by SR Jones
My desire to do the right thing by the poor girl comes up against my terror of going back to my old life. I’m paralyzed, standing in the glossy kitchen, drinking a forty pound bottle wine, whilst upstairs, I’m sure the girl is going through hell.
I hate myself, but I can’t seem to bring myself to act. I remain there, sipping at the wine, letting the alcohol soothe me as I tell myself Andrius will sort this out. He’ll know who the girl is, surely. Or if not, he’ll recognize she’s being used, the same way he did with me.
He’ll save her.
I tell myself over and over, like a mantra.
After what seems like hours, I hear them come downstairs and peek around the door in time to see them dragging the girl into the lounge.
Shit. What the hell is going to happen now?
I pace the kitchen like a caged animal, until Andrius comes to find me. He pulls me out of the kitchen, through the patio doors, and into the garden, where he walks a good distance from the house before stopping. He stares at me, and I wait for him to speak. He looks … out of control, which I’ve never seen before. Angry, and maybe even a little afraid.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask.
“I’ve been given a gift.” His voice is dead, cold.
“What?”
“Yeah, Allyov has kidnapped a waitress from the restaurant and given her to me as a gift.” He shakes his head and then starts laughing. It’s the sort of laughter that could be shouting in anger, or crying, instead of laughing. A way to relieve tension and not any real amusement.
“Holy hell, what are you going to do?”
“I can’t do anything,” he says on a loud whisper. “I’m fucked. If I refuse her, it fucks me up. If I take her, it fucks me up. Shit.” He kicks a wooden garden chair, and a spindle splinters.
“Keep it down,” I tell him, my voice urgent. I’m freaking the fuck out but trying to keep it together. “Why do you have to keep her? Let her go. Tell Allyov she’s not your type. Hell, tell him we’re together finally, something you know he’s pushed for before, and send her away. He can let her go, and we go on as normal.”
I know as soon as I say it that Allyov won’t be letting her go.
Andrius shakes his head. “If I say no to her, Sergei is sending her to the Middle East.”
“He doesn’t traffic women,” I say, my mouth dry and bitter, as if it’s already the next morning and I’m nursing my hangover.
“He says he’ll make an exception.”
Andrius looks at me, his eyes not devoid of emotion as they normally are, but tormented. “I’ve got to keep her. I don’t fucking like it. I don’t know who the fuck she is, or why she’s here. She could be working for the old bastard. Who knows? But I won’t have her getting shipped to the Middle East on my soul.”
“No.” I don’t want that for him. Or me.
“Keep her,” I say. “Keep her, and we can make it clear to her she’ll be safe with us, so long as she plays along being your … captive. I don’t think she’ll want to go to the Middle East. Doing this, pretending she’s your … sex slave, for the next few weeks or months, it’s going to be the best offer she has. And you won’t … she won’t have to … I mean…”
He fixes me with a disgusted stare. “Are you trying to ask if I’m going to touch her? No, I’m not going to fucking touch her. Once, Justina. You only once get to ask such a fucking disrespectful question of me.”
I nod hastily and apologize. He rarely gets mad at me, but then again, I’m careful not to give him reason to, and now I’ve clearly crossed a line.
He sighs and runs a hand through his thick, styled hair. “Take her some food. Plastic cutlery only. Paper plates. You got that shit in for the barbecue, right? Use that. Tell her she’s safe for now, and try to reassure her, but don’t talk in any detail. I’m not sure if the house is bugged or not. Not sure anymore who I can trust.”
“You can trust me,” I tell him. He can too, not only because I want him to save my own skin, but because it’s true. I’d do anything for Andrius.
We’re about to find our cozy little world changed beyond belief.
Chapter 7
Justina
SIX MONTHS LATER
We’ve been at Andrius’ country home for a couple of days. The girl Allyov gave to Andrius is with us too. Andrius brought us here the day after the party, after having the house swept for bugs. I’ve learned her name is Violet, and she really was a waitress. Whether or not that’s all there is to her story, neither I nor Andrius know.
