Lev

by Belle Aurora

  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 t
hem 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.”

  Chapter Four

  Lev

  Although I didn’t understand other people’s emotions, I understood my own quite well. And right now, I was disappointed.

  “Explain,” I ordered.

  Her hair still covered most of her face, but I could see one wide green eye peeping out at me. She looked frightened.

  No. From the way her hands shook and her chest heaved, it hit me that she wasn’t frightened. She was terrified.

  Nodding toward the wallet in her hand, I spoke softer this time. “That belongs to my brother.”

  Her shoulders slumped. She uttered a quiet but remorseful, “I’m sorry.”

  Taking a step forward, I took the wallet from her hand and held out the other. She reluctantly placed a hundred dollar bill into it and stepped away from me. I opened Sasha’s wallet and stilled.

  I looked up at the girl. She had dipped her chin to avoid looking at me. “There’s a lot of money in here.” She nodded. I asked, “Why didn’t you take it all?”

  When she looked up at me, she blinked away tears and whispered a trembling, “I just wanted something to eat.”

  A wave of emotion ran through me. First, anger, then sadness, then something I couldn’t quite explain. Protectiveness, perhaps. “You’re hungry.” A statement, not a question.

  She nodded once more and it was done.

  The girl had unexpectedly become my responsibility.

  ***

  Mina

  Gentle fingers under my chin lifted my face until I couldn’t avoid him anymore.

  He spoke in perfect calm. “You have a choice.” I stared, confused. I hadn’t realized I’d be given a selection. “I can call the cops and have you arrested.” I almost bunched my nose, but stopped myself in the nick of time. I didn’t like that choice. “Or you can work for the club, make good money, set yourself up.” He added, “Never go without a meal again.”

  Was this guy nuts? My mind gaped. Like I even had to think about which option I preferred.

  Then he added a third option, taking the hundred-dollar note I’d nabbed and he held it up high. “Or I can give you this. You can leave and disappear into the night.” His eyes trained on me, he theorized, “A hundred dollars will get you more than one hot meal.”

  My head swam. I was sure this was a trick.

  A hundred dollars was enough to get me by for a little while but a job, a place to stay and food. How could I pass that up?

  Oh, God, food was important to me.

  I swallowed hard. “Option-B sounds good.”

  He seemed pleased. “I thought so.” He extended a hand. “Come along.”

  Pulling my sleeves down over my hands, I leaned away from him. “Wait. What kind of work? I—” My train of thought went elsewhere and I blushed. “Dancing? Like those girls out there?”

  A single brow rose. “You think I want you to strip?”

  My blush turned into a full-blown flush and I felt my neck heat.

  Of course he doesn’t want you to strip. You’re not exactly Jennifer Lopez.

  “I don’t want you to strip. I want you to stay clothed.” He looked disgusted that I would even make the suggestion. “Fully clothed,” he added testily, and mortification turned my stomach. “You’ll tend the bar with the others.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  His stare was blunt. “You’ll learn.”

  That didn’t sound bad. In fact, it sounded great. He held out his hand once more and, keeping my hand covered with my sleeve, I placed it into his. When his warm hand cocooned mine, I realized how large it was. It didn’t take long for me to take in the rest of him. He was tall, around 6’1” or 6’2”, had broad shoulders, narrow hips, long legs, and a stern face. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. It had to be. It didn’t look like this guy could buy off the rack. I glanced up at his face, and his light brown eyes stared right back at me.

  A shiver went through me. His face came across harsh. His cheekbones were high, his chin was strong, his nose slightly crooked, and he had generous lips. His skin was lightly tanned and flawless; he didn’t have any laugh lines. It was almost as if he didn’t smile at all.

  It suddenly hit me. Why would a man who wore suits and spoke in such a classy manner help a homeless girl who he caught stealing?

  I pulled my hand out of his. “If this is a trick…” My hair covered half of my face, but I could see the sudden tilt of his head and narrow of his brow. I told him honestly, “If you want to call the police, call them. I promise I’ll stay and tell them I stole the wallet.” I lowered my face and added thoughtfully, “They might even feed me.” I peeked back up at him. “But getting a person’s hopes up and joking about things like that to someone who has nothing…it’s cruel.”

  He looked at me for a long moment before taking my hand again—without permission, I might add—and stating, “I don’t lie.”

  He said this confidently, in a way that left me inclined to believe it. I was led out of the bathroom and down the hall before I asked quietly, “Why are you helping me?”

  Without looking at me, he led me on and responded, “You look like you need the help.”

  ***

  Lev

  The later it got, the quieter the bar became. Paolo’s memory had been celebrated long into the night, and while patrons were calling it a day, the club would be open until three a.m., regardless of if it were empty.

  I led the girl back out to the floor, and I couldn’t help but notice how tiny her hands were. I liked the way they felt in mine. I did not like how cold her skin was. I’d have to buy her warmer coat.

  I gazed down at her. Scratch that. I’d have to buy her a coat—any damn coat—in her size.

  At the lip of the foyer, I leaned down to the girl’s ear and ordered, “Stay here,” and then walk over to spot Anika behind the bar. Her face brightened at the sight of me.

  My lip quirked. I liked Anika. She’d always been kind to me. We’d known each other since we were children, and her brother, Viktor, was somewhat of an honorary family member and could be found at our house, eating our food.

  “Hey, Lev,” she said as she gently tossed her long, red wavy hair over her shoulder. She puffed out a breath, blowing part of her fringe off her forehead. “What a night, huh?”

  I liked the way Anika spoke. It always calmed me. She had such a soft lilt to her voice that at one point I thought her an angel. “Hey, Ani.” I handed her Sasha’s wallet. “Can you make sure my brother gets that?”

  She smiled sweetly. “Of course. You off for the night?”

  I nodded. “Have a good one.”

  Her smile dissipated at my hurried goodbye. She spoke quietly, “You too, handsome.
”

  Walking back to the girl, I was almost surprised to see her still standing there, chewing nervously on her thumbnail. Part of me figured she’d disappear while my back was turned. But at the sorry state of her, I knew she likely had nowhere to go.

  I held out my hand, and she placed her small one into mine without question. And goddamn it, that satisfied me. Immensely. We walked hand-in-hand through to the parking lot, where my black Chevrolet Camaro sat waiting. I pressed the button on my keys and it chirped twice, then I opened the passenger door for the girl, helping her inside. “Buckle up.”

  Perhaps it should have worried me that she didn’t even hesitate to get into a car with a complete stranger. But it was obvious that anywhere was better than here.

  Once seated, I started the car and drove out of the parking lot. Without asking, I drove down the street to the twenty-four-hour burger joint and headed down the drive-thru. When I stopped at the speaker, I turned to the girl. “Anything in particular?”

  She eyed the menu, but shook her head. She licked her lips. “I’m not fussy.”

  I ordered her the biggest burger meal, supersized, and an extra cheeseburger, just in case she could down it. I doubted it though. She was positively tiny. Once the food came, I handed it to her, and she held the paper bag close to her chest as if she was worried someone would take it from her.

  I waited. And waited. And waited.

  My brow furrowed as I parked the car. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  Her eyes darted here and there. She held her tongue for a moment before she uttered an uneasy, “I don’t want to mess up your car.”

  The loud growl of her stomach was an objection if I ever heard one.

  I reached over, opened the bag, took out the burger, unwrapped it carefully, and handed it back to her. She took it with shaky hands, closed her eyes, and took a big bite, chewing slowly.