by Ryan Schow
“She is, but not like me,” Zoya said.
“I want to see a picture of you, by the way. So maybe I can spot you among all the other good-looking women we find.”
She laughed. “I’m sending a pic of myself to your phone. When you see it, erase it, but then take a picture of you and your friend, so I know who to look for.”
“I’ll take one of us now.”
Turning Fadey’s phone around, activating the camera function, Atlas said, “Cira, love, scoot in. Let’s take a few photos.”
She frowned at him, like she wasn’t enjoying any of this. He grinned and winked at her, fully in a persona he hadn’t embraced since before Jade. It was scary how easily he could slip into his former self.
He took their picture, Cira in close. She put her cheek against his and smiled. He snapped another shot. She then turned and kissed his cheek, held it while he snapped the photo, then kept it on while he took another.
“Last one,” he said. He touched his lips and said, “Right here and hold.”
She looked at him for a second, but he set the camera up and she leaned in and kissed his lips. He waited a moment, then snapped the picture.
She pulled off his mouth and said, “Took you long enough.”
“I was trying to see how little Aleksander felt about that,” he teased. She socked him in the arm.
As he was looking at the three pictures, Zoya’s pic came in and she was hot. Ridiculously hot.
“Whoa,” he said. “Look at her.”
“I hear you talking about me,” they heard Zoya say, making him wonder if the girl understood English.
“Darling, you’re right,” Atlas teased. “I don’t think I can afford you.”
He heard her laughing on the other end of the line. That was when he sent her a grouping of their best three pictures and waited for a response.
“This is really you?” she asked.
“It’s really me.”
“You won’t need to afford me, I’ll come for free,” she said, a bit of emphasis on the word come. “Oh, and your blond friend? She’s hot as fuck.”
He glanced at Cira, who had no idea they were talking about her.
“You have a Tinder page,” Zoya said.
“It’s new,” he said, surprised she’d found him so quickly. “I’m here seeing my cousin and she suggested I set it up.”
“Do you have a lot of activity already?”
“I don’t know. I think too many older women are on it.”
“I’m on it,” she said.
“Well, you’re maybe a bit too old for me, but I’ll let it slide because you’re beautiful. Wait, in this picture, do you have filters on?”
“No,” she said, almost like she was offended.
“Is that your real skin?”
“Yes.”
“Hmmm…I think you’re trying to fool me.”
“I swear, that’s how I look,” Zoya said. “But I’m looking through my purse and I don’t have money to get to the mall.”
“So get some,” Atlas said.
She laughed nervously, then she said, “You pay for a cab for me and my friend and I’ll meet you at Afina.”
“That’s fine,” he replied. Fadey was mouthing the word “scam” to him in English. He nodded, knowing what it was. “How much do you think it’s going to be?”
“Not much for a UFC fighter,” she said. “I’ll call one now, then tell you where to come and get us.”
When they hung up, Fadey said, “She will take the fare and tell you it’s ten times the amount it really is.”
“I know.”
“If you get taken advantage of so quickly, she will press you as far as she can. Next thing you’re buying her clothes, bottles of overpriced wine, paying her month’s rent.”
“I’m okay with that,” he said.
Fadey shook his head, then said, “Okay, then. It’s your money.”
“Normally I’d adhere to your advice, but I’m seeking out Vanko, and to do that I have to be the kind of man who asks for what he wants and gets it, no matter the cost.”
“Money will get you everywhere in this city,” he reasoned.
Fadey eventually dropped them off at Afina. He and Cira walked in and got some sort of flavored drink, shared it, then talked about last night in terms of generalities, not mentioning her drunkenness or her state of undress. He could tell she was embarrassed, not that she had anything to be embarrassed about.
“So you made me kiss your mouth a little too long,” she said again.
“Reliving the moment?” he teased, not looking at her.
She took his face and turned it to her. “Why did you really do that? And don’t tell me it’s to see if I gave you wood.”
