Partners

by D B Steward

  To these people, the Russians, everything they did was all about sending a message. Getting attention. Creating drama. That kind of behavior might have played well over there in Russia, he thought, but that was not how you did business over here in the United States. You kept your head down and you minded your own business, that was how you made money here. That was how you got people to respect you. The Russians did not care about that kind of respect though—they just wanted people to fear them.

  The whole thing made the Don sick to his stomach. He sipped his espresso and saw the shiny new black Lincoln Continental pull up outside through the coffee shop windows. the Don looked to Tony who was standing at the front entrance and nodded. Tony signaled to the other three men inside the otherwise empty shop and they stood at attention. Outside, two more of the Don’s men moved to either side of the front entrance as some of Popov’s people piled out of the Lincoln. One of the men opened the rear passenger-side door and Petrov Popov stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  Popov was dressed in a grey pinstriped wool Dunhill three-piece suit. Flashy and expensive looking, the Don thought. Popov’s dark grey alligator skin shoes probably cost more than the Don’s whole suit. Don Salvador struggled to hide his disgust at the over-the-top appearance of his business rival. It seemed that Popov and the rest of his family could not resist drawing attention to themselves. The Don sighed openly as he rose from his chair, but at least the father was not as bad as the son; he had seen the kind of obnoxiously extravagant clothing that Ivan would wear in photos.

  The Russian leader and two of his men entered the cafe while another stood outside near the black Lincoln. Popov walked toward Salvador with a tilted head and a bemused smirk on his face while the Don remained stoic. As the new arrival came to a stop at the table, both men faced each other from across the surface top of the inexpensive piece of restaurant furniture. For a moment, they held their gaze in silence. Finally, Popov tipped his head forward.

  “Don Salvador,” the Russian said with a grin but did not extend his hand in greeting.

  “Popov.” The Don reflected the gesture of disrespect and left his hands at his sides as well. “Please sit.” He spread his arms forward, indicating the empty chair directly across from him.

  Popov nodded but waited until Don Salvador began to sit before he did the same. “Call me Petrov.” Popov smiled and the Don could see that the other man’s smile did not extend to his eyes. Popov’s hair was as gray as his suit and he wore it slightly longer than a man of his age would normally. He had a trimmed salt and pepper beard and piercing blue eyes. The lines on his face made clear to the world the hardness of the man and the things he had been a part of. The Don knew of some of the things that Popov had done in Russia, terrible accounts of all kinds of horrors, and as he looked across at the man, he realized that he could see the cruelty written on the man’s face and the brutality in his eyes even without the knowledge of his past.

  “Of course,” the Don replied as he watched the man carefully. Popov had called for the meeting and Salvador was not about to initiate the conversation.

  “How is the family?” Popov said with another smile that indicated his indifference to the answer, whatever it may be.

  “They are well. My son is overseas at the moment.” Salvador had intentionally brought up his son as a signal to Popov, wanting to come to the main reason for the meeting. The momentary fire that flashed in the blue eyes across from him said that his message had been received and understood.

  “Yes, well, in the end, family is the only thing that remains after we die,” Popov said in a low tone. “As fathers, we can only teach our children. It is up to them to learn.”

  “This is true.” Salvador was going to make Popov get down to business; he would not be made to be the one to broach the subject first.

  Petrov Popov sat straighter in his chair and silently regarded the man in front of him. Petrov Popov personally did not like the man. He thought that while Don Salvador was soft and fearful of law enforcement, the Don was not a stupid man. Popov may have held the man’s devotion to his outdated traditions in contempt, but he knew Salvador was not someone to underestimate. He respected at least that much about him.

  “I trust you saw the news?” Popov queried the Don to which the other man nodded.

  “I did.”

  “She killed my men.” Popov’s voice dripped with anger and the Don furrowed his eyebrows in irritation. The coffee shop that they were meeting in was owned by him, therefore he knew it was secure. The small cafe was swept for surveillance devices weekly when he was not using it for meetings and then it would be checked again right before he began one. Popov could not have known that, however. The Russian had just openly discussed murder in his place of business; if someone had been listening in, it would have proven troublesome. Salvador was aware that he was constantly under the scrutiny of the law. He could not even spit on the sidewalk without the police or the Feds getting their shoes wet. He refused to give them anything to justify digging deeper into his business, and now this arrogant thug would have done just that if he was being monitored.

  “You lost some employees last night. Terrible. A business can’t be run properly when things like this happen.”

  Popov steamed. “Someone must have tipped her off. Told her that my men would be at

  her apartment.” He leveled the veiled accusation toward him and Salvador could feel his own body temperature rise.

  “No, no one would do such a thing. Most likely this person saw your employees waiting around their home.” He was attempting to keep his voice calm and he was succeeding, but his eyes betrayed his growing anger. How dare this man come into his own place of business and point his finger at him like this. “I recall a conversation where you were warned about the exceptional skills this person possessed and that you were counseled against hiring them in the first place.”

