, there is no talking to you. You’re a freak. Do you realize how terrified I was? I almost pissed my pants. I had no idea that this guy was all fraud, only pretending to be some kind of a wanted criminal. He’s totally messed up in his head. I was scared for Colin. I though he was in an actual danger. And then the Russian mafia… well, at least those maniacs are for real.” I shudder, remembering Vadim’s eagerness to “pop” Razor.

  “Still, you should’ve called me on my land line. That would’ve woken me up,” she says stubbornly.

  I moan. “Okay, next time I’m about to engage with a stalker, the mafia, or any other questionable element of this society, you’ll be the first to know.”

  She stops pacing and puts her hands on her round hips. “You better, sister. Or I will personally come after you. Now, when is Colin coming back from Atlanta?”

  I look at my watch. “In about four hours. He kept sexting me this morning, so I can only imagine how horny he is.”

  “Oh, la la!” Ali claps her hands. “Good for you. Are you picking him up from the airport?”

  “Yep. Bringing him straight to my place and tossing him in between my sheets.”

  She winks at me. “Knowing you two, there will be a quickie in the airport parking garage.”

  “No, there won’t be.” I snort. “The backseat sex is so overrated.”

  “So you say.”

  I’m waiting at the gate, concentrating on the passengers getting off t
he plane and into the Alaska Airlines terminal. A middle aged, bolding man in a navy-blue suit drops his newspaper right by feet. We both bent to retrieve it and almost bang our heads. I grin at him and he returns my smile.

  “Oh, sorry. And thank you,” he says, pushing his metal-rimmed glasses onto the bridge of his nose.

  “The flight was delayed. Do you know what happened?” I ask him.

  “They wouldn’t really tell us any details. Just some technical difficulties.” He shrugs.

  A short, plump woman, holding two small kids by their hands walks past, speaking to them in rapid Spanish. Each of the children carries a small, cute backpack. I smile at them.

  There is a group of elderly people, talking loudly and gesticulating, each of them dragging a small carry-on. One of the ladies walks with a cane, but that doesn’t stop her from keeping up with the rest of the group.

  Still no Colin. I start worrying—yesterday’s events are vivid in my mind, and I still can’t be sure if Razor… Aldo—I like that name so much better than his stupid nickname—will keep his promise and forget about his obsession with Colin. I can only hope he will.

  Oh, Colin. I miss him so much. In those few short months I totally fell for him. He’s so different from all the losers from my past. He actually cares for me and isn’t afraid to show it. My heart beats faster when I think about him. Come on, where are you, Colin?

  And then I see him, and he sees me. Our eyes meet across the crowd, and I laugh and wave and jump up and down, like a schoolgirl. I don’t care how immature I look—I’m simply happy that he’s here; that he’s safe… and mine; all mine.

  He rushes toward me, and I run to him, calling his name. I fall into his waiting arms, and my lips find his. I claim his mouth, kissing him like there is no tomorrow. “Oh, baby, I missed you,” I whisper against his lips.

  Colin laughs between the kisses. He holds me tight, caressing my back, my arms, my shoulders, kissing me over and over again. “So I see. I missed you too.” He pulls back to look at me. His face is brightened by pure joy, and his eyes are blazing with desire. “I want you now, right now,” he murmurs, clenching his teeth and smiling in that insatiable way only he can.