He grinned, but the grin was forced. “I think we picked up a tail.”
“We’re being followed?”
“I am, I think.”
Cira casually glanced over and saw two men who did not appear to be gay dressed in active-wear but standing near each other. If they were someone’s muscle, they were all stocked up on muscle but lacking in surveillance skills.
“You said they followed you last night?”
“Someone did.” He got up and said, “Come with me.”
They walked back outside to the cab, which was his for the day. Atlas tapped on Fadey’s window. When the man rolled it down, Atlas said, “I need to see the website where you found Zoya.”
Fadey pulled it up, then handed the phone over. Together he and Cira began scanning the girls. There were lots of them. Just then the phone beeped. He had a text from Zoya to meet her and her friend out front where he could pay for the taxi. He texted back that they were on their way out, then resumed scanning through the girls.
“Stop,” Cira said. Pointing to a blond, she said, “I remember her.”
He was looking at the girl from last night. They looked at each other and he said what he felt. “I think we’re being watched, or set up.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because we look good together and we have money.”
Cira grinned and said, “We do look good together. And we have money. Now let’s go have some fun with these hookers.”
When they saw Zoya and her friend, they were walking away from the cab. The cab drove off, apparently paid for.
“I was going to pay for it,” Atlas called out, hand on a stack of bills.
“You can pay her,” Zoya said, nodding to her short-haired, big-breasted, bottle-blond friend. “She had some cash on her. That was the deal, right? I come, you pay?”
“I like that,” he teased. “You come, I pay.”
“What’s your name?” Cira asked.
“Svitlana,” the short-haired girl answered, not terribly shy—more like she had her tampon in sideways.
Zoya turned to Atlas and said, “You look younger in your picture.”
“No, I don’t.” To Svitlana, he said, “How much?”
Svitlana glanced down at his cash and gave him the overinflated amount Fadey had said she would. Acting like he knew nothing about the real cost of a cab, or how this uptight Ukrainian slag was trying to get one over on him, he gave her the amount of money she asked for and said, “Will this cover it?”
“Almost,” she said, glancing at the cash again.
“Well, if I give it all to you to pay for your expensive trip here, what will I have left to buy Zoya clothes with?”
Purposely excluding her made her frown even deeper. “If you’re nice,” he said, “I will be thinking of clothes for you, too.”
Cutting in, Cira asked Svitlana, “Are those your real tits?” She turned and flashed Cira a look. “I like them, they’re at least two sizes bigger than mine.”
“And hers are spectacular,” Atlas added.
“They’re mine,” Svitlana replied.
“Can I feel them?”
Atlas looked over at Cira and she was using her charm to take the edge off this otherwise awkward greeting. That was when
Atlas saw the men who’d been following them. He feigned ignorance to their presence.
“I guess,” Svitlana said. “If you’re not rough. They’re a bit sore around the nipples.”
“Mine get that way too,” Cira said, reaching out and taking Svitlana’s left breast into her hand. “Wow, these feel amazing. Mine are too small, don’t you think?”
The short-haired blond relaxed a bit more, reaching out and feeling Cira’s boobs, then said, “No, they feel really good.”
“Before we all decide to hump each other’s legs in the parking lot, perhaps we can do some shopping?” Zoya said cheerfully.
“I like what she said,” Cira told Atlas.
The four of them got along surprisingly well. Atlas enjoyed talking to the girls more than he’d thought. Even Cira seemed to be having fun, making small talk, flirting. Svitlana asked Atlas about his fighting career. This was easy to talk about. He simply used his martial arts experience, his years of watching the UFC, and his time with SWAT to dream up more than a few stories about fighting professionally.
Svitlana seemed skeptical about everything, but Zoya was all about Atlas, or to her, Aleksander.