Having Violet here is uncomfortable for me; she reminds me far too much of a past I’ve tried to bury deep. So what do I do? I bury my discomfort too.
I treat Violet like my new bestie, which I can tell bemuses her. We lounge around the pool, I chat to her about stuff, and I am coming to realize she’s sweet. Genuinely sweet. She may be a mystery, and Andrius needs to be careful around her, but I’m pretty convinced she isn’t a spy for Allyov. Who would send such a naïve creature as a spy? Unless she’s an award-winning actress, but my time in the brothel made me a pretty damn good judge of character, out of necessity, and I’m starting to truly believe she’s an innocent waitress who Allyov decided to kidnap.
It’s taught me a lesson because Andrius is always telling me not to trust Donna, Allyov’s wife, and I did, but now that I know the depths he’ll stoop to, I’m staying away from that crazy old man and his whole family. Far away.
I can’t go back to that life, and if he’s willing to take a waitress, then one day he might try to take me.
My life, being what it is, my plan to stay away from Allyov doesn’t last long. I’m in the kitchen, having finished putting the food I’ve bought away, when the front door bangs, and Andrius stomps into the house.
“Justina?” he shouts my name.
I head out of the kitchen to see what he wants. “Yes?”
“We’re going clubbing tonight, at Allyov’s request. There is something he needs me to do. Sorry to ask, but I need you to come.”
He puts a tiny emphasis on the word need, and his gaze flicks for a second to Violet. I get it. He can’t leave her alone there while he does whatever it is Allyov wants.
Not waiting for my reply, Andrius stalks off down the hallway, clearly in a sour mood.
Shit. I can feel the beginning of a mild panic taking me over, and I can’t freak out.
“I don’t have any clothes suitable for clubbing,” Violet’s quiet words interrupt my mini panic moment, and thankfully pulls me out of my spiral.
I look at her and grin. This I can do. I can take my mind off my fear of Allyov and his kidnapping ways by having a makeover afternoon. God knows, the girl needs it, and other than shopping, nothing soothes me more than clothes and makeup and all that shit. I love it, and it will be great to get a chance to make Violet shine.
I’ve been percolating a naughty little idea. Thing is, one day, eventually, Andrius will probably meet someone. He always says he won’t, but he will. He’ll hit forty, maybe forty-five, and he’ll realize he hasn’t got a wife, or a family, and he’ll want it, and then, if he picks badly, I’ll be out in the cold. If he chooses some hard-faced bitch, like me, or him, then I’ll be a goner. But Violet? She’s too sweet, too nice, and frankly too timid, to dare try to get rid of me.
So it’s actually in my interests for something to happen between these two. I know she likes Andrius despite the situation she’s in. Maybe even a little because of it? Perhaps she’s got a bit of that old Stockholm Syndrome shit going on? What do I care? The reasons why don’t matter; all that matters is that she’s clearly a bit into him, despite being terrified of him, and it’s reciprocated.
Andrius saw me in that brothel, and he saved me. He never once asked for anything from me. Not once. He’s never done anything with the girls from any of the strip clubs, except for one night when he screwed Carmel, and he thinks that is over, but that girl is all googly eyed for him, and he doesn’t even see it.
The reason
he screwed Carmel? Well, she’s fucking hot, but I think it’s more than that. She’s a waitress there. Not a stripper. She’s there purely by choice to pay for her fancy law degree. She’s not a single mum, grinding it out on stage every night to pay for her kids’ food. She has choice, and she has a future, and by fucking her, Andrius wasn’t preying on anyone who had no options. Of course, I doubt he analyzed it in such a way, but I did.
He now has two fuck buddies. Again, they’re professional, well-off women. They choose to screw him and not get anymore involved, and he’s perfectly happy with that.
So Violet is an issue. He wants her, I can see it in his gaze when he watches her. There is a hunger there, but then I’ll see him blink and close it down. He wants her, but he doesn’t like the fact.
