Disgraced (Amado Brothers)
Page 7
Men talked, women giggled, drinks flowed, countless empty bottles of champagne stacked up in the kitchen. Then the groups started to form, small cliques holding private court in various alcoves or not so private ones in plain sight.
I wondered where Alexi hired his whores. Beautiful men and women to service all of his guests needs, however perverse. Soon, conversation muted to the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, of moans of pain and of ecstasy. I tried to see only the marble floor before me, but felt people watching me at every turn. I searched for Alexi’s icy gaze, knowing he reveled in my humiliation, but couldn’t find him.
At a little after one in the morning, a gong sounded.
Everyone stopped. Someone clapped. Another cheered. The servers set their trays aside and lined up against one wall. I guessed they’d been given instruction to do so. I had not, but I followed them to it, taking a spot at the end of the line. Glancing at them, I saw how they’d not only lowered their gazes but bowed their heads. Clearly we were not supposed to watch whatever was coming next.
Men dressed in black poured in from two side doors and arranged chairs all facing the gong. People took their seats, looking more like vultures than ladies and gentlemen. The men in black disappeared, and now that everyone was seated, I had a clear view of what was happening.
The gong sounded once more, and quiet fell over the crowd.
I knew it was Alexi who walked to the center of the space from the way he moved. He wore black and had on a skull mask. I hadn’t seen that one tonight but recognized the gold ring I’d noticed on a man earlier. It wasn’t one he’d ever worn before, so I hadn’t realized it was him. He must have swapped out the mask he’d worn earlier for this Grim Reaper’s mask.
“Welcome, dear, honored guests.”
He took a bow and switched to Russian then. I couldn’t follow the speech but realized most of his guests did with the way they responded to him. At one point, the crowd erupted in hungry cheers. That was when Alexi stepped aside, and a door opened. A woman was led out by a man in black. He was also masked. She was dressed in an elegant black evening gown, her hair and makeup impeccable. The glance she gave Alexi was all that betrayed her trepidation.
Alexi switched to English, whether for the woman’s benefit or not, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t want to think he did it to make sure I understood. Not given what followed.
“Nadia has agreed to the restitution I have laid out. She begs your forgiveness and is willing to take the punishment necessary to earn back your trust.”
The crowd booed.
Alexi raised his hand to silence them.
“Nadia, show them how…repentant…you are.”
Nadia glanced at him, then at the group. Her lip quivered as she reached to unzip her dress and let it drop to pool around her ankles. She wore nothing underneath. The hunger of the audience was almost palpable in their quiet as Nadia stepped out of her shoes and stood naked and barefoot before them.
The man who had led her inside returned with another dressed exactly as he was.
Between them, they carried a padded bench with leather straps across it. They placed it before the room and left.
Nadia glanced at Alexi, who nodded. She then moved to bend herself over the bench facing the guests, spreading her arms over the sides and her legs wide, holding her head up so they could see her face.
“Supplication is a beautiful thing, is it not?”
The crowd began to chatter.
“What say you? Five strokes to warm her before she’s…opened up, so to speak.”
As he spoke, he moved to secure the straps over Nadia, one at her lower back, the other just beneath her shoulder blades, as two men worked to bind both ankles and wrists. All this while the audience called out yeas and nays. What the hell was about to happen? Why was he strapping her down, and what had this poor woman done? Was this some sort of game? Why would anyone allow themselves to be treated like this?
“Now, now. You’ll all get your turn. Let’s not act like barbarians, shall we?”
I watched from beneath my lashes as one of the masked men stepped forward, holding out a long, thin leather strap.
Nadia looked up, tears on her cheeks as Alexi took the strap extended to him and circled her.
This was why he’d wanted me here tonight. Leslie hadn’t gotten sick. He wanted me to see this. He hoped, no, he expected, me to acquiesce to something like this? To allow him to punish me like this to release me from my debt?
In the next moment, my gaze found Alexi’s. He stared right at me, as if he were waiting for me to watch.
“Fine. Fine. Ten strokes it is then, and Nadia’s body is yours to use for the rest of the evening. I personally can’t wait.” He raised his arm and, keeping his eyes locked on mine, he struck so hard, I jumped as Nadia let out a scream.
Alexi pulled his mask off his head and tossed it aside. His hair stood on end as he set his face and took aim before striking again, his lips tight with the ferocity.
Nadia let out another cry. The audience watched in silence. I wondered if beneath their masks, they all wore smiles.
Undeterred by her cries, Alexi delivered the rest of the ten then set the strap down on her back and smiled at the guests, sparing me one quick glance.
My heart raced.
He gestured for a man to open the door. He did, and a naked woman was led out on her hands and knees. Another woman, also naked, led her toward Alexi. There, she handed him the leash.
“Ah.”
Alexi circled the woman, who remained on her hands and knees. He mentioned her name and had her stand to discuss various aspects of her anatomy. He then had her turn and bend over to the immense pleasure of the crowd. Once he handed the leash back to the woman who’d led her in, he began the bidding. It was an auction. This was what he wanted from me.
