“And…there it is,” I mutter under my breath. I feel like I’ve just been slimed and I convulse in disgust.
Bryson walks us out to the back yard arm-in-arm. “He’s dangerous, Trista. Don’t underestimate him. He may seemed chummy, but I know the look he gave you, I don’t want you doing this. I’ll get Andri to the room myself.”
Looking out over the serenity of the valley below, I contemplate—but not about his caution.
“You know, a few weeks ago I would have been pissing in my pants with all this shit. A few weeks ago, I was this mousy, afraid, pre-adult going to school and working in a repair shop; a girl that had never seen her own country, let alone traveled out of it. I was pretty square, and look at me today, look where I’m standing, married and in Croatia. My life has become so far left of center—confusing, yet controlled and somehow I feel this weird calmness for what has to happen. I think about what happened with Supak, what happened to me. Andrijica Simic is the top of the mud mountain.”
I take Bryson’s hand as he stands next to me. “I’m no longer a virgin to this anymore. And quite frankly, I was raped from my innocence before you showed up in my life, Bryson Seviride.” I place a gentle kiss on the back of his hand when I bring it to my lips. Enfolded with mine, I hold it to my chest.
“I’m gonna climb to the top of that mud mountain anyway. Do what I need to do, even if it means killing him myself. Dead is dead. I’m sure Mr. Freaky Eyes won’t care who did it.”
Marvy’s hatred and Valeria’s anger drive the words. The surfacing feelings have never left me and I don’t care where they came from. Whose emotions belong to who doesn’t matter anymore—they are mine now. I just know they’re there and I’m feeding off them to get me through this. Like a dull, smoldering piece of coal, it blackens me, and it’s intoxicating. The thick elixir bathes me, bolstering my strength, making me feel powerful and savage. How have I not known this drug called vengeance could be so seductive?
With my eyes closed, I snake my head enjoying the immersion. “Mmmm…,” I purr. The sea air saturates and fills my lungs as I hold it captive in my lungs. Slowly, I release it moaning, lost in the pleasure of causing pain to the man responsible for ripping my life apart.
Bryson has to quicken his pace to chase me down when I abruptly leave him in the backyard without a word. I weave in and out of groups trying to lose him, intent on finishing this myself. Jason and Hennessey have difficulties keeping track of me as well in the massive living room. I notice Bryson stop suddenly, motioning to Jason. Hennessey sees him too. I follow their stares; Nikola Baric is standing at the foot of the stairs watching everything like a hawk seeking prey. The fetid man smiles when his eyes fall on me.
I turn too quickly startling a server almost making him drop his serving tray full of bubbly filled champagne flutes.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” I fumble.
The dark haired server smiles and offers me a glass of the champagne. Thinking being inebriated is not such a good idea when I’m about to go all “bad ass” on the nation’s most dangerous crime lord, I politely decline.
Taking a closer look at the server, I narrow an eye. “No, thank you. Can I get a soda instead?” I ask. He looks vaguely familiar, but I dismiss the thought. Marvy doesn’t though.
Hey dumbass, I know that guy! Marvy chimes, intruding my thoughts. Trista, he’s the one that sold me the coke.
“What?” I say aloud. A few mingling guests’ eyes are drawn to me curiously. I bow my head and slip behind a large houseplant in the corner.
Marvy continues impatiently, That’s the guy, I swear it!
“Wait, what?”
Oh my God, T! Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! I’m so stupid! It all makes sense now.
I shield my mouth so I don’t look like a total bush-molesting maniac. “What the hell are you talking about? What makes sense? I don’t understand.”
Look around. Are there any undercover guys here?
“What? Why…,” I scan the room, but no one looks out of place.
Don’t you get it? This whole DEA thing is a god damn set-up! They needed ME because they knew Bryson was into me. They caught me with the Coke because they were the ones who sold me the Coke!
“Wait, isn’t that illegal?”
This time Star pipes in. It’s called entrapment Tristiana, and yes, it is illegal. Worse yet, you were underage at the time. Once they found that out, there was no way they were going to make those charges stick. They duped us into believing they would though.
