Vassili
TWO NIGHTS LATER
Just as I was flagged for returning to my homeland, a police cruiser lines up behind my Mercedes, and BLURPS the lights at me. And I thought Mr. Washington had backed the fuck off? I pull over, grab my license and insurance and zip down my windows.
“Hands on the steering wheel,” a masculine voice blares through the speakers. “Both windows down.”
Doing as told, I shake my head.
The beloved boys in blue step out of their cruiser and come to both sides of my car, flashing the light in.
“What did I do, this evening, officer?” I start to grab my license and insurance from my lap.
“Hands on the steering wheel,” he says again, flashing the light in my face.
The illumination burns my retinas. My hands clench the wheel. He pulls out his phone, and starts to make a call.
“Keep your head forward, too,” the cop on the passenger side commands.
I lift my middle finger from the steering wheel as response. A few moments later, the cop on my side holds out his phone.
Keeping my head forward, hands glued down, I argue, “What the fuck? Is it for me? Are you going to hold it to my ear?”
“Take the damn phone, Resnov.”
I snatch it from his hand. “Hello,” I growl into the receiver.
“Are you keeping my daughter and grandchild safe? And why the fuck are you going on vacations to Russia for five days, without them? Got another family that I should be aware of?”
Damn, did Zariah go to her father about Igor’s death? No, my wife wouldn’t tell him our problems. “What do you want, Mr. Washington.”
“You to choke on rat poison, but I’m a softy. My pretty princess loves you. When she takes her love away, Resnov,” he chortles, “that’s the end of you, buddy. She’s a cop kid, should’ve married … a cop. Should’ve become DA.”
“This is fucking perfect, Maxwell,” I laugh with him. “Your mentality is just like my father. Get the entire family into the business. Zariah can prosecute the cases that you deem necessary, and she wouldn’t harp if you sent over investigation files with nothing on them. No reason to try the mudaks who are on your team, right?”
“I keep saying you were smart. Remember the first time we chatted? I came to that conclusion. You’re a fighter, a strategist. Now, take your ass home. You’ve been gone for almost a week. Keep your family safe.”
CLICK.
My chest is tight with anger. This motherfucker tells me to keep my family safe? I can handle my own! The cop reaches inside and grabs the phone. I have it in my mind to call Mr. Washington back, but I head home instead.
***
In the nursery, Natasha’s back slowly rises and falls as she sleeps. I place my hand on her, she’s warm and soft. It takes all my strength not to pick her up, and hold her to my chest. But my baby is a true fighter and a restless sleeper. She will riot if I wake her.
I feel someone watching and turn around, Zariah is standing at the door, in a nightgown. I head toward her, she pivots on her heels, and starts to our bedroom. Inside the room, she stalks past me and closes the double door. This is a signal that her mother stays. I expected loud cussing, and anger. She leans against the closed door for a moment.
I take her arm, she slaps me away.
“Zariah, I’m fucking sorry, baby,” I try.
“No, I don’t need your apologies, Vassili, I need you to understand something.” She moves from my grasp, and goes to the dresser.
“Three months ago, we were in opposition of each other. Then we head to Brazil, and you had your comeback fight. We made promises…”
I’m a dick. I look like a piece of crap as I begin to grovel, “Zar—”
“No, let me finish,” she has something fisted in her hands. “I stopped taking birth control, so Natasha could have a little sister or a little brother.” She flings something at me. It bounces off my arm. “I’m pregnant, Vassili! And FYI that’s from last night, this morning, I went to see the Obstetrician. Two months, Vassili. I have the photo. Would you like to see that, too?”
“Dah,” I nod my head slowly. Can’t show I’m fucking elated, I’m still in the dog house.
“Okay, but only if you promise to step up to the plate. What do I have to do, get you to pinkie swear, sign a fucking contract! What’s gonna get you to put our children first, Vassili! Huh? We have a life here, you tell me you went home. Fuck you and your damn home, Vassili, this needs to be home.”
“It is home, Zariah!”
Her look shuts me the fuck up from another attempt at an apology.
“Vassili, you go away to fight in Australia in three weeks, I swear, if you runoff before then, I will find you, and drag your ass home. Now, do you want to see the ultrasound? That’s your gesture to me that you plan to take care of home.”
“I’m sorry,” I step closer to her. She slaps my face, again, and again. I take every hit she offers. From my back pocket, I pull out a long jewelry box. “See, beautiful, I have something just for you, baby. I’m sorry.”
Zariah gingerly takes the box, opens it up. It’s a platinum tennis bracelet with seven-carat diamonds, I always get her seven carats. The damn thing cost 30k, but she’s worth more. The box snaps shut.
“A tennis bracelet. Wow, I’m a fucking little girl now?” She tosses the thing over my shoulder. “I’m actually so very sorry about what happened to your cousin, Vassili. Yesterday evening, I met with Mikhail, and all the older brothers to help with funeral proceedings. Malich is mute, he isn’t saying shit to anybody right now.” She rubs tears from her face. “They’re your family, damn it, and you know it! You should’ve been there.”
I try to hug her again, but she slaps me. “I dreamed of Anatoly murdering you, Vassili,” she screeches. “I dreamt that you’d try to retaliate, and your father killed you!”
I’m stunned, stock still, standing before her. Last week, she had tears falling down her face and I was too angry to give a fuck. Tonight, my heart feels like it’s shredding in my chest, from the shit she just said. She worried about my dying?
I glance down at her, Zariah just stands there, hugging her hands around her chest. She’s got my seed in her belly, and I’m being a dick! My hand goes to the back of her neck, and my lips go to hers.
Zariah turns her head. “Not right now, Vassili.”
My teeth grit, I can’t take her tears anymore. “You want me to sign a fucking contract or something? I’ll do anything for you to forgive me, Zariah.” I reach for my hair, my fucking mohawk is gone. There’s nothing to tug. I rub a hand over my buzz cut, and then punch myself in the chest.
Zariah finally reaches out a hand to me. “I was just talking, but baby, I’m scared. If you ever leave…”
“Leave?” I bark. I plant kisses on her lips, more and more, tasting the soft sweetness of her mouth. “Ya nikogda ne otpushchu tebya—I will never let you go,” I tell her. “No matter how much I might act a fool. I will never let you go.”
“Yeah, well you can tell me more about your mother, Vassili.” Her sweet voice makes my cock go flaccid. I just wanted to fuck her happy.
“Vassili, tell me why sometimes you can halfway screw me out in public, and then during other instances, your crazy ass plays the gentleman.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you.” I nod, with a frown. My hands grope at her breast, and my tongue twines in her ear. My dick begins to stretch and harden again.
“Tell me,” she folds her arms.
I press her hands back down at her sides, and kiss her again. “In a minute…”
“Now,” she murmurs, eyes glittering with tears.
Fuck now, I press my mouth over hers again. This time I bite her bottom lip until she opens up for me. My cock is straining against my jeans now, ready to leap out and fuck her. It’s been five days, and I need pussy.
My wife pushes at my chest with all her might. I take a few steps back.
“Sex doesn’t fix, everything, Vassili.”
“I know,” I shrug, but in my mind, I’m thinking yes it does. Sex will wipe away those tears and place a smile on that beautiful chocolate brown face of hers.
Zariah reaches up, places her hands on my jaw. “Baby, I’m not fucking you tonight. Sex isn’t a means to an end, no matter how many times I’ve caved in the past, you’re not getting any.”
Fuck, she’s right about sex. I close my eyes, breathe in the sugary goodness of her, and nod my head. I have to talk to her about my past, give her a little something.