by Alexa Davis
After Max pronounced the showroom ready for our big opening the next day, I nodded, grabbed my bag and headed for the door.
"Hey, Lexi, you're welcome to have my driver take you home," he said in a voice that told me he was sorry I was having a rough time.
"Thanks," I said over my shoulder. "But today, I think I'd rather walk home. I'll see you in the morning. Bright and early."
With that, I walked out the door and headed for home, cursing Josh every step of the way.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Max
After Lexi left for the day, I walked to the window and looked out onto Wabash. The traffic was bumper to bumper as people rushed to get out of town and back to the suburbs. I shook my head and wondered how anyone could live away from the city. Lost in thought, I walked over to the set of display cabinets and straightened a few pieces.
Working with Lexi put me on edge. The closer I got to her, the more I wanted to reach out and touch her soft skin. I tried to imagine her out of the clinging dress and found myself breathing heavily as I imagined releasing her generous breasts from the confines of her bra and bending down to run my tongue over her nipples. I closed my eyes and imagined how she would look spread out on my bed, looking up at me with her amber eyes, her hair spread out across the pillows as I-
"Hey, zhopa!" Kristov yelled as he entered the store and pushed aside my very vivid fantasy. He smelled of whisky and cigars, and I knew from the moment he opened his mouth that he was high on something. "What's happening, bratik?"
"Don't call me that; you know I hate it," I said in a cool voice.
"Aw, c'mon, your big brother travels all the way across town to celebrate the opening of your store and you're going to insult him?" Kristov pouted as he walked around the showroom checking out the displays. "This is some nice stuff you've got here, Maksim."
"Don't even think about it, Kristov," I warned.
"Think about what?" he asked with feigned look of innocence.
"I don't know, staging a robbery or a fire or whatever you do when you want to get insurance money instead of earning some cash," I said. I knew I was being unfair, but I also knew that he'd been sent to collect me and bring me back into the fold and that if I didn't set my limits now, I'd be a goner. He had a way of convincing people to do whatever it was he wanted them to do, and my whole life, I'd been his obedient and worshipping little brother – but not anymore.
"Oh, Max, now that's a low blow to your older brother who has done nothing but look out for you his whole life," he said as he stuck out his lip. "I'm just here to celebrate your success!"
"Bullshit. Papa sent you and you're here pull me in and take me back to Ursus, where I'll help you run the West Side business," I said matter-of-factly. "I'm not falling for this, Kristov. Papa gave me three months to make this work, and I'm going to do everything I can to make that happen."
"So, little brother has grown a spine, I see," he nodded approvingly. "You want to prove yourself. You want to make your own way. How noble of you. How very fucking noble, bratik."
He moved across the sales floor until he was standing less than a foot in front of me. Kristov had the solid, strong body of our father, whereas I had inherited our mother's long, lean looks. He was more brutal and less forgiving, and he carried no guilt about anything he'd done or would be willing to do to defend the family business. Sometimes, I wondered how it was that two brothers could be so different and yet so connected. Kristov had been the one who'd broken the news to me about Mama, and he'd been the one who had taken care of the arrangements for her. He'd never once cried in my presence, even when I broke down and sobbed like a child.
Kristov was the strong one. He was vory v zakone to the core, but he didn't have the ability to finesse situations. Instead, my brother moved in like a bull in a china shop and did whatever was necessary to get what he wanted or needed. I could see why Papa wanted us to be a team. I had no inclination to be like Kristov, and he had no desire to be like me.
"You need to settle this business and come home," he said in tone that bordered on menacing. "Papa needs you. We need you. This war is getting out of hand and we need someone who is smart enough to figure out how to get the young ones in line. I'm not it, Max. I know it. I'm the muscle. You're the brains."
"I don't want to live that life, Kristov," I said as I looked at my brother closely. He was in his mid-thirties and he looked much older. His nose was crooked from taking one to many punches, and he had a long scar running along the right side of his face where a drunken bratán had sliced his skin during a bar fight. He looked tired. "I don't want to live in the back room of the bar and I definitely don't want to die in the streets. I want out. I want a normal life away from all of the violence and the hiding. Don't you want that, too?"
"I want to do what is necessary for the family, Max," he said wearily as he rubbed his forehead with a large callused hand in a way that reminded me of my father. "I just want to do what I'm supposed to do and be a captain. I don't want to go to prison, and I won't ever kneel for anyone." He pulled the leg of his pants up and showed me the star that had recently been tattooed on his knee.
"You got your stars, Kristov," I said trying to sound happy for him. "That's a huge honor. Did you get all of them?"
"No, that's the thing," he said looking at me. "I won't get all of my stars until you get yours."
"He's holding back your stars until you bring me home?" I said, aghast with the realization of what this meant. Getting stars meant you were a true vory v zakone. It meant that you were a captain who commanded the men under you. When stars were tattooed on the knees, it meant that the man being tattooed was his own man, that he would never kneel for anyone. But stars had to be given by the head of the organization — in this case, Papa.
"Yep, that's exactly what he's doing," my brother said. "He's holding me hostage until I can get you back in the fold."