Well, isn’t that just a big bag of hairy dicks, Marvy says bitingly.
“So what? There’s nothing I can do about it now. I’m still here and completely FUBAR’d,” I say through gritted teeth.
What do you mean? You can walk right out of here scot–free! They can’t touch you and they know it! Marvy says excitedly.
The multiple voices are making me dizzy. Rubbing my temples, I sigh, “Again, so what? It’s not like I’m not in the living room of the most dangerous man in Croatia. Sure, I’ll just go out to the dirt road and hitchhike my way back to Florida.”
Oh yeah. They say simultaneously.
“Yeah, there’s that. And Bryson? He’s in this shit because of me.”
Marvy scoffs, Fuck Bryson.
I repeat my sigh, “Shut up, Marvy.”
“Marvy?” Andrijica walks up next to me. To no avail, my eyes quickly flick around in the vain hope of an escape.
With his arms open, he lifts a smile. “There you are. How about that tour now?” He doesn’t pause for an answer and slithers his hand to my lower back to guide me.
Guests keep stopping him to ooze their compliments and gratitude. All the while, he graciously introduces me and makes polite commentaries. I don’t catch many of the foreign names as my thoughts compete between the stupid Marvy-Star conversation and Andrijica’s cold fingers. His hand moves lower on my back and his pinky is under the chevron of my dress, stroking my spine. The screaming inside my head roars, “RUN!” spinning my mind spastically.
Andri must notice my waver as we move through the crowd. “Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he suggests in my ear. “I’m tired of these people.”
The deceptive way he vivaciously socializes with those that put themselves in our path is astonishing. He’s like that DC character, Two-Face, though I don’t think he’s dealing with any kind of duality between right and wrong. He’s just creeping me the fuck out and seems amused by my uncertainty.
I grip my crystal clutch to feel the security of the little gun hidden inside. It helps to soothe the intense anxiety throttling me. That is till I look up and see where we’re headed. Nikola Baric remains at a distance, watching from his perch on the stairs as we approach him.
“Nikola, you made it! May I introduce, Mrs. Marvy Seviride? She and Bryson were married today! Marvy, this is Nikola Baric, he is very close to the family.”
Nikola takes my hand and kisses the back of it. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Repulsed that his lips are touching my skin, I retract them instinctively. My action spawns his lip to twitch up duplicitously. “Are you giving her one of your infamous tours, Andri?”
Andrijica shoots him a warning glare. “She is a special guest in my house, Nikola. I want to make sure she is enjoying herself,” he replies, navigating around him. “Don’t be such an outcast, go mingle. You look like a vulture waiting for the jackals to leave a fresh carcass.”
“Spoken like a true scavenger, Andri.”
Andrijica is quick for a skinny guy, and lays a heavy hand on Nikola’s shoulder. He leans in, whispering a threat, “Know your place, Nikola. You are neither my blood, nor a relation. A product of a drug-addicted whore and a premature ejaculation. I can feed you to the dogs and no one would question me. Especially with Supak still missing. Do not try my patience.” He releases Nikola’s shoulder and smooths his jacket. “Go have a drink, maybe find yourself a nice girl to suck that little white worm of yours.”
Other t
han a momentary flair in his red-violet eyes, Nikola shows no other signs of provocation. He simply nods and steps off the stairs, heading to the bar.
Instead of embarking up the stairs as I anticipate, Andri walks us down a hallway next to the staircase. From one of the two doors on my left a chilling breeze glides over my skin from the closed door.
“What’s in here? It’s so cold!” I ask, but I already know based on the familiar vibrating hums emitting from behind the door. The recognizable mundane sound gives me some comfort. There must be huge servers and computers in that room.
“Oh, it’s just the Surveillance Room. My advisors insist on tight security in all of my houses,” he says, pointing up to all the cameras scattered through the house. “Some you can see, some you can’t. It’s all very secret spy,” he teases with an eyebrow wiggle. “Come, I want to show you my library. I’m quite proud of it!”
