With This ring

by Le Carre, Georgia

  Furious, I turned around, and my hand went on a rampage of its own. It struck him, hard across the face.

  Everything stopped.

  My blood felt like it was steaming in my veins, my heart was pounding hard enough for me to hear it, the breath, going in and out of my nostrils came fast and furious.

  The blow had turned his face aside and he held it still in that position as though he could not believe what had just happened. Neither could I.

  There were innumerable lines in this world that would have been forgivable to cross. Hitting Maxim was not one of them. I turned around then and pounded my fist against the emergency stop button. It was only after I did that I realized what the button did. It didn't stop the elevator to let you out, but stopped it to keep you trapped. I was losing my mind. I punched the stop button again.

  “You are a very problematic woman,” he said from behind. “All this because I gave you the million dollars that I promised I would?”

  “Ever since I’ve known you Maxim, I’ve truly hated you, but this time around you’ve really behaved despicably.”

  He straightened and adjusted the sleeve of his suit jacket. “You almost killed me? What do you call that?”

  “What you deserve,” I retorted. “How I wish that I hadn’t missed your heart. Oh, hang on. I didn’t miss. You just don’t have a heart.”

  It was impossible not to see the rage that was burning in his eyes.

  “You’re a hypocrite, Freya. You say one thing with your mouth and then do another. Why exactly are you offended about this money? Wasn’t this what we discussed? What you requested? In fact, what you need to get your business off the ground? If you weren’t so fucking proud you’d take it and do something great with your life. For both you and Britney. You’re holding her back, Freya.”

  I couldn’t respond. My entire body was trembling. I wasn’t offended. I was hurt.

  He took a step closer to me. “You’ve just hit me,” he said in a tone that sent shivers down my spine. “A lot of people have been killed for much less.”

  “Are you threatening me?” I choked out.

  He locked his gaze with mine. “We’re both vulnerable now. We’ve now both been backed into corners that we never want to be in. So let me ask you… why does this offend you so much? Why does it hurt?”

  My head fell. He might as well have been asking me if I had feelings for him. He took another step closer to me, and I staggered backwards until my back hit the steel wall.

  “Maxim,” I breathed, hating how weak I sounded... how spineless. But in that moment, the earnestness in his eyes… it felt as if something invaluable was being dangled in front of me. I told myself that it could be a trick. If I reached out to try to grab it, it would be snatched away and I would be mocked.

  So why wasn’t I breathing... and why did I want it so bad?

  “Answer me,” he demanded. “You have feelings for me, otherwise the money wouldn’t have hurt so much. You gave me a piece of your heart when you slept with me, didn’t you? You became mine... solely mine.”

  It felt like I had been hit on the head with a block. All I could do was pretend to be unaffected. To scoff. “And you? Do I have a piece of your heart?”

  “Yes, you do,” he said softly. “The question is would that be enough for you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m not an ordinary man and I won’t give you an ordinary life. There will be bodyguards at the zoo.”

  The elevator stopped then, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I glanced to see that we had arrived at his floor. I swallowed the lump in my throat. The doors swished open. He walked out of the elevator and stood looking at me.

  I didn’t do anything and the doors closed on him. I told myself I had done the right thing.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Freya

  “Britney, what was your first big dream?” I asked.

  I was standing by the window in our office, a steaming cup of coffee in my hands. Below, an elderly Asian woman was squatting by a corner of the street, with a cigarette in her hand. She was watching a dread-locked man playing a guitar.

  “What?” Britney asked.

  I turned around to see she was completely focused on her computer screen. She had not even heard me. “What was your first dream?” I asked again.

  “Uh... other than being one of those kids Barney used to play with, I wanted to be a top chef. My mom was big on child labor so she had me in a helper tower from the minute I could well, stand. She had me mixing flour and cracking eggs and munching on dough. That’s why I grew up so chubby.”

  I smiled at the image she painted. “Why did you change your mind?”

  She laughed. “I realized I didn’t give a fuck about cooking. What about you? What was your first big dream?”

  I smiled. “I just realized it a few days ago.”

  “What?” She laughed.

  “Yeah. My first dream was to be in love,” I answered.

  She looked at me as if I was speaking Chinese. “What?”

  “Yeah, I was fourteen and I wanted to fall totally, and deeply, and absolutely in love with someone. At that time, I had just finished reading my first harlequin about this broken actor who finally found love in the arms of his high school sweetheart. Somewhat cringey now that I think about it, but back then, it made me want to find that one person that would love me beyond anything else.”