"Fuck!" I shouted as I slammed my hand down on the display case. Everything inside tipped over and jewelry spilled everywhere. "That's not right! He can't do that to you! He can't do that to me!"
"He can do whatever he wants, bratik," he said, shaking his head slowly. "He's the boss."
I stood staring out the front window with my fists clenched by my sides as I thought about how my father's promise to let me see if this business could be a success had been a lie designed to placate me when he knew that he was going to blackmail me back into the fold. I felt he rage boiling up under the surface.
"Don't, Max," my brother said as he gripped my shoulder. "Just don't."
I looked at my brother helplessly and realized that his life now depended on me, and the decisions I would make. My father was ruthless when it came to protecting the business and we were just the price he would pay to take care of things. I reached out and gripped Kristov's shoulders and looked him in the eye as I said, "I won't allow this to happen."
"You may not have a choice," he replied with a grin that chilled my heart.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lexi
Instead of going home, I walked over to Peter's office. His receptionist said he was in a meeting, but told me he'd be done shortly, so I sat down and waited for him to finish. The phone call from Josh had opened a wound that was still way too fresh and I felt the anger begin to surface as I thought about him. He'd dumped me and then called to ask for my help! What nerve!
"Ms. Wallace? Mr. Baxter will see you now," the receptionist said, pulling me out of my rumination.
"What? Oh, thank you." I got up and headed down the hall to Peter's office.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite star!" Peter smiled as I entered the room.
"Yeah, I bet you say that to all the actors on your roster," I grinned. "But thanks for making me feel special."
"I do try to make everyone feel good, but not everyone is a star," he laughed. "Come in and sit down; what's going on? How's the job going?"
"It's good. I like Max, he's a nice guy," I said trying to
keep everything on a professional level. "The store is beautiful and the things he's imported are exquisite. I think he'll be able to find someone in no time, but it's nice to be helping out while he looks."
"Great review, now tell me what's really going on," Peter said as he reached under his desk and pulled out what was probably his tenth diet soda of the day. On an average day, he'd go through a case of it. I wondered if the chemicals were what kept him looking so young at fifty.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, now tell me what's really going on," he repeated popping the top on the can and drinking deeply. When he finished, he set the can down and gestured at it. "Want one?"
"No, I'm good, thanks," I shook my head. "Peter, everything is a mess. Josh called me at work and asked for money, and I lost my cool."
"In front of the Malinchenko guy?" he asked.
"Who?"
"Max, your boss," he said as he looked at a stack of papers on his desk and began tossing sheets in the trash. "Did you lose your cool in front of him?"
"I guess so, but I was quiet about it," I said. "Wait, I thought his last name was Malin."
"Ah, so he took my advice," Peter nodded. "Look, kid, that little piece of crap McLean is a nobody. Don't waste your time crying over him. He's a third rate actor who is going to get nothing but crowd-filler parts. You're the professional. You've got skills and a chance to do something big."
"He's not a third rate actor, he's got a pilot in LA!" I cried. "He dumped me to move there for a sitcom!"
"Kid, you are far too gullible," Peter said as he stopped sorting papers and looked at me. "That guy doesn't have a part in a sitcom. I talked to his agent two days ago, and he said that he had told McLean that if he wanted real work, he was going to have to get to a big city."
"You meant he didn't have a job?" I said. I was stunned that Josh had not only lied to me, but that he then had the nerve to keep the lie going. How blind was I to believe him?
"Nope, nothing," Peter answered. "Now you, you are a different matter. Are you ready for your audition this weekend?"
"I've been running my lines with Viv and I think I'm ready," I said. Peter loved Viv and was always trying to get her to consider a career in acting, but she didn't have the patience for all of the auditions, so she kept turning him down.
"You've really got a shot at this one, kid," he said. "I'm not kidding, this part is one of the big ones and I think that if you can land it, you'll get the attention you deserve. Plus, it's a six-month run at top pay!"
"Yeah, and you get ten percent of it, don't remind me," I said with a grim smile.
"C'mon, isn't this all worth it?" he said spreading his arms wide and looking around the small office. "I mean, we have a classy operation going here!"
"You're too much!" I burst out laughing as he leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "But yes, you are definitely worth it."
"All right then, you get out there and nail that part, kid!" he smiled. "I have faith in you!"
I left Peter's office feeling better about my chances of landing the role in the play, but worse about what had happened with Josh. I walked home, and by the time I opened my front door, I had put the drama of Josh McLean behind me and was looking forward to my audition.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Max
My brother's visit to the store left me feeling enraged by my father's empty promise, and I needed an outlet for my anger. I had my driver take me home, where I quickly changed into shorts, a t-shirt, and my favorite running shoes, and headed out to the lake for a long run. I thought about all of the ways in which my father had lied to us over the years as my feet pounded the pavement.
Usually, running was my outlet for frustration, but this time, the farther I ran, the angrier I felt. I felt betrayed and foolish that I'd trusted my father to be true to his word. I should have seen the deception and I beat myself up for not having thought of all the angles before I'd gone to see him. I felt abandoned, and more than anything, I missed my mother. She had always been the one who had reminded me of the good things about my father, and she'd been the one to soothe hurt feelings on both sides of any disagreement. She loved us all so much, and right now, I wished she were there to help find a way to stop my father from forcing me to do something I didn't want to do.
