I held my breath for a second, then Bogdan clapped his hands, laughed, and said, “Wonderful sense of humor. I, of course, will make sure you’re breathing. My father would be very upset if you were not. He would like a portrait that will go in the main entrance area for now, but then go into his mausoleum upon his death. Unfortunately, that may be sooner than we think so this will need to be done as soon as possible. It is customary for our family to have one done. My father wants you. So, he shall have you, yes? How does starting in two weeks sound? He is recovering from a small scare we had but will be good by then. You will paint, and then he will go back to his homeland.”
I turned to the side and whispered. “We are fine. Bogdan, on the other hand...is batshit crazy. But we are fine,” I repeated for good measure, then said a silent prayer for the slightly altered information in Falon’s background withstanding the Russian’s probing. Having Special Agent Briggs around came in handy.
Falon shrugged and said, “Well, as long as I am breathing, we are good. We will need to set up specific times since as I said, the lighting will be the most important thing for a portrait.”
“Mr. O’Malley, if you do this portrait for my father, let me assure you that you will be under my protection. There is no one on the face of the planet that will dare touch you,” Bogdan said, and then walked to the small bar against the wall. “Scotch?”
Falon rubbed his hands together, “If you don’t have Tequila, then scotch will do in a pinch.”
Bogdan was not at all what we expected, truthfully, when thinking about a drug dealing, murderous Russian, I tended to think tall, mean, bald, and stoic. That was the opposite of Bogdan. The man was medium height, his face was round and handsome with smile lines around his mouth as if he laughed all the time. And his hair...well shit, he looked like Fabio, the younger version, with thicker hair. And Falon, well, he was a dumb fuck, so they were good together in a weirdly right way.
“My assistant needs to find the best place for the painting to occur. If you allow him the right to look around, it would be most appreciated,” Falon said in a high-handed way.
Bogdan turned and smiled, “You know I like you. I think you could be the one who paints me as well.”
Falon tilted his head and said, “You need a portrait for your mausoleum?”
“No, of course not. I was thinking more of a portrait of me to hang over my fireplace—a nude. You know, like your famous MMA fighter did. It was very seductive, don’t you think?”
I paused and turned back, my eyes went wide as Falon looked the man up and down, and then cocked his hip and waved his hand around limply. “It would be fabulous if you had a bear skin rug!”
Bogdan smiled. “I agree. Let me show you what you have to work with,” Bogdan said, and his suit jacket slid off his shoulders, and he started unbuttoning his shirt.
“Oh shit,” I muttered, and I heard Jet and Mace laughing in my ear. The fuckers. Falon put his hands on his hips and stared; however, Yuri’s mouth went thin and tight, he looked like he was going to explode, but he held it in. When the Russian reached for his pants, I had had enough.
“Sir, would you like me to check out the other rooms, the lighting in here is not so good in the mornings,” I said quickly and moved the stupid meter around. Bogdan stopped and looked at Falon and me, then pushed his pants down to the ground and I wanted to groan. Dear God in heaven, were you fucking with me right now?
Falon smiled and said loudly, “Well, it will need to be a large painting now, won’t it?”
“Fuck,” I whispered and heard Mace and Jet laughing so hard, I was certain they were crying.
Bogdan raised his arms and smiled. “You will paint, yes?”
“Sean and I would love to do your portrait as well,” Falon announced, and I groaned. “But, I think you may need to have some surgery first. Your penis, it is kinda crooked.”
I groaned and put a hand up to my face. Why hadn’t our mother smothered him when he was young. “Do you think?” I heard Bogdan ask.
“Hell, doesn’t that hurt when you fuck someone? I mean, that has a serious left turn,” Falon asked.
“I will check the other rooms,” I said desperately as I heard Jet and Mace snorting.
“Yuri will escort you,” Bogdan announced, his right-hand man shook his head but held out a hand.
“This way,” the Russian said with a disgusted tone. Seemed a little shaky in paradise.
