Chapter 21
Anton
This guy won’t shut up, he just won’t shut up. My hand goes to my knife. Viktor speaks to him, but he isn’t listening to what Viktor is saying. His hands are flailing everywhere but where they should be, and it’s making me irritated. His friend next to him is joining in on whatever the fuck the first dude is whining about. I’m fucking sick of it. Stepping both feet forward, I come to a stop in front of him. His hands stop moving, but he looks at me. Just before he has the chance to say anything, my hand is swiping, and blood is being poured delicately from the wound.
His friend, the not-so-talkative one, stands and steps toward me as well. He starts swearing, throwing his hands up in my face. At first, I do nothing, but then it becomes irritating, and my knife slides through him like butter when I go for the artery in his thigh. His eyes widen, and he looks down while stepping back. Pulling the knife free—fuck him, he issued his own death warrant. Pity I don’t want him alive. The floor has become a pool of blood, the red sticky substance hard to walk in without slipping. Turing to walk out, I hear Viktor’s steps behind me, then he’s talking on the phone which is followed by the slamming of his door as he takes the passenger seat and I start up the car. I’m covered in blood, him not so much.
“What the fuck?” he swears, shaking his head. “Have you lost your damn mind?” I shrug my shoulders. “You can’t go around killing people because they annoy you, you fuckhead.”
“You’re annoying me.” He looks down at my hand then back up to me while I drive.
“If you even think about raising that fucking knife in my direction, I’ll show you what you had for fucking breakfast with it.” He shakes his head. “Stop fucking killing people,” he says in a stern voice.
“I haven’t been.”
He slams his hand on the dashboard of the car. “Fuck off you haven’t, that was the fourth guy in three fucking weeks. It’s like you’re on a spree. Have you become a mass murderer, or perhaps a serial killer and I’m not aware of it?”
“The first one annoyed me.”
“And the others?”
I try to think of a good excuse that doesn’t include the word ‘annoyed’ but I come up blank so I say nothing further. I stop out front of Death’s house, and he climbs into the car.
I can’t resist and say, “They annoyed me,” as I start driving again.
“You annoy us all the motherfucking time, but you don’t see my knife embedded in your heart,” Viktor says while Death nods his head in the back.
“Do you want a cap in your ass? I’m more than happy to bust a cap in both of your asses.”
“Did you time warp back to the nineties? Who the fuck speaks like that?” Viktor says.
“Just shut the fuck up and drive,” Death chimes in from the back. “I can fuck my wife again, and I need to get back home sooner rather than later.”
I slam on the brakes, both heads go flying forward, and they both swear at me.
“I can fuck again?” I ask. How the fuck did I lose track of the weeks? How the fuck did that happen?
“Yep,” Death says, nodding his head with a slight smile on his face.
I stop the car and get out. Viktor looks at me like I’ve gone fucking mad. Maybe I have.
“I’m off to find pussy.” I salute them. “Sayonara bitches.”
“Fuckhead, get in the car so we can clean up your mess.”
I ignore him and start walking to the nearest bar. I’m going to fuck and fuck hard.
***
She’s not my usual cup of tea. Actually, what is my usual anymore? I don’t even know. She giggles over nothing, doesn’t stop running her hands up and down my torso, and won’t stop smiling. Who smiles that much? I sure as shit don’t, and I’m one of the happiest people I know.
She makes some sort of weird sound that leaves her mouth as I push inside her, my hands cling onto the brick wall behind her head, and all I want to do is to shut her up. Close her mouth up so it’s not her voice I hear.
My cell phone starts buzzing in my pocket again, so I try to ignore it. I really do, but my cock is going soft while it’s in this chick’s vagina. That has never happened. Ever. What the fuck is happening to me?
“Oh God, you feel so good. Don’t stop.”
Lies, this bitch is lying. I’m not even moving, but she’s gripping her hair, her eyes are closed, one hand is on my shoulder as she slides up and down.
Maybe it’s the back alley that’s the turn-off. Nah, I’ve fucked in worse conditions than this before. It can’t be. Then I look at this chick who has on so much make-up I couldn’t tell you if her skin was pale or tanned. Or even what color her eyes are with how much eyeshadow she has caked on. I don’t want to look at her anymore. Pulling out, I stand back. She straightens her dress, pulling it down then bites her bottom lip as she looks up at me.