"Damn him!" I muttered as I opened the front door to my apartment.
"What did you say, darling?" Natalia said, emerging from the kitchen carrying two glasses of red wine and wearing an outfit that was definitely designed to attract attention.
"What are you doing here?" I said. I was irritated that she'd let herself in without calling first, but I'd given her a set of keys, so I had no one to blame but myself.
"I'm here to help you, Max," she purred as she set the wine down on the table in the entry and moved toward me. She was wearing a form-fitting black blouse that emphasized her large breasts, a short, black leather skirt that looked like she'd been sewn into it, and a pair of black suede boots that stopped just below the skirt's hem to give a glimpse of the lacy tops of her thigh-high stockings and the garters that held them up.
"You look like a walking felony," I said as I tossed my keys on the table next to the wine and walked toward the bedroom.
"Thank you, I think," she laughed as she followed me. "What's wrong with you, Max? Why are you so uptight?"
"I've got a lot on my mind, Nat," I said as I pulled off my t-shirt and shorts and prepared to step into the shower.
"My God, you are an exquisite man," she said as she leaned against the doorway and watched me undress. "I can never get enough of that body of yours."
"Good to know," I said tersely. "Mind if I take a shower now or do you need to ogle me a bit more?"
"Oh, I'd like to do much more than just ogle you, Max," she grinned as she walked across the room. I felt myself becoming hard as I watched her hips sway as she walked. She was undeniably sexy, and without the cover of clothing, I couldn't hide my response. She looked straight at me as she dropped her voice, "You like what you see, do you?"
I said nothing; I , simply dropped the clothing I'd been holding and reached out to roughly grab her so I could pull her against me. She let out a throaty laugh as I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against me. I grabbed a fistful of her shiny, black hair and pulled her head back before grinding my lips against hers in a brutal kiss. She responded by reaching around and digging her nails into my back and running them all the way down the length of my body.
I growled as my hands groped her body to find the hem of her blouse and yanked it up over her head. I dug a hand into the lacy fabric of her bra and pulled out one of her breasts before lowering my head and sucking hard on the already engorged nipple. She moaned and grabbed two fistfuls of my hair, pulling hard as we battled for control of each other's bodies. I could feel her need as I yanked her skirt up and pushed my hand between her legs, and as she groaned, I pushed her panties to the side and shoved her back against the wall. I gripped her waist and quickly lifted her up onto the dresser before roughly spreading her legs and plunging into her warm, wet opening.
She moaned as I entered her and then pushed her hips forward to meet my thrusts, digging her nails into my shoulders. I held her waist and rammed myself into her over and over again as she groaned and urged me to do it harder and faster. I felt myself lose control as I took out all my anger, rage, and pain on her body. She cried out for more as I thrust into her more violently, seeking relief from the feelings that were threatening to pull me under.
I could feel myself getting close to the edge, and I tried to hold back long enough for her to reach the peak first, but I was too far-gone and in an instant, I felt myself letting go and falling over the edge. I could feel myself releasing inside her as I remained buried in her warmth. A wave of heat passed through my body as I jerked and throbbed. I could hear her moaning softy as she ran her hands down the length of my back and pressed her cheek against my shoulder.
"
Wow, that was some run you must have had," she laughed softly when both of us were breathing normally again.
"Are you okay?" I asked as I rested my head on her shoulder and breathed deeply.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, patting my head. "The question is whether you are okay or not."
"I'm good," I nodded.
"Then, let me get off of this dresser. My ass is getting cold on this glass top," she said, lightly smacking my shoulder.
"Oh, sorry. Here, let me help you." I stepped back and helped her down off of her perch.
"Are you sure you're okay, Max?" she asked, looking at me with a great deal of concern. "That was pretty intense."
"I'm okay, Nat," I nodded. "I've just got a lot on my mind with the store opening tomorrow and my family stuff."
"Was your dad responsible for that shooting?" she asked as she located her blouse and pulled it on.
That was the thing I loved about Natalia. She understood my family situation because hers was very similar. Her father had defected and moved the family to Chicago around the same time my father had moved us here. When I was with Nat, there was a lot I didn't have to say. She understood the vory v zakone and she was just as wary of it as I was, only as a woman, she was expected to marry one of the bratán, whether she wanted to or not. Us getting together solved a host of problems for both of us, and the friendship had lasted because we both knew that we didn't want to get sucked into the thieving life.
At one point, when it looked like she was going to have to marry a guy who was a high ranking captain in her father's gang, I asked her to marry me. She turned me down, saying that she knew I loved her, but that we weren't like that and to pretend that we were was a lie she just couldn't live with. Soon after, she convinced her father that she wasn't cut out for marrying anyone and went off to college. By the time she returned, her father had been killed in a dispute over a shipment that hadn't contained what was promised. She mourned the loss of her father, but was glad to be freed from his iron rule.