  “You said she was professional! The best in the business,” Popov said with a little sarcasm and a small grin. The Don could see that the man was not used to hiding his emotions and was starting to wrestle with his words, his accent getting thicker and his grammar sloppier.

  “If that conversation was had between us, I could imagine a scenario where I might say something like that,” he said carefully.

  Popov scoffed in disgust. “You talk like you are at trial. I don’t care who is hearing this.”

  His voice was growing louder and Salvador took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. This Russian just could not grasp that in the United States you did not behave like some gangster from an Edward G. Robinson movie from the thirties. Popov continued, “She was best assassin in world you said. She would do hit and be clean about it. She didn’t. Jefferson still alive and I have dead men!” He punctuated his statement by slamming his palm hard on the table.

  Don Salvador narrowed his eyes and took a sip from his espresso that had grown cold. He lifted the cup to his side and offered it up. Dutifully, Tony came up from behind him, taking the cup without being told. “Another cup, Tony.” He said it while never breaking eye contact with Popov. Tony made off with the cup and went behind the counter, refilling it, the gurgling of the hot brown liquid being poured into the small glass cup the only sound heard in the tension-filled cafe. The whole time his espresso was being prepared, Salvador placed his hands on the table and curled them into tight fists. Popov rolled his eyes and exhaled audibly. Finally, Tony returned and placed the steaming cup in front of the Don and stepped back. “Petrov, talking openly about things of this nature is just not done. Even among friends, someone might overhear something and mistakenly assume a conversation like that was serious.”

  Petrov leaned forward, no longer interested in playing this game. “I was told your woman would kill Jefferson and she didn’t. Instead, she kill my men! I paid a million dollars to her and job was not done!”

  “She does not work for me.” Salvador was going to be blunt because it was obvious that was the only language that th
is man comprehended. “She is a freelance contractor, not a member of my organization. I told you that when I recommended her to you.”

  “You put her to me.” Popov was barely able to make his English understandable now that he was so furious. “I’m out money and men and job still not done!”

  “That’s not my problem. I referred her, that’s all. I gave no assurances and I made no guarantees,” the Don said with deadly seriousness. “Whatever business you have is with her, not me.”

  Popov stood from his seat suddenly, making the Don’s men take a step forward, this quick action mirrored in turn by Popov’s men. “Ridiculous! If you will not make this right, I find her myself!” Without waiting for a response, he turned and stormed toward the front of the coffee shop. Before opening the door to the outside, he stopped and swung around to face the Don. “If I find her, I make guarantee to you. In repayment for my money and my men, I will make her suffer. She will take weeks to die. This is my guarantee,” he hissed with fury laced into his words. He jerked the door open and marched out with his men following behind him. The door shut and Salvador watched Popov get into the back of his car and drive away.

  Salvador finally released the breath he had not known he was holding and turned his head toward Tony. The other man stepped forward and stood behind the Don’s shoulder. “Tony, make sure everyone knows to steer clear of these people but to also make sure that his men don’t interfere with any of our operations.”

  “Yes, Don Salvador.” Tony nodded. He had wanted to pull his piece and shoot Popov in his smug face. He could only imagine how pissed off his boss was.

  “Also, find out from our friend how her search is going.” The Don sighed. “I want to find the woman before Popov does. I don’t want this savage getting his hands on her.”

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Kelly’s eyes sprang open and darted from left to right as she took in her surroundings. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! she thought as she began to remember the events of the last night. She was in Lori’s house. Lying on her back in Lori’s bed. To her right sleeping on her side and facing away from her, Lori. Fuck.

  She rose up until she was sitting, the sheet that was covering her fell to her waist and revealed her bare chest. “This is so bad. Shit,” she whispered under her breath, her conscience screaming at her in her mind. How could she allow this to happen? Why did she have sex with Lori? This was the worst possible thing that could happen. She pulled her knees up to her chest and lowered her head into her arms.

  Looking around the disaster area of Lori’s bedroom, her eyes frantically sought out her clothes. In her mind, she began to plot her escape. First, she had to silently extract herself from the bed without waking Lori. She rolled her eyes as she admonished herself again silently. This was a mistake of galactic proportions; she had nearly severed all ties with Lori after weeks of hard work trying to get out of the destructive codependent relationship they had entangled themselves into. She was almost free and now she had willingly jumped into the fire.

  Kelly first met Lori at a bar while she was in the early stages of a self-pitying drinking binge. Lori was on the prowl that night and looking to screw the first person available. Once she had found Kelly trying to drown her sorrows in bourbon, she fixed the woman into her sights and zeroed in on the target.

  Lori was hot, she was tall, and she had a tight body. She had platinum blonde hair and lusty green eyes. Her tank top was barely holding her C-cup breasts in and since she was not wearing a bra, Kelly could see the piercings of her nipples clearly. Kelly was hooked immediately—once she got a look at the golden-haired beauty, she was attracted to her like a moth to a flame. After a few drinks and some small talk, the liquid courage that was coursing through her bloodstream emboldened her to invite Lori back to her apartment. Once there, the two women attacked and stripped each other of the clothing that was annoyingly interfering with their carnal activities. What followed was over 24 hours of the most torrid and mind-blowing sex that Kelly had ever had. Lori was an absolute beast in bed and Kelly could barely keep up with the insatiable dynamo.