Yuri showed me several rooms, which I declared had bad light. The man growled and continued showing me rooms while I held up the meter for Mace and Jet to see what was in the rooms, so far there was nothing to speak about. Well, only the naked Russian threatening to kill us, but other than that—nothing. I had been able to put a bug in each room while Yuri had his back to me opening the shades for maximum light. But I needed to find the office, that was where we would get information.
“Hey,” Jet said in my ear. “Brit IM’d Magenta.”
“Who is Magenta?” I heard Mace ask, but Jet ignored him.
“I am going to answer,” Jet said, and I growled, and then cleared my throat when Yuri looked at me. I turned the meter over so Jet could see me, then shook my head.
To Yuri, I said, “Sorry, there is something in my throat.” Yuri rolled his eyes, and then moved to the next room. I followed while Jet continued to talk.
“She asked when Magenta’s next signing is,” Jet said. “Well shit, and she said Magenta was a badass author and she loves her stories.”
“Who the hell is Magenta?” Mace asked, and then he said, “Sean, scan up, and try to get closer to that table next to the armchair. There is a stack of papers on it.”
I moved and said quietly under my breath said, “Do not fucking answer her. You don’t know the books.”
Jet laughed, “Brother, I don’t need to know the books to answer her.”
Shit, I was going to need a fucking bottle of whiskey after this.
“You assholes need to tell me who Magenta is, ‘cause it is uncool to have a conversation while Falon and I are listening and know nothing about what is going on,” Mace snapped into the earbud, and it took everything in me not to reach up and rip it out of my ear. Then he yelled, “And dammit, get closer to the papers.”
Then Falon’s voice pierced through as he loudly said, “Oh no, I am ON THE JOB. I wouldn’t want to be CONFUSED!”
Jet laughed, “Real subtle, asshole.”
I moved around the room until I was close to the table, and then held the meter out while I checked the light with the small little machine. So far, I had no fucking clue what the hell the little thing was saying. Each time I used it, I just made a small tsking noise and moved on. When Mace told me to move on, I turned and shook my head.
Yuri growled, “There are only two rooms left on this floor. I will need to check with Bogdan to see if he will allow you inside them.” Yuri snapped, “Stay here and touch nothing.”
I nodded as he walked out of the room, and then hissed. “Jet, what is she saying?”
“She asked who Magenta’s favorite character was?” Jet whispered.
Then Mace said, “Flip some of those papers to make sure there is nothing under the top one. And for the last fucking time, who the hell is Magenta?”
I sighed, ignored Mace’s question, and said quietly, “Tell her it is Caro, hands down.”
Jet said, “Gotcha.”
“This is why I told you not to answer her, you don’t know dick about the stories. I mean, they are deep and intricate, and you can’t fake your way through them. They are romantic,” I hissed.
“What the fuck are you reading?” Mace snapped, and I briefly closed my eyes.
“Shut up, Mace, we will explain later,” I whispered.
“She is typing,” Jet whispered back.
“Shit,” I snapped, opened my eyes, and then moved some of the papers to the side and held the pen over them.
“She wants to know where Magenta got the idea to write erotic ménage roman
ce.” Jet laughed.
“What the fuck?” Mace said. “Sean, third paper down, pull it out. And erotic ménage? Seriously, guys. Who is Magenta?”
“Focus,” I snapped and pulled out the paper.
Falon’s loud cry followed, “Yuri, I will miss you while you are gone. I love your sense of humor.”
“Sean!” Jet said quickly. “Answer.”
I threw up my hands and held up the meter and flipped them off. Then I held the meter over the paper Mace wanted and thought for a second. “You got it, Mace?”
“Yes,” Mace said briskly.
“Okay, Jet, write this,” I said quietly and put the papers back before turning and looking out the window and thinking. “Tell her my parents had a true love affair, and while I was growing up, watching them brought out the romantic in me. And just look at the male models on the cover. Dream of being sandwiched between two of them, and you should understand the inspiration.”
