Chapter Four - KATYA
“Katya,” Oliver says in the video. Just the sound of his voice is enough to make my whole body tingle. I have to pause it and swallow hard, butterflies taking over inside my stomach.
“Get it together,” I say out loud. “Keep calm and don’t lose your nerve.”
Easier said than done.
I have to close my eyes and take deep, deep breaths. How can one word affect me like this? After almost four years. One word.
That word is your name coming from the lips of the only man you ever cared for. And you have a job to do. So focus.
The voice in my head isn’t mine, though. And that’s equally as unsettling.
I get up and go to the kitchen, take out my bottle of Stoli vodka from the freezer, and set it in front of me. The bottle isn’t pretty like Grey Goose. It’s not something you keep to admire like Crystal Head. In fact, the label screams Cold War communism. But it’s got a lot of memories. Good memories. Stoli is like grilled cheese and tomato soup when you’re sick.
Comfort.
I grab a long-stemmed cordial glass and pour. Just one ounce. I don’t want a buzz, I just want… comfort.
“To coming home,” I say, then down the shot.
It goes down smooth, replacing the chill with fiery heat. I carefully set the glass down and turn to face the computer.
This is why I’m here. This is what I’ve been planning for. This is the moment of truth.
I go back to my desk and press play.
“Why did you come back?”
“If you really don’t know why,” I say, “you will soon.”
His hand is wrapped around his thick cock. Tip of his thumb sliding up and over the crown of his head with each stroke.
“I know it’s you,” he says. “Katya Kalashova. I really never thought I’d see you again.” And then he laughs. “Well, I can’t see you yet, can I? But you’re here for a reason.” A pause. “I will see you and if you try to leave town again, sneak away like a fucking coward…”
But he doesn’t finish. He stops talking and closes his eyes. His hand busy on his cock. Sliding up and down, slowly at first. Then faster.
His head tips back, his breath becoming heavier, louder.
I watch. Unable to take my eyes off him. He looks up at the ceiling, then closes his eyes—the relief of release all over his face as he comes on his stomach. The semen is milky white. A steady bursting stream like it’s been a while since he’s had this pleasure.
“Oliver,” I say. My fingertips are touching him on the screen. “Oli—”
My phone rings. Not the cell that Lily calls me on. But the disposable one I keep in the kitchen drawer next to the stove. I know who it is by the ringtone, but I don’t want to talk to him. Not yet, not now. I don’t want to think about why I’m here—other than one last chance to get what I want out of life.
The ringing stops and I don’t wait for the voicemail. He would never leave a voicemail. This is all too sketchy to leave evidence behind.
Besides, he’d gloat when I gave him the update. I tried to convince him that Oliver would delete my account straight away. Wouldn’t even notice me at all.
He disagreed. “He loves you,” he’d said. “He has always loved you. What kind of woman is perfect for a man like Oliver Shrike? Think about that, Kat. Think about that long and hard, girl. He’s not looking for someone sweet. He’s looking for you.”
I get what he was saying. Someone like me. Someone from a crime family, like Oliver’s. Someone who’s seen more than she should, like him. Someone with a lot to gain and even more to lose.
We both know we’re perfect for each other.
And Oliver did notice me once. I barely had to try. All I had to do was take a seat on a bench four years ago. And I wasn’t even there to meet him. It was a total accident. Who knew fate would intervene just when I thought it had abandoned me?
But that fateful opportunity passed me by four years ago. The me I am now has almost no resemblance to the girl I was then. This is my life. There is no getting out of the trouble I’m in.
The video stopped while I was lost in the past, so I take a deep breath and wander over to the window.
There are three of them standing there now. Mr. Corporate. Mr. Mysterious. And Mr. Match.
None of them look anything like I remember. Not even Oliver. The only time I saw them together was on TV and they were all wearing suits. It was something to do with the pre-trial stuff. Long before I ever met Oliver on that street corner.
But here they are in the flesh looking well. Looking rich. Looking almost… happy.
Almost.
Just two more Misters to make a set. And once Perfect and Romantic show up things will never be the same.
I go back to my computer with my camera and upload the video I made earlier to Hook-Me-Up. I wonder how safe he thinks he is? That website fronting as a dating site.
It is a dating site. One of the biggest.
But that’s not all it is.
It’s a place to find people, for sure. Find people to do jobs you can’t advertise anywhere else. Find people you ran into long ago, but don’t know where to look for them now. It’s not a place for your neighbors and friends—unless your neighbors and friends are part of the underworld. It’s low-key, it’s highly secure, and it’s all illegal as hell.
“Oliver,” I say, just to hear his name on my tongue. “I hope you’re ready for what comes next.”
My phone rings again. I get up and walk into the kitchen, opening up the drawer next to the stove. I stare at the number on the screen, wondering if it’s time to own up to what’s really happening.
But I don’t answer it. I close the drawer and walk to the back of the apartment to the master bedroom, dropping the silky robe to the floor as I enter the bathroom and start the tub.
I don’t need to answer it yet. I have a few more days before he will start getting worried about my commitment.
I am committed. One hundred percent.
But the heart wants what the heart wants.
And my heart wants Oliver Shrike.
The timing is perfect. I couldn’t have planned it any better if I tried. It’s dumb luck that Oliver saw those videos today. They’ve been up there for weeks. It’s dumb luck that no one else deleted them before I got this far.
I get an idea. Something that might speed things up a little. So I go back out to the living room, grab the camera and tripod, and then set it up in front of the tub.
He put on a show for me, maybe I should return the favor?