Eventually, after he bought them each an expensive outfit, the two of them seemed to let go of their concerns. When they had their outfits, Zoya helped him try on clothes in the dressing room, touching him suggestively where he was bruised and scarred. He didn’t hate it. They didn’t hate it either. Even though his willingness to have fun impressed them, he was not afraid to tell them no. Regardless, they kept pestering him to buy everything under the sun. For a second, they reminded him of Alabama when they used to go to the local mall. She’d wanted him to buy everything she saw as well.
To test Zoya’s intentions, however, Atlas started paying attention to Svitlana. If Zoya was trying to hustle him—if she and Svitlana were running a joint racket on him—she wouldn’t care. For some reason, though, she did. She even started to get jealous of her friend. As good as that felt, it wasn’t what Atlas wanted. Cira, however, paid extra attention to Zoya, which helped sell the story, but not by much.
Finally Zoya said, “My feet hurt and I’m hungry.”
“Me too,” Svitlana said. “Can you hear my stomach?”
Atlas put his head down on her flat stomach, eliciting a laugh from Zoya. “I hear noise, but what language is that?”
“I need meat, Aleksander,” she said in her most needy voice.
“Then meat you shall have,” he said, walking them to the food court.
The four of them feasted, and when they were done, Zoya said, “I was thinking of maybe taking a shower, changing into my new clothes and heading out to Ibiza Club tonight, if you want to join us.”
“We were there last night,” Cira said.
“Not with us you weren’t,” Svitlana replied. “This fact matters.” She ignored Atlas now and paid attention to Cira, meaning she was as aware of the group dynamic as Zoya was, and as Atlas was. Meaning Zoya was Atlas’s girl if he wanted her.
“What would be different tonight now that you’re there?” Atlas asked.
“You being who you are, Cira being delicious on the eyes, and Svitlana and me being fun and sexy, well…you never know what kind of trouble we could get into.”
He looked at Cira and said, “Are you up for another night of drinking and sexual escapades?”
“Aren’t they a bit too old for you?” Cira leaned in and whispered, just loud enough for Zoya to hear.
Zoya and Svitlana exchanged looks. Svitlana made a silent, barely noticeable nod at Zoya, who then cleared her throat and said, “I have a friend, but she’s more like a little sister.”
Atlas turned and smiled. “What do you mean, little sister?”
“She’s younger than us if that’s your thing.”
“I didn’t say that,” Atlas declared.
“It’s his thing. He won’t say it, but it is,” Cira said. “Believe me, I’ve fought for his affections for too long. Time and age, however, are working against me as far as Aleksander is concerned.”
“You’ve had my affections longer than you’ve fought for them,” Atlas said to Cira.
“How old is she?” Cira asked. “Your little friend.”
“Fourteen,” Zoya said.
“Does she have her tits yet?” Cira asked.
“They’re still growing.”
Atlas pretended that this interested him. Sick to his stomach about the entire conversation, but thinking he needed to do this for Alabama, he said, “Some aren’t the same as none, but I suppose that’s fine. Is she cute? Does she look anything like you two?”
“She’s not a virgin,” Svitlana said, cold.
“I didn’t ask that,” Atlas replied. “But I was wondering.”
“We’ll bring her, but she’s got representation,” Zoya said. “Me? I wouldn’t need someone to handle my affairs, but she does because she’s too young to make decisions for herself.”
“Is she still in school?” he asked.
“When she can find the time,” Zoya said.
“Who is her representation?” Cira asked. “Vanko?”
The two girls got very quiet, but then Svitlana said, “How do you know that name?”
“I represent Aleksander when it comes to his…extracurricular liaisons, which means I need to know who has the things he wants. That’s how I stay in his affections if you want the truth.”
“Vanko doesn’t handle her,” Zoya said
“Who does, then?” Cira asked.
“Ruslana.”
“So Ruslana will be there too?” Atlas asked, working hard to contain his excitement. “Because I saw her picture on your website and that’s a woman I’d make an age exception for.”
“She’s not available,” Svitlana said, folding her arms.
“So I hear,” Atlas replied.