That’s a new one, Marvy says.
“Bryson tells me you are quite the scholar. I was not given much opportunity in my younger days, but I read whatever I can get my hands on now. In my collegiate days, you could always find me in the Uni library.”
When Andrijica opens the two massive double oak doors, the smell of books lining the walls in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves overwhelm me. I love books too, so this is fascinating that the head of the KK would have time to be such a bibliophile. There are many extremely old books, most in Croatian, but he has all the American classics as well. He has them separated by genre. Non-Fiction, Biographies, and Historical Documentaries fill the left side of the library. Fiction, Mysteries, Science Fiction, and even a few classic Romantics are opposite. His collection is one of the most extensive I’ve seen outside an actual library.
“If you see any you like, you may borrow them,” he proudly boasts watching me explore the mini-repository, reading some of the titles.
I turn in bewilderment to face him. “You are not what I expected, no offense.”
“I know,” he laughs. “No offense taken. I have an earned reputation, not one someone like you would consort with. There are many things people do not expect of me; they think I’m a deplorable, vicious brute. An unsavory person and head of the largest crime family here in the Baltics. They are not wrong, but that is business, this is my guilty pleasure. My calling, if you will.”
“Andri, do mind if I call you Andri?”
He laughs, “Please do. From you, I actually prefer it.”
Completely perplexed by this man, the bold in me cannot be suppressed. “Andri, why do you do it? A man who would have this vast, auspicious library cannot be ignorant to the cruelties of human trafficking. The man that built this library,” gesturing all around me, “is educated with a depth of emotion,” I astonish, sliding my finger along the spines of the books.
Andrijica’s expression becomes somber. “The trafficking activities, the prostitution, and the other nefarious dealings were my cousin Supak’s Frankensteins. He took over after my father’s death. My father was very much like him, a cruel and despicable man. He became more vicious when my little brother was murdered playing football in the street, perverting and twisting every facet of the business. I feel no sorrow for either of their passing. At least I am fairly sure Supak is dead as I have not heard from him in weeks. Before his disappearance, I was a figure-head and did not have any dealings with that side of the business. With him gone,” he sighs forlorn, “I do not have a choice and must assume my role.”
“But you do have a choice. Don’t you see? You were already part of it. Your lack of action was your compliance, therefore your consent. ‘When a man denies himself the right to live the life he believes in, he has no choice but to become an outlaw.’”
Impressed, he smiles. “Although you are quoting Mandela incorrectly, I understand your meaning. However, I was born into this life—into this responsibility and obligation.”
“The snake which cannot cast its skin has to die. As well the minds which are prevented from changing their opinions; they cease to be mind,” I say thoughtfully.
He chuckles, “Yes, but Nietzsche did not have my family.”
I have absolutely no idea where these quotes are coming from. I studied Descartes in Philosophy 202. Somehow I don’t think an in-depth discussion in analytical geometry is going to come up. Maybe I can seduce him with a tête-à-tête about dualism. That’s always a fun party debate—the infinite power of mind over body. I think, therefore I am. Bring on that conversation!
Leafing through a book about post-modern western culture, I speak without looking at him. “Andri, with Supak gone, you have the opportunity to change all of that. Do you want your children to know you as you are today; the creator of death and destruction; a minion of the Grim Reaper; an enslaver?”
Andrijica is closer than I’m comfortable with, but I allow the proximity. “Marvy, if not me, then someone else will; someone more like my father.”
The torture of his battling conflicts nooses around his words. The walls of his birthright enclose him, but it all boils down to choice.
“Our world is at the crossroads. We have a choice, right and wrong.”
Andri furrows his brow and looks to the ceiling. “Benjamin Franklin?”
“LL Cool J.”
We both bark laughter. It was the only quote about choice I could think of. “But seriously Andri, you may not think it, but you do have a choice to be better than your father and the legacy he left you. One spark can change the world.”
Tilting his head to look into my eyes, his fingers move up my arm. “Are you that spark?”