But lust is a powerful thing. We all think we’re rational creatures, but there’s one thing more powerful than our rational human side—our greedy desires. And Andrius wants Violet as much as she wants him. They both simply need a push. And I’m about to give them an almighty shove. Because I am going to make this little sweetheart look so damn fuckable, Andrius’ balls will drop off if he doesn’t do something about it.
A few hours later, and the night is going to plan as the club heaves around us, and I drink away my nerves. Andrius even had Violet on his lap for a while, which he might tell himself he did to fool Allyov into thinking he’s accepted his gift, but I know he did because he wanted her on his knee. And why wouldn’t he? I’ve done an amazing job, if I say so myself. She looks edible. Fucking hell, I quite fancy her.
I glance around, looking for her, and a tiny slither of unease fills me. I can’t see Violet anywhere.
Andrius is off with Allyov doing something unsavory, I’m sure, but where is blondie?
I’ve managed to temper my anxiety of being around Allyov by telling myself no way will Andrius let Allyov do anything to me, and secondly by drinking a fair bit. I’m buzzed but not trashed. Violet, though? She told me she doesn’t usually drink, and I’ve plied her with a fair bit. Shit. I hope she’s not tried to follow Andrius and Allyov!
About to go looking for her, I see her with Andrius, and my heart sinks.
He’s furious. Jaw set. Face tight.
Christ, has he found her spying on him? What will he do to her?
I go to them and try to defuse things.
“Another round?”
Violet turns to me, and her face is so stricken the next words die in my throat.
“We’re leaving; you can come with or stay here,” Andrius snaps.
What the fuck? He knows I’d never stay here. Fucking hell, what has the little witch done?
I’m suddenly angry at her, and it might be irrational but tonight was meant to make me safer by getting her and Andrius so into one another they did something about it, and played happy families. I would be like the glamorous Aunty to all the kids they had. Now she’s gone and pissed him off so bad, he’s even being shitty with me.
“I’ll come with.” I want to add to my words by telling Andrius that of course I’m not fucking staying, but frankly, I daren’t. I grab my purse, and giving Violet a worried glance that screams, what have you done, I follow them.
I get into the back of the car as Andrius makes Violet climb in the front before peeling out of the parking space at an angry pace. At first there is deadly silence but then Andrius speaks, and he starts to tell Violet off.
She must be fucking stupid, or too drunk to think straight because she argues back right at the point he tells her he’ll dump her ass if she behaves like that again.
“You can’t dump someone you’re not in a relationship with,” she says with a smile.
Oh, stupid, stupid girl.
The car screeches to a halt and Andrius unclicks Violet’s seatbelt and pushes her door open. “Get out.”
Oh shit.
She starts to question him, and he’s telling her angrily that he can dump her, so I intervene. He’ll hate himself forever if he does this, and he can’t leave her here on the side of the road. She could get murdered or worse. Because trust me, there are fates worse than death, and I know because I lived one.
“Andrius,” I say, but he lifts his hand to shut me up and reads Violet the riot act.
I listen to his words and begin to realize just what she did. She had another guy with his hands all over her? In front of Allyov? Is she insane?
My God, maybe my idea of her as meek and mild is completely wrong because that’s fucked up.
“Violet, what did you do?” I ask her, dismayed.
She starts to justify herself, telling me how awful it is that Andrius has fuck buddies. So what? I begin to tell her how stupid she’s been, messing up this act, this game. She’s almost sobbing as she tells me she didn’t mean to; she’s drunk and her head’s in bits. Then she says something that plays right into my hands.
She tells me she got upset about Andrius having other women. And I can tell from the level of rage he’s displaying that Andrius isn’t merely angry at her showing him up in front of his boss; he’s fucked off she had another man touching her.
I bite back my smile and push them both that little bit closer.
“Why?” I ask her in reply, to her telling us she’s upset about his women. “Why do you care? You should be happy he’s getting it elsewhere, right? You and he can keep up the charade, and in reality, you get to keep your clothes on, and Andrius is kept satisfied elsewhere. You can’t go doing what you did in public tonight ever again. If you have a boyfriend, or someone you want to see, I’m sure Andrius can arrange it. Let them come to the house, right, Andrius?” I’m playing a dangerous game, but I don’t back down. I add, “So long as no one else knows.”