I turned, and Yuri was standing in the doorway staring at me intently with a raised eyebrow. “It seems you have more in common with Bogdan than your boss.”
“Uh…” I said and slapped a hand over my face as Jet’s and Mace’s laughter rang through the earbud.
By the time we were done and out of there, Mace and Jet were laughing so hard they said they pissed their pants. Which of course made me want to choke them and Falon. My brother just never seemed to know when to shut the fuck up. When I had come back into the room and told him the best place would be in the office with the lighting, Falon had insisted on seeing it, saying he didn’t trust I knew what I was doing, which of course was true because I didn’t, but it pissed me off.
Bogdan hadn’t put on his pants, much to my annoyance. Walking through the mansion with his weirdly crooked dick had been an experience I was so never doing again. But what made it worse, was that Falon encouraged it. He talked to Bogdan repeatedly about plastic surgeons and how they could fix his issue. To which the crazy Russian had explained how he used his dick to pleasure his partners. Fuck bleach, I needed acid in my eyes.
Two good things came from this trip to the strange side, and that I currently had so much information for a book I could literally just sit and write for days. Also, I had a new character in my book, his name was Dalon, and I was killing him because he was so stupid. It kept me from actually killing my brother, which was a win-win right now. The next good thing was that Jet answering the IMs Magenta had been getting from Brit and the others had actually worked in our favor. They were all talking about it, and since it was all the time, well, Jet and I got more intel on Brit to work with. The woman was driving us crazy. It was her new superpower we decided.
Also, Bogdan had called Falon several times about the painting of his father. He had even deposited the down payment into Falon’s account, which had allowed Mace to track the bank accounts. So far, we had figured out that the Russians were using an account in the Caymans, which we all had offered to travel to in order to get information.
With all the writing I was doing, as well as the time I was putting into the shop, I had little time to do anything other than to bring Brit lunches, and have a bouquet of cookies delivered to the brownstone. We were keeping her on edge, which was what we needed to do.
Chapter Nine
Jet
I stared at Reed as he stepped into the ring. He was sparring with me today since he had already fought in the underground fights. He knew what to expect, and he was also a good match for me. We had trained together prior to his match, add in that we knew each other and worked together, he could help point out any weaknesses. Something I could not have—a weakness, not with the opponent I was to face. I would lose. We had gotten back from the appointment with Bogdan, and the rest of the guys went into a meeting, but I had to practice. Sean was going to catch me up later tonight. Thank goodness, the others had gotten back as well, and we hadn’t needed backup. Though, I assume the first topic of conversation would be why the fuck Falon had a conversation with Bogdan completely naked.
Before we left, Sean had given us a blow by blow account of walking back into the main room and finding Falon sitting with the naked Russian having coffee as if nothing was wrong. Falon had been drinking with his pinky raised in the air, which seemed to amuse Bogdan, who kept pointing out what strong fingers Falon had. Yeah, that was creepy as fuck, and Falon had thought it was humorous. Sean, on the other hand, asked for a distraction to get them the fuck out of the mansion. Neither Mace nor I had been able to figure out what to do.
After Sean had basically announced he wanted a ménage with two men, Yuri had hurried him through the last couple rooms, but Sean had been able to plant several different bugs, which should help since we didn’t find too much physical information. Only a few papers that mentioned different properties and there was also a calendar that looked like it was the fight schedule. If it was, it meant my fight was coming in less than two weeks, and I needed to be ready.
Falon had been difficult to get out of there. Sean said several times Falon had another appointment, but Bogdan hadn’t given a shit. He was trying to solidify a date for the painting to start. If we were lucky, we wouldn’t need to get inside the mansion again. It was Cal who finally appeared out of nowhere and walked up to the door and pounded on it. Mace and I had been concerned. The large man wearing jeans and a t-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders and chest, on a good day was intimidating. They didn’t need to put the Russians on edge now. But when Yuri opened the door, and we heard what Cal said, everyone fought not to laugh hysterically. Cal pretended to be a vacuum salesman, a pushy one at that. But it was all Falon and Sean needed to get the hell out of there.