In truth, Atlas truly would make an exception for Ruslana. She made Jade look plain by comparison, and his ex-wife had never lived a plain day in her life.
“I don’t know about this,” Zoya said. “Maybe I spoke too soon.”
“Honestly,” Atlas said, “I couldn’t give a damn less if she comes or not. I’m kind of tired from all this shopping and fun.” He turned to Cira, took her hand. “You want to share a bed and a movie tonight?”
“Will you cuddle with me?” she asked, leaning in like a practiced lover, looking in his eyes as if the two girls weren’t there. As if they had never been there to begin with.
He smiled, then nodded and said, “If you want.”
“Ruslana is going to be there,” Svitlana told Atlas. “Who knows, with your charm, and maybe something more than cute talk and cash, you can earn her affections too.”
“I don’t care about her,” Atlas said coldly, not taking his eyes off Cira. “I decided otherwise.”
Svitlana got on her phone, dialed a number, waited, then said, “It’s me. Is Olena available tonight? I have a good client, flush with cash. He would like to…enjoy her company.”
The chesty blond listened to the voice on the other end, nodding as they progressed through the conversation. For a second, it looked like she might have gotten her way, but then her expression changed. Hearing one side of the conversation was enough for Atlas and Cira to follow, but seeing Svitlana’s physical reaction told him the true story.
“When will she be back?” Svitlana asked. “What about tomorrow? Yeah, we can get a late start. Eleven?”
She looked at Atlas, who looked at Cira. Cira, in turn, looked at Svitlana and gave her a nod of acknowledgment.
“Eleven’s fine. Where? Ruslana’s place? The house? Okay, yeah, we’ll be there at eleven. I’ll let him know the rules.”
She hung up the phone and Atlas said, “A late dinner, followed by a short nap, will keep my energy high for the evening.”
“That’s a good idea,” Zoya said. “Where should we pick you up?”
“It’ll just be me,” Atlas said. “And you can pick me up at the Co
ntinental. By the way, do you personally work for Vanko? Because I’ve gone through Dasha before and not been upset by his operation.”
“You know Dasha, or you know of Dasha?” Svitlana asked, almost like she was disappointed to be having the conversation.
“I don’t know him personally. But his reputation precedes him.”
“Trust me when I tell you that you do not want to know him,” Zoya said.
“Why’s that?” Cira asked.
“His interests are…unique to his personality,” Svitlana said. When Svitlana said this, something in her demeanor changed. Like she suddenly got smaller, younger, more timid. Even her eyes seemed to pull back into her head a bit. “His interests are purely Satanic. Do you know what I mean?”
“I think maybe I do,” Atlas said. Cira was nodding along with him. “Some men just can’t help themselves.”
“So try to stay away from him,” Zoya said. “You seem nice enough.”
“I’m not,” he said.
Zoya smiled at him as if she didn’t believe him. She then leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, close to his mouth, and thanked him for the clothes.
“I am appreciative of what you bought for me as well,” Svitlana said genuinely.
When Atlas and Cira returned to the Continental, Cira opened the cab’s door, then turned her head just enough so he’d hear her. “You’re not staying with me.”
“I wasn’t asking,” he replied, still cold, a lead weight in his stomach thinking about tomorrow night.
She turned and looked at him, aghast, uncomfortable, almost like she was offended that he had a free night and wasn’t trying to spend it with her.
“I haven’t been drinking, Atlas,” she said, the hint as plain as day.
“I know,” he replied, not looking at her.
“To hell with you, then,” she said, not nasty, more like tired.
Without a response from him, she got out of the cab and he shut the door behind her. To Fadey, Atlas said, “Take me back to the apartments, please.”
“You have a way with women,” Fadey said after a few blocks.
“It’s my impossible charm.”
Back at Kofi’s house, Katryna and Maxim were cleaning up dinner. Kofi was out back smoking a cigarette. Katryna said, “I didn’t know if you’d be joining us.”