  After their explosive encounter, they became an exclusive couple and began an almost year-long relationship. A relationship that was plagued with arguments that nearly got physical on multiple occasions. Their time together was filled with torrid sex, tears, and binges of alcohol and cocaine. Lori was a train wreck and Kelly could not find a way to get off of the runaway locomotive. Lori went through jobs like water and was frequently unemployed, causing her to get evicted from apartment after apartment. Kelly had enabled her every time and allowed Lori to move in with her. This arrangement would usually last a week or so before they would get into another fight and Lori would move out only to repeat the cycle again and again.

  Kelly knew their relationship was destructive at the time and she just did not care. She was in the middle of her own downward spiral and at the time really felt like she and Lori deserved each other. Then Lori went and cheated on her. With a man! Kelly caught them fucking in her own bed and if she was legally allowed to own a gun, she would have shot the man. Instead, she had to be satisfied with just throwing him out of her place stark naked. She tossed his clothes out of their window and never found out if the man ever located them. That was the last straw. They had fought all night until finally a fed-up neighbor called the police and the cops showed up. They separated the two women, one officer standing guard near Kelly and the other supervising Lori as she grabbed some personal items and made sure that she left the apartment.

  The breakup had made Kelly feel emotionally numb for days. She ignored texts, phone calls, and door poundings from Lori, all begging her to take her back. After a while, Lori eventually got the hint and stopped coming around. The calls and texts never stopped but they did decrease in the frequency of their occurrence.

  Now Kelly had screwed it all up by sleeping with her again. She had to get out of there. Slowly, she slipped out from underneath the sheets, careful not to jostle the sleeping woman. She crept through the messy bedroom and grabbed her discarded clothes that seemed to be scattered to all four corners of the tiny room. On her tiptoes, she extricated herself from the room and softly closed the bedroom door behind her. She dressed herself like she was a firefighter who just got the call for a towering inferno, faster than the speed of light. And she almost made it to the door and freedom before she heard the bedroom door swing open.

  “You think you can just fuck me and leave?” she heard Lori bellow behind her and she recognized from the tone that Lori was starting to boil and if Kelly did not get out of there soon, there was going to be a battle. She sighed and turned around, still pulling her jeans up.

  “This should not have happened Lori and you know it.” Kelly spoke as if she was explaining to a child how harmful it was to stick a fork into a toaster.

  “All I know is that you came over here and fucked me, not the other way around! So don’t tell me what I know!” Lori was raising her voice and Kelly knew that she had just blown her chance to escape quietly.

  “I came here because I thought you were going to kill yourself, Lori.” She rubbed her

  forehead with her fingers. Kelly felt the deja vu of the whole situation; they had done this so many times before that she could not hazard a guess to the exact number. Right then, it felt like it was in the millions.

  Lori scoffed. “Over you? Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “Oh, you don’t remember texting me?” Kelly was beginning to raise her voice now and the rational portion of her brain was screaming for her to just walk away and get the hell out of there, but she was not listening to it at the moment. “You didn’t text me saying ‘I can’t live without you’? You don’t remember doing that, Lori?”

  Lori wrapped the bed sheet that was covering her naked body even tighter. “Why would I do that?” She waved her hand in dismissal and rolled her eyes.

  Kelly
could not believe her ears, which were now beginning to turn red as she got angrier. “Because you are fucking nuts, Lori! You are fucking crazy!” Just leave, the voice inside her was shouting. Walk out that door right now, Kelly! “I don’t know why I believed you anyway! I should know by now that you would never kill yourself. If you did, then you wouldn’t be around to get all the attention that you’re constantly begging for!”

  “Don’t come into my place and act like you’re better than me!” Lori closed the distance between them and poked her finger into Kelly’s chest. “Let me tell you something, Kelly King: if I’m a mess, then you are too! You think you’re some prize?”

  “I never said I was! I just can’t be with you anymore, Lori!” Kelly took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. “This thing we have going on? It doesn’t work, it never did. We are bad for each other. This is not healthy, can’t you see that?” She was really trying to get Lori to understand and for a minute, she thought it was working. Lori’s face had softened and for a moment, Kelly thought she had finally gotten through.

  “We can make it work though, baby.” Lori spoke softly and tried to touch Kelly’s cheek but the other woman recoiled like she was about to be burned by fire. Lori ignored it and kept talking. “I love you and I know you love me too, Kelly.”

  Kelly felt like she was losing her mind. Lori had done a complete 180 and it was making Kelly dizzy. “Love?” Her voice raised an octave as her mind scrambled to make sense of what Lori just said. She honestly wondered if maybe she was speaking a foreign language, maybe that was the reason that Lori was not getting it. “This isn’t love, Lori! This is some sick, twisted dance that the two of us are doing! We are toxic together! Toxic!”