Now they were in a meeting while I buckled down to get myself into the best training grove possible. While some may think it is easy to do, fighting in an illegal fighting ring and remaining alive, plus making sure you didn’t hurt your opponent too bad, was very difficult. The fact the man I would face was going to be nowhere close to normal, as in I mean, he would more than likely be doped up on roids. This was not a good thing, an athlete on roids was dangerous.
I moved in a circle, watching Reed and looking for his weakness, everyone had one, and I already knew Reed’s. Well, the deliberate weakness he kept changing, the man was tricky, he kept switching shit up and left me waiting to find what he wanted me to see. I heard people moving and shuffling outside the ring. They paused to watch. To them, Reed and I were a duo of fighters who measured each other as we waited for the first strike. I usually liked to be the one who struck first, but this time I had to be patient. Just like I was going to need to be in the upcoming fight.
The drugs my opponent would be on gave him an advantage because whatever they used would cover the feel of pain, which meant the fighter would go on until he collapsed. Michael had made stuff to put on Reed’s taped fists that had aided in his fight. I wasn’t going to use anything on my gloves. I was going in with just strength and skill.
Reed moved to the left, and then swung with his right, it was a simple move, and it was easily dodged, but I knew it meant Reed was stepping up the sparring. He knew as well as I that focus was as important in practice as is was in the fight. One missed step or misplaced punch would leave me vulnerable.
I waited for another opening, held my hand up close to my face, and then I saw it, Reed’s elbow dropped. With snake-like precision, I jabbed, and then swung. I hit Reed hard, his head snapped back, and I grinned a little. Moving back a few steps, I bounced on the balls of my feet, and then I struck again, not giving him a chance to reposition himself.
“Come on, baby, do not take that shit!” I heard Petal yell, and Reed grinned and winked quickly at his woman, and then looked back to me. “Do not give him an opening. Geez, do I need to get into the ring and show you what the fuck I mean.”
“No, honey,” Reed called, and I shook my head and laughed. Mel had taken to showing the women some moves to protect themselves, and after a few instructional lessons, they th
ought they were as badass as Mel was. Those lessons were comic relief for anyone in the gym when they went on.
I caught movement out of the corner of my eyes, and I tried to ignore it. Reed was the one who let a woman distract him not me, it was his weakness. Fuckin’ A, Brit walked passed wearing her tight little work skirt with a white blouse, was she trying to kill me? Shit, she looked good, better than good. Sean and I weren’t going to be able to wait much longer, and I really needed to stop thinking about her and focus on keeping myself alive, or I’d never get the chance to fuck her again. We wanted to court her like she deserved but the whole getting drunk, fake married, and fucking thing was already out there. We had a taste of her and damned if it wasn’t enough.
Reed took advantage of my distraction, and he swung. Thankfully, I was fast and blocked it, so the punch glanced off my cheek. I snapped my attention back to the sparring, and I jabbed, once again making contact. Damn it to hell, I tried to focus, but all I could see was her sweet little ass walking in her high heels. The things I wanted to do while she wore those heels and nothing else. Fuck, I shook my head and focused, but it was a second too late. The fist came right at my face. When it connected, my head snapped back, and my ass hit the canvas.
“Hell yeah, baby, you go!” Petal yelled, now standing next to the ring. “Pound his ass into the ground!”
“Get your head in the game, Jet!” I heard Reilly yell, then he must have spotted Petal because his voice softened. “Hey, there is one of my girls! How have you been? Do I need to kick those boys’ asses again?” Reilly O’Malley and Anthony Roark Sr. had taken it upon themselves to help train me. Hell, they had taken to training anyone in the gym they noticed needed a little extra help. The two older men knew their shit, and even if they didn’t, no one would have said a word. Everyone who entered the gym respected them, Fin would have made sure of it. But he never needed to say a word. Reilly and Anthony were formidable men in their own right.
Dazzled and Dazed Page 8