“Where to now, sugar?”
I shrug my shoulders. “You can go home.” I turn, but her voice carries on anyway.
“You want more at my place?”
Desperate. She didn’t seem that way in the bar. Maybe I didn’t really pay much attention, though. She’s the first chick to touch my dick in weeks. It said hello at the chance of being played with, then died once it was. It didn’t want her.
Walking down the street, I call Viktor, who just swears at me in Russian then proceeds to hang up on me once I tell him where I am. Walking down the street, I wait for his car because I know he’ll come for one of two reasons, so he can bitch me out or punch me. It will be one or the other.
His car stops next to me, but it’s not Viktor’s voice I hear. It’s Kazier who’s telling me to get in. We used to be in competition while we were growing up—who could be better at this or that. Kazier is the skilled killer, we all know that. Death is silent and not to be trifled with. Viktor is in control, with every situation planned for so you can’t be fucked over. Me, well, I’m the smartass, the one that runs my mouth then I’ll stab you while you smile. So Kazier being angry at me doesn’t happen often. Usually, it’s just a few words, and that’s it. He’s never been the type of boss his father was, in other words, a cunt. But the look he’s giving me now and then turns away, I can tell he’s more than pissed. And everyone knows it, because no one says a word as I climb in and sit behind him in the car.
Viktor drives, and he speeds to the one place I know where we have serious discussions—Kazier’s father’s house. Kazier hates this place, and now we’re here. They all start walking in. I follow behind and I’m last to shut the door as we enter. Then we sit at the table. The table where so many important conversations have happened before, the one where he was told he would be married, then again the one where he declared he would not. He sits in the seat his father used to sit in, this time with no drink in his hand as he would usually have. His fingers tap on the wooden table as he looks at me.
“You’ve been reckless. If you weren’t one of my brothers, I would have had you killed.” The other two sit down and don’t say a word as Kazier speaks. They know better than to utter one single word. Fuck, even I do, sometimes. He shakes his head at me. “What the fuck, man, you’re killing for fun? But the worst part is you’re being reckless about it.”
I have nothing to say, nothing to defend myself with because I’d do it again. The first guy I would one-hundred times over for what he did to her.
“You’re banned.” My back sits up straighter, and he shakes his head. “Don’t say anything. If you kill one more person, it’s done.”
He means I’m done.
And because my family is the highest rank, it won’t be death for me, it will be punishment. That means a trip back to Russia and working for people lower than my maids.
“Have you spoken to her?” Viktor asks after the silence becomes too much. I shake my head. “You should, she’s looking better.”
I nod my head.
“Please go and fuck her,” Kazier says, standing. “And don’t fucking kill anyone while you’re at it.”
“I can’t fuck her,” I say, clenching my fists.
He shakes his head. “Fuck, I forgot.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Go to her and see her at least, you’re a real prick without her.” He stands from the table, and the rest do the same, then we walk to the kitchen where he grabs a few bottles of vodka. “Let’s get fucked up.”
We each have one. Death doesn’t look interested until Kazier raises his eyebrow to him, to which he opens the bottle and starts drinking. Pretty soon words are flowing, bottles are half empty, and calls are made.
“What has she done to me?” I complain to them, and they all laugh.
“You’re in love, you stupid fuck.”
I shake my head. They don’t know shit.
“You are all controlled by the pussy. Especially you,” I say pointing to Kazier.
He shrugs his shoulders, not giving two fucks. “It’s the truth,” he admits.
“Him, well I’m pretty sure he’s some kind of dominatrix or some shit and Pollie’s his sub.”
Death grunts but doesn’t say a word as he puts the bottle to his lips, finishing it.
Before we know it, all the bottles are empty, the knives are on the table and so are our hands. Viktor is going quickly, a knife between each finger and fast. Death takes the knife off of him to do the same, but to his fingers not his own. Viktor curses him out in Russian when he nicks his skin, spilling blood onto the table.
“Just stab him already,” I yell, throwing my hands up in the air.
I may be drunk. Maybe.
“We had this discussion, no more killing anyone.”
I roll my eyes. “Fuckers.”