“No, absolutely not.” Andrius takes his eyes from the road long enough to shoot me a look sour enough to turn milk. “Come up with any more stupid suggestions and you’ll be joining her out there.”
I shut up for a moment, and the two of them are bickering again straightaway. They want one another, think they can’t have one another, and this angry atmosphere is the result.
“I’m not having you bringing back some guy and fucking him under my roof.” Andrius is almost shouting, and he never shouts.
“Why not?” I pipe up from the back, putting so much sugar in my voice the sound alone is enough to turn a person diabetic. “She can bring her boyfriend around now and again, like I do my girlfriend, and fuck him. You can carry on fucking Nina and Vicky, your latest little playthings. We all get our rocks off, but no one knows that you and she aren’t bumping uglies, outside of us three. It’s the perfect solution, Andrius. She stays with us for as long as it takes, but she has her own life within reason, so long as she’s discreet.”
“No.” Andrius makes a dismissive motion with his hand, and I want to laugh at him. He’s got it so bad.
“Or, maybe,” I say with a dramatic sigh. “You two can get over yourselves and just fuck already. The sexual tension between you is ridiculous. I think I might be pregnant from it, and I don’t want kids, so you guys need to sort this out.”
“Justina, shut your fucking mouth,” Andrius snarls at me.
I don’t usually go against him; I normally try to be as nice as possible so he will always keep me around, but this is ridiculous. I give him and her a long speech about how stupid they are, both wanting one another and neither of them doing anything about it because they think it is immoral. I end it by stating that I’ll be getting out with Violet too if he throws her out, thinking that will sway him.
Instead, I can see him actually contemplating throwing us both out into the dark. Shit.
“Andrius, please,” I beg him, not really wanting to be out there in the dark.
He spits out a frankly disgusting string of curse words and guns the engine. I sigh in relief that tonight at least, I’m not going to be out there in the dark again. Alone.
When we get home, Violet runs into the house as soon as the alarm is off and the door opened, and straig
ht upstairs. Andrius gives me a dark look, shakes his head, but then pulls me in and kisses my forehead.
“You’re fucking lucky you’ve become family after pulling that shit tonight.”
My swirling anxiety calms down some. I hug him close, his scent so familiar to me now. “It’s not wrong to want her, not if she wants you back, and she does.”
He ignores my sage advice.
“Make her a coffee, will you?” He pulls back and studies me for a moment. “And thanks, for tonight. You’re a pain in my ass, but I know you care. Will you make her coffee, black and strong?”
I nod and let go of him completely before heading into the kitchen. God, I hope I’m doing the right thing, pushing these two together.
It’s partly for selfish reasons because I don’t think Violet will try to get rid of me if she and Andrius become an item, but also, I’d genuinely like to see Andrius happy. He’s a strange character; cold, closed off in many ways, but he does care deep down, and he has a heart. I’d like to see him with someone other than a casual fuck buddy for once.
I make the coffee and head to Violet’s room. I knock and push the door open with my foot, peering around it.
“I made coffee, thought you might want one?” I offer.
She starts to shake her head, but Andrius takes it anyway.
“You okay?” I ask her.
She nods and says yes.
I bid them goodnight and make my way up the stairs to my room.
Once there, I flop on the bed, and for a moment it’s all too much. Emotions I don’t want to damn well feel threaten to overwhelm me. Anxiety at the changes afoot. Sadness for the mess Violet is in. Trepidation and a sense of unease because damn it, what if I’m wrong about her? What if my famous people radar lets me down, and she turns out to be a cold bitch spying on us all for Allyov? Or worse, a competitor of his?
Jesus, I can’t handle myself when I get like this. It’s late. I can’t shop. Well, I can shop online, but right now I’m so angsty I feel as if I need to move.
