Kaci

 

I wasn't sure what was more uncomfortable: the wire beneath my top, the gun tucked into my boot, or having to watch the birthday party right next door to us as we met with Efraim in the park. The three of us stood out like sore thumbs, but not quite as badly as the half-dozen Storm’s Bloods who weren't more than twenty paces away.

 

Efraim wasn't what I'd expected. He was tall and slim, and seemed to keep himself in good shape. His face was hard, though, with the no nonsense look of a Cossack. Cold, uncaring, cruel when he needed to prove a point. But, unlike Abram, he had impeccable taste. His suit was well tailored, his clothes perfectly cut. No Russian mobster cliché, there.

 

The Bear's gray eyes peered out at Micah from beneath a heavy brow, taking his measure with each word that left my partner-in-crime's mouth. Every so often he would flick his eyes towards me, but quickly would divert his attention back to Micah.

 

“So, now that you've broken from your little gang, you want to join mine?” the Bear asked Micah before glancing my direction, maybe to see my reaction.

 

“Look,” Micah said, “I've been on the wrong side of things for years. I can help you on your little security situation.”

 

Efraim chuckled, his eyes darting between the two of us. “Security situation? Tell me of this security situation you've heard about.”

 

Micah leaned forward. “Know you're having problems with people knocking over trucks. I can help you stop it, and even bring something else to the table.” He slid the manila folder containing the sealed bidding contracts for the state police and the Louisiana National Guard.

 

I glanced around as Efraim opened the folder with terse movements and began to pore over it. I realized as I sat the park picnic table, with all those children playing around us, eating hot dogs and burgers and chips, that I couldn't do it. I just couldn't do it.

 

The death of my brother was awful, one of the worst things I'd ever experienced in my shitty life. I'd gladly have shot Efraim to balance the scales. I'd have tortured him to death if I had to, burned him alive, electrocuted him. You name it.

 

But, at what point did my revenge become so much that it tipped the scales back the other way? At what point did I create more harm than good by my less-than-moral actions?

 

Abram had deserved, and so did Efraim. But, if I injured a child while I tried to level justice on the Bear’s head, I'd never forgive myself. This was where I had to draw the line. I'd keep my gun in my boot. That was the only way to go.

 

Like it, or not, I wasn't going to be killing Efraim today. And, if things went right with the sting operation, I never would. Instead, he'd be locked up between foot-thick walls, and out of my reach.

 

The pit of my stomach ached. But, then, as I looked at Micah, I realized what I would have missed out on anyways if I'd gone through with the plan: the chance at actual happiness. Vengeance can't provide that for you, can't help you live a real life, and it certainly can't hold you close and keep you warm at night.

 

# # #

Micah

 

I wasn't sure if Efraim Petrov was biting, or not. He seemed twice as cagey as I'd imagined. And, Hell, he didn't even know about the disguised van full of federal agents just around the corner.

 

Beside me, Kaci sighed, and Efraim and I both glanced over at her. She just gave us a “what?” look and shrugged her shoulders.

 

“Where did you get this?” Efraim asked. “And why do you think I would care for it?”

 

“I think . . .” I said, searching for just the right words. “I think, every businessman alive needs an edge. That's why I want to work with you, Mr. Petrov. You have that edge, even if you're taking hits on trucks. Everybody out there whispers about you, about what you can really do.”

 

Efraim laughed, his eyes switching back to linger on Kaci for a bit longer this time. He seemed awfully focused on her, which I guess was a good thing. He smiled a little, his eyes tracing over her face and form before he turned back to me. “So, what is it that these people say about me, then?”

 

“They say,” I replied as I leaned in closer to him, “that you're running some serious firepower. And I want in on any organization that can pull that off.” As I spoke to him, though, his eyes drifted from my face and back to Kaci's. He was distracted by her, that much was certain.

 

Efraim laughed again, sitting back from me. “People say all sorts of things,” he said, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Want me tell you what I hear about you?”

 

Of course he'd heard about me, and definitely done some digging when Gov approached him. A man like Efraim Petrov didn't get far in this world if he didn't do his research. But, still, it was disconcerting to know that a man like The Bear was checking into your background. “Sure,” I said. “Shoot.”

 

“They tell me that you are a big biker,” he said as he shut the folder containing the sealed bid. “Real American bad ass,” he added sarcastically, “who is on the outs with his God’s Hellfire buddies. I kid, of course. You have solid reputation, Mr. Marlow, very positive.” He paused, made a face, and didn't continue further.

 

“So, that a problem or something?” I asked, a little confused by the way he'd phrased things.

 

“My problem, as you say, is that you seem a little too positive, Mr. Marlow. A little too nice, from what I hear. I need ruthless men, men willing to do whatever it takes. I don't believe you have that.”

 

“That a no, then?” I grumbled.

 

He shook his head slowly, baring his teeth at me as he smiled. “I'm sorry, Mr. Marlow, but I don't think any alliance would work out for my benefit.”

 

Frustrated, I shook my head. “Fine,” I replied, reaching across to take back the closed folder. “That's how you feel, guess we'll be leaving.”

 

He slapped his hand down on the manila folder, pinning it to the picnic table. “Not so fast, though,” he said, his attention turning to Kaci. “Don't I know you from somewhere?”

 

Motherfucker.