Vassily: Perfect Pain - a Bad Boy Mafia Dark Romance
Page 10
I’m raging, firing, yelling. I’m standing over him. Still firing into the bloodied mess. Fucker. Trying to reason with myself, I pull myself away. I run to Milo. Mikhail’s already there. He looks up at me, shaking his head.
I take a breath. Then I tell Mikhail, “We need to get everybody into the VIP lounge.” He nods. “Move them out so we can eyeball everyone, one by one in a line. Make sure everyone is okay. Make certain there aren’t any more. Start getting ready for a clean up in here.”
“We can’t keep them here against their will, Boss. Some people will want to leave.”
“Sure, no worry.” I tell him, “Anyone who stays, we give them an open bar and a year’s membership. We need people willing to talk to the cops. Those that won’t stay, have them escorted down in the elevator. In twos. Call Captain Morden and rouse Chief Doyle. Get them up or haul them out of whatever dens of vice they’re holed up in. They both owe us plenty. Tonight, we’re cashing in all the IOUs. We need them here before any of the regular precinct guys show up. We want a thorough job on this.”
People are rising, poking their heads up, slowly climbing to their feet from behind chairs and tables. Starting to move like a stunned herd. They need guidance. Mikhail starts to rally the troops and guide the guests.
Marco’s voice is above the noise. As soon as I hear him, even before I know what he says, I know what’s happened. He’s almost wailing. “Katya!”
Propelled by impulse, I run to him. His face is white. “She’s gone.”
I hold him by his shoulders. His eyes are flicking around. He’s panicking. “She’s gone, Vassily. Those little Russian pricks from the wedding reception. They were floating around here, as soon as you and Mikhail had got the first two attackers, they grabbed her. Literally. Hauled her over the table, over the bench and they dragged her out.”
“Fuckers.”
“It can’t have been more than a minute ago.” And he looks like he’s about to have a meltdown.
I guess he’s distraught, thinking about his poor, vulnerable, frightened investment.
shiver in the gloom and I try not to let it show. In a stark pool of purple light on the little round stage, I am strapped, roped and chained in a chair in the middle of the empty circular showroom. Empty but for me and the two of them.
The cold in the club is at odds with deserted plush and glitz. It’s a big room with a low ceiling with booths and nooks, furnished and decorated for intimacy. The place is like the inside of a sideshow tent that froze in time when the lights went out.
Prowling around me, Alexei’s boots make thuds in the dark emptiness. His eyes rake over my strapped, tied body. The turquoise silk Prada dress is rumpled and crushed by the straps that cut into me. He says, “So, I guess we want to keep all of your super valuable assets intact.”
Behind me, his friend Sascha’s laugh is raw like a rusty nail scraping on cement. “Sure. We’ll need to keep her pristine,” he leaned down to whisper, close to my ear. “So we get the best price when we sell you on.”
Alexei keeps moving.
“One of those Arab princes would pay a lot for a girl like you.”
I stop turning my head to keep track of which one of them is talking. They will do what they’re going to do and there isn’t much that I can do to stop them. It doesn’t mean that I’m going to play their games, though. I know this part. If they can make me feel and act like a victim, it will fire them up. And it will break me down.
“Yeah. Curvy little blonde thing could really spice up their harem, right?”
Alexei is behind me. Now it’s him, talking with his lips close to my ear. “Take you out of your cage at night. Roll you around under the stars. Stick their fat Arab cock up you and impale you there until you shout. then maybe stick it up your ass.” All the willpower I have goes into staying still and not reacting. I will keep this up for as long as I can.
There’s no chance of anyone coming to rescue me, I know. All I can do now is hold out. Look for a chance. Any chance. Is this the worst situation I’ve ever been in? The scariest, the most dangerous? There have been so many worst possible situations. these are not the most dangerous men for sure. Teenagers playing at being tough guys, I could handle them myself if I wasn’t strapped up.
I remind myself to stay cool and not to underestimate the damage an idiot can do.
Now his friend whispers into my other ear, “Maybe they’d buy her to do favors for their special guests.”
Alexei’s in front of me now. Near enough to make me pull back my head. The ropes are too tight. They’re burning my arms.
“Your big selling point is the ‘Russian Virgin Princess.’ Are you a princess?” If only he knew. I taste the alcohol on his hot breath. “Maybe it would sound good on eBay, what do you think?”
Walking from side to side behind me his pal says, “So we probably shouldn’t fuck her.”
“No.” Alexei leans nearer. “Not actually fuck you. Not in the official meaning of the fuck. Not like spread your legs wide and slam our cocks into your pussy.”
“Rock and ram her till she busts and shouts.”
Alexei is sniffing the heat from my treacherous body. “Fuck her until she gushes like Niagara Falls.”
