Dirty Love (The Lion and The Mouse Book 2) Page 22

  She took in the view, staring at the dirty faced children racing down the sidewalk.

  I pointed to a massive building. “That’s the oil processing plant.”

  “That’s why sky looks so smudgy here.”

  “Yes.”

  “But many of the people that live here don’t even work in the plant. So, what you have is a lot of people who gather here or are out of work, desperate for food and somewhere warm to sleep.” I gestured to the two men carrying a massive box down the street. Every few steps they glanced over their shoulder as if the police were coming. “There’s no metro station and none is planned for the near future. Due to that, many don’t work legal jobs.”

  Emily nodded as if she understood their situation completely. “How many people do you think live here?”

  “Thirty thousand or so.” We stopped near the typical low-rise housing that was found in the rougher areas of Moscow. Buildings constructed in the 1950s which hadn’t seen repairs since then.

  “Are they also poor for other reasons too? Like racism, etcetera?”

  “There’s that, but Russians are…” I tried to figure out a good way to explain it to her. “In America, your racism is among a few groups in the end. I’ve seen many times that it can be whites against everyone else?”

  “It goes back and forth in different ways, but I get what you’re trying to say.”

  “Here, there’s so many ethnic groups. You might see Luka, Misha, and I stand together, and think that we are all Russian. And we are, but there are subtleties in our skin tones, eyes, hair. We each are from very different regions of the country. Different religions and customs at times.”

  “And that is where the discrimination comes in?”

  “Yes.” I shrugged. “But is there racism is what you’re saying. I don’t know. America and the UK’s problems are rooted in slavery and the brutality it brought. Russia has no history of slavery in that sense. It was abolished in the 1700s, and even when we did enslave, there were no race restrictions and it tended to be little girls—Germans, Poles, and Lithuanians. Muslims.”

  “Like you said…different types of hate.”

  Emily had been serving me well as my brain. She was fast with facts, already taking command of the Russian language. I had no doubt that she’d know two or three new languages by the end of the year. With my resources and money, she’d surpass me in anything she put her mind to, whether it was art or crime.

  I shut off the car and took the key out. “What I’m doing right now is dangerous and insane.”

  She turned my way.

  “We’re going to a very hungry group of men. But are they smart or stupid?” I tapped the side of my head. “If they see the long game, they’ll do what we want. They’ll keep you safe, serve as your men, and help us kill Sasha.”

  “And if they’re not, we’ll kill them and leave.”

  My jaw twitched. “You understand.”

  “Yes.” She opened her pocketbook. Only two guns lay inside. There was no lipstick, wallet, or anything else. “If we’re recruiting them, then they’ll want to know some of the plan. And if they don’t agree, then they’ll know our plan, and could possible warn Sasha to get some money. Information is a great way to get a quick buck. And our information could get them millions.”

  “Sasha would pay hefty for that.”

  “Yes.” She shrugged. “Or he’ll kill them. I’ll definitely make sure they understand that.”

  “My cock is hard.”

  Her serious expression shattered. “Kaz.”

  “You’re not one of my men, mysh. My cock doesn’t get hard when I plan things with my men.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “After you showed me those guns and that you were prepared, I wanted to stuff your mouth with my cock.”

  Breathless, she whispered, “Kazimir, we have to focus.”

  I studied her face.

  Silence filled the car, but I swore I heard music in my ears. We were in the shittiest part of my city, surrounded not by enemies, but men who weren’t completely my friends. They’d be too scared to kill us, but there was always a dumb criminal in a bunch of hungry ones. Someone could be trigger happy. Someone could be tired of seeing rich men like me dominate the world. Someone could be anxious and traumatized from life in the cold burrows of inhumanity.

  Someone could want to fuck with me or even her.

  Regardless of it all, I sat there and drank her beauty in. I sipped on this moment, enjoying the sensations on my tongue—the sweetness of the quiet with her.

  My mind was calm, although my insides rumbled and roared. “I thought you would be my brain. You’re not my brain. You’re my heart.”

  She blushed. “Only you could sweet talk me before running into a hostile area where we may have to kill or be killed.”

  I took the keys out of the car. “Stay close. Never wander off.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Be my heart.”

  She opened her hands and shook her head. “Kaz…”

  “Not now, but in the future.”

  “Be your heart?”

  “Yes. I have others for eyes and ears.”

  Her chest rose and fell as if she’d been running. She fingered her pocketbook as if she thought she should take out her gun.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I’ve been many things for many people,” she said. “Their brain to get out of trouble. Their lungs to find a moment to breathe. Their feet to escape chaos. Their mouths to get them in places they can’t, but…I’ve never been anyone’s heart.”

  “Good.”

  “No, you should be clear.” A complete seriousness washed over her face as if she was considering this with every cell of her brain. She moved her hand away. “I don’t know how to do things dealing with the heart. You should know that about me.”

  “I think I know enough.” The pictures of Tinder Killer victims flashed in my head. “I’m aware that you haven’t had healthy relationships.”

  “That’s one way to say it.” She let out an exasperated breath. “We should talk about this later.”

