Mina
I didn’t have much of a plan.
Okay. So I didn’t have a plan at all.
After spending another fruitless night in my alley, my body was cold, chilled to the bone. I just wanted to go somewhere I’d be warm. Unfortunately, it was past midnight, and there weren’t a lot of options as far as I could see.
I could go into the convenience store for a while, but they would expect me to buy something, and seeing as I had no money and looked as though I had no money, they’d turn me on my ass before I could say boo.
There was the fast food restaurant with the bright red and yellow sign, but I didn’t think I could handle being engulfed in the smell of burgers and fries without bursting into tears for want.
I decided to turn and walk the opposite direction, when I noticed a group of men exit a building. They were laughing and looked happily drunk. Drunk was good. People did odd things when they were drinking.
My stomach rumbled loudly and my decision was made. I would find the tipsiest man in the club and seduce him. When he passed out, I’d take his wallet and be on my merry way. I could make a small amount of money go a long way if I had to.
I needed to eat. I felt ashamed that I would resort to low lengths to do that, but I was sick of being me. Mina was friendly, and honest, and kind. Being me got me nowhere. I was floating down shit creek without a paddle.
The white sign above the door read Bleeding Hearts in simple, elegant font. Steadying myself, I pushed open one side of the huge double doors and stepped inside.
A tall, bulked-up man with a crew cut and an impeccable suit looked down at me. He was not amused. “You lost?”
I shook my head before swallowing hard and muttering, “Just looking for somewhere to drink.”
That changed his attitude quick enough. He opened the second set of doors and loud RnB blasted into the foyer. “We don’t get a lot of ladies down here. The bar is to the right. Have a good night.”
I had been called a lot of things in my life, but never a lady. I suddenly felt regretful of my reason for being here. Regardless, I walked inside and felt immediate warmth. A shiver of delight caused my skin to break out in gooseflesh.
Finally!
I could’ve crowed with happiness, but I had more important things to think about. Before I made my way to the bar, I was drawn to the left.
Two women with gorgeous bodies swung around provocatively on poles, dressed in nothing but little scraps of material covering their privates. The blonde woman had glitter pasties stuck to her nipples. The redhead’s nipples were pierced.
Ah. I got it then.
“We don’t get a lot of ladies down here.”
My cheeks turned bright pink as men hollered up at the dancing girls. My gut rolled. The bouncer must have thought I was a complete pervert.
I pulled my hair over my face to hide my flaming cheeks and found an empty bar stool in the corner of the room, hidden from light. It was the perfect place to search for the man who would help feed me.
My eyes scanned the room through the dim lighting of the club. There were too many of them. I’d have to get closer.
I stayed by my stool a while before I made my move. My heart raced as anxiety took over me. I took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. My back ramrod straight, I would find my savior right here, in this very room.
I just didn’t know what he looked like yet.
***
Lev
I was drawn to her immediately. Intrigue held me captive.
My brow furrowed as I watched her. What was she doing in a place like this? It was clear she didn’t belong here.
By the look of her, she didn’t belong quite anywhere. She was so small her black coat was at least three sizes too big, and the way she covered her face with her long dark hair was so childlike that my chest hurt.
That was new. It surprised me. I wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad, but it made me take a step toward her.
I managed to spot one doe-like eye peeping through her hair as she stared openly at the girls on stage. Obviously, she hadn’t come to see dancing girls. From the shock on her face, she didn’t know Bleeding Hearts was a strip joint.
Reaching up, she moved to cover her face with her hair once more before she lowered her head and scurried along to the dark side of the bar. It pleased me that she chose that spot. It was the spot I normally sat. Warmth spread through my torso.
The club was almost at capacity. As news of Paolo’s death carried, Sasha spread the word that he would be opening the club to friends and family. No cover charge. Drinks were on the house.
This, of course, meant that my keen eyesight would have to be keener tonight. Sasha didn’t like trouble. I kept trouble from arising.
The girls behind the bar served customers, smiles pasted onto their faces, even though they would be worked to the bone. The tips would be worth the straying hands and ogling eyes.
Sasha came out from behind the door. His eyes met mine almost instantly and he jerked his chin at me in greeting. I returned it.
When I was younger, Sasha taught me it was rude to ignore a greeting. I was never any good at taking cues from other people. Conversation was painful. I didn’t like to speak unless spoken to, and even then, I would rarely talk unless a question was asked.
My brother was a hard man, but he was also patient. And growing up with me was not easy, I was sure. He never raised his voice to me, even when I was told I was being unreasonable. He was kind and understanding, and he explained things to me in a way I would understand.