“Nope. Not that.”
“Not in the conventional way.”
Alexei cocks his head to one side. Like he’s only just thought of it he says, “Have you taken much cock up your ass?”
His pal is behind my ear again, “He means have you taken many, but I guess it could be good to know if you’ve taken uncommonly long, hard cocks up your ass.”
“Or ridged, rocky, fat cocks, with bulging bulbs.”
“Have you practiced swallowing?”
“Not cum. He doesn’t just mean cum. Though I wonder how many bucketloads of hot jizz you’ve slurped down in your time.”
“Must be a few, right? Cum glugger.” Alexei looks pleased with himself. “Put that on the eBay ad, right? ‘Princess. Russian. Unused. Glugs cum.’ Sounds good, right?”
Sascha says, “No, what it is we’re wondering is how far down your throat you’re experienced in taking a pounding love muscle.” His friend grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me back. I struggle but I’m off balance. He drags me, fast. My feet kick but all that happens is that I scrape the Gucci shoes on the floor. I’m twisting but his grip is tight.
Alexei walks along, watching me. “You’re still a virgin. Technically. Right?”
“Sure, she is. She could have chowed down on cock, a whole platoon at a time and still be a virgin.”
“Taken the crew of an aircraft carrier up her ass at the same time. Makes no difference. Right?”
I keep my voice level and talk to them. Slow. I say, “Are you sure your dream Prince Salaam is going to see it that way?” I look at Alexei. Taking my time. Sounding like I’m in control if nothing else. “It’s business, right?” I’m twisting to get a look at his friend, but I can’t. I just watch Alexei instead, “Or are you just a couple of jerk-offs, dicking around.”
From behind me, Sascha says, “She’s pretty smart, Alexei.”
Alexei reaches past me to slap him. “No names, dickwad.”
“Oh…”
“Oh. Yeah.” Alexei shouts and he slaps his comrade again. “Right? She heard you.”
Sascha sounds angry. Not teenage boy angry. Cold angry. “Man, are you fucking kidding? She was at the wedding, remember? She knows who we are. Now chill, for Chrissakes.”
“Okay. Okay. You’re right. I guess Bruno got me a bit stressed.”
Sascha was sarcastic, “You mean when he went off on a rant?”
“Yeah, you know.”
“Right. When he was ranting about us being sure that we didn’t use his name?”
“Yeah… Oh.”
“Man, chill, will you?” Sascha is close behind me. “You can bet your ass if she hadn’t worked it out already, she would have gotten there fast enough.” My head jerks as he yanks my hair. “Now let’s cut the r
e-bop. Make the call.”
But he’s pulling my head back. Back into his crotch. I can smell him.
Alexei glowers while he fishes out his phone. It gets darker like the lights went out. A figure fills the doorway. That big, that sure of himself, I know that it must be Vassily. The Child Soldier.
rom the nearest server’s station, I grab a tablet. Pulling the CCTV app on the screen, I select the cameras in the elevator and the ground level entrance. Armando and Ras, the two doormen are in their booth. They’re lying in a heap. I sling the straps of two AR-15s over my shoulder and dash to the elevator. All the way down I stare at the screen with that camera enlarged to fill the little tablet screen.
It looks like Ras is moving, but the image is too grainy to be sure. When I get out in the warm night air, I see them, and I still can’t tell. Bending down I shake Ras. His eyes flutter. A tang that’s both sweet and acrid wafts from his mouth. Chloroform.
I roll him off Armando. With my fingers on Armando’s neck, I’m relieved to find a pulse. I call Mikhail. Tell him our doormen need medical attention. At least they’re in one piece, although I’m guessing they took a couple of whacks before they got the chloroform.
Ras is rousing. Sitting up, rubbing his temple. And he’s starting to mumble. “Sorry, Boss.”
“Don’t worry, Ras. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Back on the tablet, I scroll the image on the camera backward. It’s only a couple of minutes back where two males are dragging a girl between them out of the elevator. The little fuckers ignore Ras and Armando on the ground. They pull her straight past and off into the night.
On foot, though. No vehicle. That means they were headed somewhere close by. And I know where that’s going to be.
~~
I never saw Vovo’s empty and dark like this. No lights inside, and nobody here. Nobody but Alexei and Sascha, standing. Katya between them in a steel chair. Tied and bound. Would I have come running so hard, without thinking, leaving the club at a time like this, would I have come running if it wasn’t her?
Seeing her trussed and squirming with rage in her eyes, my temperature rises and blood pumps hard in my veins. I raise the short rifles, one in each hand. Before I make a move, I have to check my grip. The sight of her distracted me. I want her too badly. It splits my focus. I take a breath.