From a door hidden in the corner, I hear a slow, quiet click. I grab Andri, pulling him into an intimate embrace. “You must go! Nikola is coming to kill you,” I whisper to him. “I’m sorry, I’m just trying to get home.”
He is startled with my unexpected contact and confession. Andrijica is even more stunned when I press my lips to his. The kiss surprises me too, but I know it’s a deception instigated by Marvy. I’m supposed to be seducing him after all. My body shakes with fear, his from pleasure. I hear the door open and someone enters the room.
“Well done my dear! I knew I could count on his insatiable appetite for your type.” Nikola steps out from the shadowed doorway. He has his hands relaxed in front of him, a gun with a suppressor in one hand, and casually strides toward them.
Nice HK! I hear Valeria’s admiration over the firearm. It’s almost a yearning. I swallow Valeria’s drool over the handgun. I don’t give a shit what kind of gun it is, nor do I have time for her armory awe.
Taking slow steps to the side, I move away from Andri with Nikola only a few feet away. Two ballistic cracks break the tension as I turn to run for the library’s double doors. Another sonic boom echos as a horrible sizzle of a bullet’s path blazes across my shoulder spinning me to the floor. Andrijica dissolves to the floor a few feet away. The high pitched siren stings my ears and my back becomes warm with the seeping wetness of thick blood. Searing pain and panic flood when I look back to see Nikola pointing the gun in my direction, intending to end me.
Crouching to match my line of vision, he cocks his head, catching my eyes. “He may have been an idiot, but Pavao was my step-brother.”
The barrel of the gun to my head is so close I can read the HK USP .45 CT engraved in the barrel. My breath catches in my throat with the adrenaline pumping through fiercely. Lying on my immobile shoulder, I cradle my right arm close. I can smell Nikola’s rancid breath spilling over me as he delights in my terror.
Red hot hatred races from my heart through every muscle in my body. My arm hooks up striking him in the temple, rocking him to the side, but he pops right back up to his knees.
My head whips around when a pounding rattles the double doors. Moments seem to go in slow-motion as Hennessey bursts through into the room, gun wielding and ready to fire. He tears toward Nikola, tackling him before the pale man can raise his firearm still aimed at my head. Another subsonic shot squeezes off missing me by mere
inches. Pieces of the Macassar Ebony wood flooring fly into my face, slicing gashes and cutting close to my eye. I try to push up, but my back feels like a scalding white-hot branding iron is laying on my shoulder. Fire crackles my skin and ignites my muscles. My uselessness to help Hennessey fuel my anger as I fall back to the floor. I clench my jaw completely frustrated. From this angle, I spot my clutch lying under the coffee table in front of the leather couch. I release a growl with another attempt to get up.
My eyes flash and my upper lip curls into a snarl. Valeria’s fervor contorts the expression. My nose flares with harsh breath watching Nikola get the upper hand. Although Hennessey is on top of him, Nikola almost has his gun up to Hennessey’s head. I spider-crawl over to my clutch and pull the .22 from it.
Graceful as I’ve never been, I sling myself over Hennessey’s back, rolling over him. I hit the floor, unfurling my arm, and squeeze the trigger an inch between alarmed eyes. A shimmying pleasure weaves through me seeing Nikola’s disbelief, knowing my face will be the last he’ll ever see.
Hammer back,
Breath held,
Squeeze,
Boom.
An dat’s how wez does it! I hear Valeria jeer.
Hennessey rolls off Nikola. “Holy shit! Where’d that come from?”
“Ph–shaw! Ain’t notin’ but da real thin, baby!” I hoot in Valeria’s bastardized English as he helps me to my feet. I stumble a bit, which begs the question: blood loss or shift?
Naw, bitches. I tell them, dominating my senses. You’re on lock down.
Mind over body.
I think, therefore I am.
I am Tristiana Brigida Dividir.
HENNESSEY GENTLY MOVES the chiffon off my shoulder exposing the wound. “You’ve been shot.”
“You are a genius. I’m all right, just grazed a bit.” The words loll from my slack mouth.
Pieces Of One, Part 2 (The Dark Life Collection) Page 17