I was six years old when my parents realized something was wrong with me. Our family dog, Mishka, ran out into the road and was hit by car. When my father told me she hadn’t survived, I simply nodded then ran upstairs to my room to process.
That was where I was found, hours later, covered in blood after slamming my head into my bedroom wall, over and over. My father rushed me to the emergency room. I’d opened the side of my head to the bone. They stitched me up, but still, I didn’t cry.
When the doctor asked if this was something that happened often, my father got angry. He said there was nothing wrong with me and that it was an accident. The doctor calmly explained that he could help, but my father picked me up and took me home.
In the car, he turned to me and said, “You are my son and I love you. There is nothing wrong with you.” But as the years went on, it became clear to anyone who met me that there was something wrong with me.
Although I smiled on occasion, I never laughed. I was able to remember almost every detail of every conversation I had ever had. I was smart in an abnormal way, and could calculate large sums in my mind. I did not understand or process emotion as others did. I didn’t cry. And I never lied.
People called me a cyborg.
I didn’t like that.
My sister, Nastasia, beat the shit out of the kids who dared to tease me. Sasha never had to raise a finger. All he would need to do was glare at them and they’d run scared.
Time went on, and Sasha helped me while Nastasia loved me unconditionally. Sasha taught me to respond to people in a casual fashion and helped me read cues. I still wasn’t any good at taking prompts from people. If you didn’t tell me what you were feeling, chances were I wouldn’t know.
Nastasia told me there was nothing wrong with me. That it wasn’t my fault I was smarter than everyone else. She said that if the rest of the world didn’t have shit for brains then I wouldn’t be so special, so I should be grateful.
The young woman moved amongst the crowd in a seemingly casual way, but I saw more in the way she watched the men with a hawk’s eye.
She was up to something. And I would find out exactly what.
***
Mina
It was harder than it looked, choosing a man to seduce.
It didn’t help that most of the men in the club were in their late forties and fifties and smelled like sweat combined with vodka, and that stale musty smell people got when they’d been drinking too much. It was funny that I felt the need to complain about smell, when I likely smelled just as bad. I should be grateful if one of these men took pity on me.
When one man grabbed at my hand and yelled in my ear, “Part of the entertainment?” I shook my head in panic, snatched my arm away, and dashed away, back to my corner.
Mentally scolding myself, I regrouped. He would’ve been a good candidate. Sure, he was old and fat and balding, but he wore nice rings and likely had a full wallet. Closing my eyes, I sighed.
What am I doing?
I scoffed, shaking my head before I stood. I couldn’t sleep with any of these men; it didn’t matter how hungry I was. And I was stupid to think I would be able to go through with my ridiculous plan.
Straightening, I moved to leave the club. Just as I was walking past a group of rowdy men, an attractive middle-aged man leaned over the bar to speak to one of the gorgeous bartenders.
I stilled, and everything else melted away.
The man’s wallet hung out of his back pocket half an inch.
It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough.
My feet took me over to him before I’d even mentally decided on what to do. I really didn’t want to steal this guy’s wallet. I just wanted to live another day. It wasn’t personal. It was life.
A foot away from the man, I stood with my back to him, and with quick fingers, I lifted the wallet out, whisper soft. I shoved it into my coat and, heart racing, looked around until I saw the neon light for the ladies room.
I didn’t stop to think. I ran.
Making my way down the narrow hall, I shoved the heavy door open. It was empty. I looked around with wide eyes before rushing into one of the many vacant stalls, seating myself on the closed toilet seat to see how I’d done.
The wallet was heavy. I opened it with shaking fingers. My curse hung in the air then I laughed to myself as I pulled out the stack of hundred dollar bills. I didn’t count them all, but I was sure there was close to seven hundred dollars there. Dropping the wallet on the floor, I shoved the money into my pocket and moved to unlock the stall. Just as my fingers touched the cool metal, my conscience glared at me.
Why was the man carrying so much money? I wondered. Perhaps that withdrawal, that specific amount, was for something important. And I was taking it from him. He likely worked hard for that money, and here I was, stealing it.
I pulled the money out of my pocket, a frown marring my brow. I didn’t need all this money. I only needed enough to get by for a little while.
Removing two of the hundred dollar bills, I placed the others back into the wallet. But my conscience still wasn’t happy. Sighing, I took another hundred and put it back into the wallet, leaving me with only one.
A hundred dollars was nothing to sneeze at. I could make that hundred go a long way. It would feed me for two weeks, three at most. I’d come by something else by then.
Satisfied with my haul, I held onto the wallet, opened the stall door, and froze.
I hadn’t heard the door open, but the tall man leaning against the wall had clearly been there a while. His light brown eyes on me, arms crossed over his chest, he looked down at the evidence in my hand and said one word.
“Explain.”