I flex my fingers on the grips of the AR-15s.
Alexei is a shadow. He’s taking out a phone. He’s looking up as I step into the doorway.
I call out, “Are you okay, Katya?” She nods. Sascha stands behind her.
I had a gun on him before he even saw me. I step forward and ask, brightly, “You weren’t expecting company?” His hand goes back, toward his belt. In no hurry, I let off a burst from one of the rifles. One quick squeeze. Six rounds plow up the carpet by his feet.
Sascha pulls a pistol and jams it in Katya’s ear. No hesitation. I let two rounds off from the other AR. They both drill through the center of his shoulder. His arm flies out and back. The gun clatters away on the floor as he staggers backward. His right arm flaps. He spreads like starfish and bends back as he falls. When he hits the floor, he slams hard and crumples. He’s leaking blood like a clothes bag with a hole.
She is as cool as a lemon sorbet. I could eat her right now.
I tell Alexei, “Your playmate’s going to need the E.R. pretty fast.”
He doesn’t move.
Keeping my eyes on Alexei and Sascha, I get a quick look over Katya. Constrained by the straps and ropes and chains, her hot body is straining in ways that make me want to strain after her. But I meant to check her for injuries. That’s no less distracting. She seems unhurt, as far as I can tell. The gleam of mischief in her eye seems like a good sign.
The backs of Sascha’s heels drum and hammer on the floor.
Staying in the doorway, I tell Alexei, “You need to sling your weapons over there,” I point across the room with the other AR-15, “And then Sascha’s. Do that, right now. While you’re still not dead.” Stupid kid is thinking about it. I’ve told him the two ways it can go.
I simplify it some more for him. “You just have to decide, ‘Do I want to be dead. Or not.’ That’s your choice, Alexei.”
So, he slings two automatics of his own across the floor.
“Now Sascha’s.” he slumps, round-shouldered and slouching over to Sascha. First, he slings over the gun Sascha dropped. Then he and Sascha have a grumbling little argument. Which, by the sounds of their voices, I’d say Sascha almost wins.
I call out, “You know that he could bleed out in minutes, right?”
Sascha gives up another gun. Alexei slings it across the floor.
I walk over to him. Maneuver to keep the light behind me and in his eyes. Back him to the wall don’t get too close. Keep a position where I have a shot at him and at Sascha. Both lines of fire well clear of Katya. Sascha is rocking on the floor and pumping out gushes of blood. I’d say he has half an hour if he’s lucky.
I give Alexei a look down the barrel of the AR-15. That’s a discouraging sight, especially from close up. The acrid smell from the recent discharge helps focus his mind. “Who sent the men to my club?”
Alexei shakes his head, “I have no clue. Truth. We came for the girl. That’s all. All that smoke and gunfire surprised us as much as you. We were there to do our thing and we took the chance when we saw it, but I had no idea that was coming.”
“Smart rising gangsters that you were, you didn’t think to try and help, did you. Make yourselves some friends. Allies. Get some credit.” I shook my head. “Who sent you?” Sascha’s rocking changed rhythm. I watch out of the corner of my eye and shift the other AR-15 so it points at the center of his body.
Aiming the two rapid-fire rifles feels pretty rock star, I have to admit. I’m resisting the urge to spray both ways.
Slowly, unhurried, I remind Alexei, “Sascha is actually dying, you know.”
“Look I don’t want to say, alright.”
“Oh, Okay.” I put the barrel in his mouth. “Final answer?”
Suddenly he does want to say. “It’s Bruno, alright? We talked about it before he went away. He called from Vegas. Said what to do.”
Then everything slows down. Sascha curls up to sitting. He has both hands around a Colt. I squeeze the trigger on the AR that I have pointed at him. Four shots. Brrrap.
His body bounces up off the floor and arcs backward. A bright spray of blood fans out of his back. The Colt lets a stray shot off into the ceiling. A mirror shatters and showers sparkling shards down onto Sascha. His body shakes and twitches.
I’ve already turned back to Alexei. “He won’t need the E.R. now.”
Alexei shrugs. I push the barrel against his forehead, “All the same,” I tell him, “Take your friend with you while you fuck off.” He glowers at me, so I give his head another shove with the gun, “And do it with considerable fucking haste.”
Alexei looks pissed at me, but he stumbles over. He heaves the bloody corpse of his friend up onto his shoulder. “Other way,” I growl. “There’s a freight elevator. Lets you out in the alley out back.”
He struggles to get Sascha’s bleeding carcass over his shoulder. I chamber a round. The sound focusses Alexei’s attention. “And don’t leave him out on the fucking street.” I keep the gun on him as he staggers out, throwing a sulky glower back at me.