  I grabbed her chin and pulled her focus to me. “Don’t doubt yourself when it comes to the heart, and never doubt yourself, when it comes to me.”

  “And you know a lot about love?”

  The fact that she said the word warmed my skin. Never had I conversed with any woman about love. But suddenly, I wished I’d had more experience on this matter.

  I slipped my thumb against her bottom lip. “I know nothing about love.”

  She didn’t blink. She just stared. Some fear lay between her pupils and other parts were curious.

  “But…” My voice went low.

  I was scared to say the next words out loud. They were too new. Unusual. Unlike me in every way. But I said them because they had been burning inside of my chest for all this time. And although I feared the consequences, so many things could happen from saying them. Everything could change. Would she ever see me the same? Would we ever be the same? Is this moment too soon? And the main question that tornadoed around my mind was…would she now become a target for all my enemies?

  But I said it, because the words wouldn’t leave me alone. They wouldn’t let me sleep as I held her on the train last night. They wouldn’t let me focus on anything else this morning, when I woke up.

  I opened my mouth and whispered, “I don’t know anything about love, but I know that I’ve found something with you.”

  So simple, but more than I’d ever confessed to anyone.

  It wasn’t I love you.

  It wasn’t Marry Me or Spend the Rest of your life with me.

  It was You’re important to me.

  I think of you more than I’m used to.

  I can’t leave you alone.

  I can’t be a day without you.

  I can’t stop touching and licking you and needing you and wanting to stick my cock in you.

  She kissed me and then w
hispered, “I feel the same way.”

  I sucked on her lip.

  When she pulled away, she whispered, “We just have to be careful…and I mean with everything, with these guys, with Sasha and whoever is helping him. But most of all…we have to be careful with…our hearts.”

  I didn’t respond. We didn’t have time for all the things that came to my tongue. And she looked anxious. Who wouldn’t be? They’d been thrown into a new world and way of life. She sat in a foreign country surrounded by hundreds of strangers that didn’t speak her language.

  “Okay, mysh.” I kissed her. “We’ll be careful.”

  But in the back of my mind, I knew, I wouldn’t be careful. I didn’t want to take my time or figure out the rational way to love her.

  I wanted to lose myself in her. Jump off the fucking cliff. Cut my chest open, break my ribcage, expose my soul, and stick her inside of me. As close to my heart as I could get her. Let my heart boom right next to her. Let the organ beat against her skin.

  She should be trapped in my chest. Absorbed. All mine. As mine as one could get, when they’re buried deep within my soul. Every part of my cell. Moving through my blood. Vibrating within my oxygen.

  She was mine and didn’t even know how much yet.

  Fear crept in my heart. Such a new feeling. I’d feared nothing until her. Why had it come so fast for her? Why did it keep my chest solid and thick? Did she know? Did she know how I yearned to possess her? Lock her away? Never to be found? Only for me.

  Did she know?

  Her face shifted to neutral. “Let’s do it.”

  I opened the glove compartment, grabbed my gun, and stuck it in the holster under my jacket.

  “Nice gun.”

  “Yours too.”

  We left the car and I guided her through, keeping her as close as possible.

  Someone whistled from the roof above. A clap came to our right, on the roof across the street. We walked further up. A knock sounded on the left. With each step, another noise filled the area and mingled with the MKAD’s bustling traffic.

  I whispered to her. “They’re signaling that strangers are here.”

  Em didn’t look in the direction of the noise or make it appear like I’d told her anything. She kept her head straight and stern as we moved forward.

  “Do you know where they’re posted?” she asked.

  “No. There’s no need. Someone will note that I don’t belong. Another will look at my face. Then a smart person will think to themselves, ‘he looks familiar.’”

  “And then someone will shit their pants and rush here to talk to us.”

  “Yes.”

  Nothing could ever happen to her. Not one fucking scratch. Not one frown on her face. I would kill to make her happy.

  Nineteen

  Emily

  We’re in love? Isn’t that what being ‘the heart’ means?

  It wasn’t what I needed to be thinking about at this time. I walked dirty streets more than anything I’d ever seen in New York. It made me reconsider the very idea of poverty. Toddlers sat on the steps of abandoned buildings.

  I stopped at a little girl. Snot and dirt smudged her nose.

  “No.” Kaz gently grabbed my arm and guided me forward. “She’ll kill you.”

  The little girl held her hand high and mumbled Russian. Such small fingers and a sweet tiny face, but her eyes confirmed what Kaz said. I could see the death in them.

  We walked on.

  “She’s the decoy,” Kaz said. “She has a knife that she’s sitting on. If not a knife, then a piece of glass wrapped in a cloth. She’ll get you close enough to cut your neck. If not her, then a brother or cousin will be around the corner with their own things to hurt you.”

  I touched my neck and swallowed. “You’ve done something like this before?”

  “Yes. It’s an old way for kids to get money to eat.”

  “Fuck. We just pickpocket.”

  “But you had a way out of your area. You had trains and bridges to walk over. They’re stuck here without money. So, these kids must rob from thieves, and the only way to win is to never let the thief be able to walk away, once the thing has been stolen.”