The bidding began. The winner paid more than ten thousand dollars for the woman. I watched, shocked, as the woman was led to kneel along the wall and another one was brought in.
Altogether ten women and eight men were auctioned off for the night. I couldn’t keep track of the amount of money that would exchange hands by the time the bidding was over and the real party began.
As the servers went to fill their trays with champagne, I followed, but Alexi called my name from behind. I stopped. I didn’t turn around, not yet.
“Lovely, isn’t she?” he said. “Come here Kat.”
I turned to find him talking with a couple. They’d taken their masks off, and they watched me with hungry eyes.
“We noticed you right away,” the man said.
I glanced at Alexi, not sure what was going on.
Alexi’s gaze examined me slowly, pausing at my nipples tight beneath the dry gold paint. “Gold is your color,” he said.
“I’d like to place a bid,” the woman said.
My mouth fell open, and, panicked, I turned to Alexi.
He smiled.
“Not tonight, I’m afraid. Kat’s…not quite ready for us, are you, Kat?”
I didn’t answer.
“Soon though, I think. Very soon, I’m sure, in fact,” he said. They moved away, dismissing me.
I stood watching them for a moment, then turned my gaze around the room. The sounds, the sights, the smells: sex permeated the space, every act—depraved or not—played out before my eyes, and the woman, Nadia, still cried out as guests lined up to strap her. I took a step backward then turned, trying to block the noise. I went into the kitchen and stood in line to pick up a tray, looking at the clock. Two hours to go. Two more hours before I could leave this place, wash this stuff off me, try to forget the night. Forget what Alexi had said. No, promised. I had to find some way out of this. Alexi was playing with me, and I knew that soon, he’d take what he thought he was owed. Soon, he wouldn’t wait for my permission.
“Block it out,” someone said beside me.
It was one of the servers. She smiled and loaded her tray with glasses.
“You�
�re new to the party, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Just block it out. Think of the money. Easiest grand you’ll ever earn.”
“How do you do it?”
“Well, I don’t have Alexi Markov watching me like a hawk.” She winked. “He likes you.”
We picked up our trays. “No, he thinks he has some right to me.”
“Alexi Markov always gets what he wants. It’s not like he’s bad to look at. I’d do him.” She chewed her gum, which she hid well because we weren’t allowed gum, and walked to the exit. “But if you’re dead set not to, keep a very low profile.”
She walked out into the party room. I set my tray down, feeling sick to my stomach, and made my way to the bathroom, where I locked myself in, trying to block out the noises of the party. I had to find a solution to this. I had to find some way to get Alexi off my back for good. I couldn’t run or hide. I’d tried that once, and he’d found me within twenty-four hours. Besides, I didn’t have the means to do it. He made sure of that. And there was more than my safety to think about. There was Sofia. Her babies. He’d mentioned them more than once. And this was not about a fuck. He wanted more than that. I’d become some sort of obsession for him.
Someone knocked on the door. “Just a minute.”
They left. I looked at my face in the mirror, feeling like I couldn’t breathe, when I heard Nadia cry out again. God, they weren’t finished with her yet. I pulled at my hair. I had to get out of here. I couldn’t be here one more minute.
I scrubbed furiously at the paint on my face and got dressed. I walked out of the bathroom and left the building as quickly as I could.
Snow had begun, the blizzard they’d predicted now a reality. I ran from there, stopping at the all-night liquor store a block from the subway station and buying a bottle of cheap whiskey. I wanted to be obliterated tonight. I needed to be out of my head.
I ran fast, habit somehow carrying me to the subway where I boarded my train, where, without being able to get the image of the Alexi’s victorious grin out of my head, I got off at the right stop. I needed to get to the apartment before I lost it, lock myself in, even if I knew how pointless that was. I wanted to submerge myself in water so hot, it would melt the gold paint off my body. Burn the images out of my mind.
Alexi liked fucking with my head. He knew tonight would terrify me. The conversation with that couple? I had no doubt he’d set that up. He wanted me unhinged, scared as fuck. Well, I was. And I also had no doubt he’d be back soon to make good on his promise.
There was only one person who could help me. Sergei. But would he help me over his son? And if he didn’t, and Alexi found out I’d gone to him? What then?
Underneath all this insanity, the image of Damon that night, his eyes, his face, the feel of him holding me, his arms around me—I wanted to lose myself in that memory. I wanted to let myself—for one fucking second—feel safe. Feel like I had some control of my life. Feel like I could breathe. But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t think of him. I couldn’t think of him ever again.
6
Damon
Lina didn’t come back to her apartment until late the following night. Later than her usual shift at the club by several hours. She didn’t see me when she turned the corner. For one thing, the streetlamp was busted so it was pitch-black. For another, she expected me to be in Florida, so she had no reason to look for me. But I hadn’t gone to Florida, not after that second text of hers telling me she’d taken money out of my wallet. Instead, I’d been standing here, freezing my ass off, waiting for her as snow fell.