  We walked on. Many of the buildings were worn gray and rusty brown. Some were scrubbed of color to the point that I really didn’t know what color they were. Graffiti decorated all of the walls. There were trash piles on the sidewalk.

  I noticed the signaling around the block had stopped. No more whistling or clanking.

  They know who he is now.

  “We can stop right here.” He linked his fingers with mine. I didn’t know if he was letting everyone watching us know that I was his, or if he simply wanted to hold my hand. Perhaps, it was both. I felt comfort every time he touched me. And in this foreign country, I yearned for his protection even more.

  “Be my heart.”

  I would. I just didn’t know how. I gained knowledge from books and living on the street.

  How did one get knowledgeable about love? They tried it out. They let themselves go with it. They fell out of love, then in love, then back out of love again. And through all the heartbreaks and different loves, they gained an understanding of the basics.

  That was something I had not done. My focus remained on the streets. I learned the code. I discovered the ways to hide and escape. I fought and killed. I stole and conned.

  But never did I ever fall in love.

  And here I stood next to Kaz, in his land, linking my fingers with his. And he’d asked me to be his heart. And I took all his requests seriously because deep down in my own heart, I needed him just as much as he yearned for me.

  Fear rushed through me, and it had nothing to do with the ten men approaching us with guns. Many of them were dark skinned. A few looked mixed. Tattoos covered all their necks and up under their chins as if that was the only way to be in their gang.

  My heart hammered, and again, it wasn’t the fact that those men held guns. At least each man had two. I did tremble in terror because of all the stores suddenly closing around us. Or because of all the people rushing away.

  I glanced over my shoulder.

  The little girl that had been sitting on the step now jumped up, grabbed a butcher knife that she’d been sitting on, and ran away. Two little boys rushed after her. They’d been hiding behind the trash cans next to the stoop.

  Damn. Of course. Kaz was right.

  Still, I tried to calm myself. I did my best to gulp down all the terror spiraling inside of me. It had nothing to do with all these threats around us because I knew they were simply threats. However, Kazimir was a promise. If they shot a bullet around him, they had better be doing it at his order. They wore fear on their faces. A few of the men in the back looked like they were about to piss themselves.

  Kazimir had their attention and they would try to appear bold, but they’d do what he said.

  Then, why am I scared?

  Kaz squeezed my hand as the men stopped in front of us.

  Because I’m scared to love him.

  I blinked, shook my head, and got my mind back to the game. Even though this was Moscow and a foreign group, every street had a game. A code. A way about how people rocked with each other.

  I knew how to play no matter who I dealt with or where I was.

  The men stared at us. Their silence showed that they didn’t know how to approach the situation.

  Kaz helped them out. “Who can speak English?”

  One of them got to the front. Dark brown skin. His hair was cut low. Crosses covered his chin and neck.

  “I speak English,” he said.

  Kaz extended his hand. “What’s your name?”

  “Boris.” The man shook Kaz’s hand.

  Good approach, Kaz. We’re friends. Don’t worry. We didn’t come here to start any shit.

  “You’ve got a lot of guns.” Kaz gestured to a few of them. “I could get you better.”

  Boris didn’t seem to know how to take it, so he nodde
d.

  “Who’s hungry?” Kaz scanned all their faces. “Who’s cold in the winter? Who can’t pay for a doctor for their dying mother? Who’s sleeping on the concrete at night? Who’s digging through the trash can during the day?”

  Several of the men exchanged glances.

  Boris nodded. “We’re all hungry.”

  “Do you know who I am?” Kaz asked.

  Boris looked at me, went back to Kaz, and began speaking in Russian.

  “No.” Kaz held his hand up. “Only English,”

  “Yes.” Boris stirred. “I know who you are.”

  “Then, come eat with me.”

  Boris scratched his head. “Can I explain this to my friends?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Boris turned around and spoke in Russian to the other men.

  My phone buzzed. Kaz noticed. “Who is it?”

  Wind blew through my hair. I wanted to zip up my jacket, but it would be hard to grab my gun. “It’s Max. He’s been calling since we got at the house.”

  “He’s probably calling for me. I tossed my phone in Prague.” He frowned. “I gave him something to do. I was hoping he wouldn’t need me to take care of it.”

  “The ballerina?”

  “Yes.”

  Boris turned back around. His men all wore varied expressions. Some appeared excited. Others terrified more than ever.

  “We would like to eat with you,” Boris said.

  Not bad. He doesn’t even want to know what he has to do. Hunger will do that to you.

  “Do you see her?” Kaz gestured to me.

  I studied their reactions and they looked my way. A few smiled. Others appeared confused.

  “I want her protected,” Kaz continued. “That means she doesn’t get a fucking splinter in her thumb.”

  I can handle splinters, baby.

  But Kaz had more. “You watch her back and do everything she says, no matter what it is, and everyone eats. Everything you need will be provided. Everything you dreamed about will be reached.”

  Boris widened his eyes and nodded.

  “Because you can speak English, you’ll be her main guy.” Kaz pointed at him. “You talk to her. You keep her happy. You fucking slit anybody’s throat that makes her mad.”