I didn’t care about the money. I just didn’t like that she hadn’t even had enough for a taxi to get home.
When I’d looked through the kitchen cabinets at her apartment, they’d been empty. In her refrigerator, she had water and eggs. She told me she ate at the club and made the excuse of not liking to cook, but there wasn’t a single takeout container in the place. I wasn’t sure I believed her, and I didn’t like it. She couldn’t weigh more than one hundred pounds. She was in some sort of trouble. I now had no doubt of that.
Lying about school had been one thing. I believed she needed space and time to heal after what happened with her grandfather, with the loss of everything. She probably blamed herself for turning over evidence. The innocent always suffered more than the guilty.
I needed to figure out what kind of trouble she was in.
As her steps neared the house, I stood. A motion detector lit up the space. Lina stopped, clutched her chest, and stumbled backward, as if she’d turn and run. I took a step forward, so she’d see my face.
She’d been crying. I could see it in her red, puffy eyes. She covered her face with her hands and rubbed before facing me.
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Florida.”
“I postponed my trip.”
She shook her head, as if having some discussion in her head, and walked up the stairs, brushed past me, and slid the key into the lock. I didn’t miss how her fingers trembled.
“Are you okay?”
She pushed the door open a little but stopped, dropping her head. “I don’t want to see you, Damon. I told you—”
“What kind of trouble are you in, Lina?”
She glanced at me, and I noticed a smear of gold across her cheek. Makeup?
“I have to go,” she said, opening the door and stepping inside. “Just respect my wish and leave me alone.”
I smelled liquor on her breath.
“Answer my question first.”
She stood with her back to me, but I held the door and wouldn’t let it go.
“I am so tired, you have no idea.” Her voice broke.
“Are you drunk?”
“Not enough liquor in the world.”
I turned her to face me. Tears wet the skin around eyes that were shadowed and dark. Like she hadn’t slept in a long time. I saw more of that strange gold on a strand of hair that had fallen free of her hat. Reaching my hand up, I went to pull it off.
She placed hers over the top of mine. “Don’t.”
Ignoring her, I slowly drew the hat off. She didn’t even fight me. Her hair was painted gold. Not only that, her neck too, and the backs of her hands.
“What the hell is this?”
She stared up at me, unwilling or unable to answer. But I didn’t need her to answer. I could guess.
“Please go away.”
“No. You’re in some sort of trouble and it’s bad and I’m not walking away.”
Her lip trembled, and her face fell, her eyes pools of water. She clutched the collar of my coat and pressed her forehead into my chest. A sob rocked her body.
I looked down at the top of her head, at her hair matted with gold paint, and I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me, smearing gold paint onto my coat as I held her. She cried for what felt like a long time, heavy weeping that made her tremble.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I said, taking the keys from her hand and leading her up.
She came without resisting, and when I opened the apartment door, she went inside. She didn’t wait for me but walked directly into the bedroom. I followed to watch her stripping off her coat, dropping it on the floor. Her sweater was next, then her jeans. She was naked underneath, and every inch of her, every inch apart from the tattoos, was covered in gold.
“What is this?” I asked, a rage beginning to boil inside me.
Without answering, Lina went into the bathroom, plugged the drain, and switched on water so hot, it steamed almost immediately. She stepped into the tub, flinching at the heat but forcing herself to stay. She lowered herself down. I stood in the doorway and watched her hug her knees as water filled the tub, a golden sea around her.
“Lina.” I took off my coat, pushed up my sleeves, and went to her.
She wouldn’t look at me. She kept her eyes closed. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as the water reached the tops of her arms.
“What happened t
onight?” I asked, adjusting the temperature. I pulled my sweater off and burned my arm when I reached down to unplug the drain and let the golden water wash away.
Her face wrinkled at my question, but she didn’t answer, didn’t move. She seemed unable to even lift her arms to wash herself. I picked up the soap and washcloth and began to scrub the paint from her back, shoulders, and arms, rubbing harder than I needed to, wanting it gone, needing it gone.
“What happened?” I asked again, not wanting to hear her answer, knowing already where she’d been.
I plugged the tub again once much of the gold had disappeared down the drain. When the water was deep enough, I took the cup on the edge of the tub and poured water over her head, then shampooed her hair, the gold sticky there. It took three shampoos before I got it out. Three times of emptying the tub and refilling it, the hot water running out. All the while, she just sat there, letting me.
Only when every speck of that paint was gone did I stop. I knelt beside the tub and looked at her sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees, eyes downcast, her face, blotchy from crying, flushed from the hot water. I took her chin in my hand and forced her to look at me.
“Did someone hurt you?” I asked, choking on the words.
She dragged her gaze to mine, confused for a moment, then looked at me as if seeing me for the first time.
“Not yet.” She reached her arms up and wrapped them around my neck and closed her mouth over mine, kissing me, pulling me into her, her arms wet. It was as though she couldn’t get close enough. As though she’d burrow right under my skin. Disappear there.
I took her wrists and drew them off. She looked at me with hurt in her eyes. But right now, I wanted answers. I needed them.