  She began to cackle. “You’re joking, right? You? Love? You don’t even fucking date.”

  “It’s not that I don’t date. I didn’t have the time. I was busy with the idea of setting up a business.”

  “You were too busy to date? Yeah, pull the other one.”

  “Okay, maybe I wasn’t too busy to date, but I had my dream at the back of my mind. It was either I got the right guy and everything or nothing. I’d never settle for anything less.”

  “I think with you though, it’s worse than you not wanting to ‘settle for something less’. I seriously doubt if someone you wanted came along right now that you’d even give him a glance much less agree to him."

  I returned my gaze to hers. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re too closed off, Freya. I used to think that you were just being stubborn but now I’m beginning to understand all that Mafia/Bratva stuff must have made you wary. Which is not a bad thing in itself, but sometimes I wish you’d allow yourself to just jump at the opportunities life throws at you, even if it will be a mistake.”

  Actually, I did jump and ended up falling down a great big hole.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Maxim

  “We got a lead on Freya’s attacker,” Levan said, placing two photos in front of me.

  I stared at the two heavily tattooed men.

  “Well, first of all brother, you have a pretty extensive hate list.”

  “Get to the fucking point,” I prompted.

  He chuckled and pointed to the man in the first picture. “Well, this one is part of the MLBOA gang. We had nothing on him at first … until, they got this picture of him last night.” He slapped another photo on my desk.

  The man he referred to had his face slightly turned away from sight, and a baseball cap sitting low on his head so it was almost impossible to make out his feature.

  “That’s Boris Arakas. Now he’s the Death Angels’ Sergeant at Arms. Ring any bells?”

  I thought about it. “Isn’t that the club house we had Detective Clay raid for Sarah Dale’s grandson?”

  “Exactly. His brother was killed in the raid and I have it on good authority that he holds you responsible.”

  “Hmm.” It was all starting to come together, but something else occurred to me.

  “We reasoned, especially with the attacks on Freya instead of you, that this was personal. He wanted you to suffer the same loss and pain he did.”

  “Seems like the closest lead we have until something new pops up,” I said thoughtfully.

  “The thing
is I want to clear this mess up before I leave. The fastest way to do it is to dangle some sort of bait in front of them.”

  “Why don’t you leave? You’ve done good work until now, but I can easily handle this on my own.”

  “No. I leave when it’s all over,” he insisted stubbornly.

  “You keep finding reasons not to. I hope you don’t plan on disappointing Bianca.”

  He rose to his feet. “Not on my life or yours. And how the fuck am I supposed to leave with a target on your back?”

  I sighed. “After you resolve this one, another will pop up. It’s the curse of our trade.”

  “Well you can handle those on your own then, but this, I need wrapped up for my own peace of mind.” His lips twitched with amusement. “Besides, I need to see how you sort things out with Freya.”

  I ignored his mention of her and went on. “So what’s the plan?”

  He produced a key and tossed it on the desk. “You, are going to move. The new jersey compound is too protected. We need to give them clear access to you.”

  I grinned. “When you said bait, I didn’t think you meant me.”

  “This is the only way to lure them out.”

  I picked up the gold key chain and key and gave it a once over. “Where?”

  “Midtown, 172 Madison Avenue. 63rd floor.”

  “Okay.”

  “Am I ever going to find out why Freya lost her shit on you last week?”

  “Get out of here. I have work to do.”

  His laughter rang out until the door shut on him.

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Freya

  I placed the empty tray down and picked up my vibrating phone. It was a quiet night at the bar so I had brought my phone behind the bar with me.

  “Aldie?”

  “Hey,” she greeted excitedly. “I’m at Bianca’s place, how are you?”

  “Um, I’m great,” I replied. “You?”

  “I’m doing okay.”

  She laughed. “I heard about what happened at the Ivankov’s building,” she drawled, and I felt my heart sink to my stomach. That episode was going to haunt me for life.

  “Bianca’s too polite to ask but I’m dying of curiosity. Why did you get so mad? Why did Maxim have to carry you away like some scene in a romantic comedy? And what was all the money about? Also, I am butt hurt that you didn’t come over to my place to rain some down on me, but I’ll try my best not to hold that against you.”

  I couldn’t help the grin that slipped onto my face. Aldie was a busybody, but a loveable one. One I couldn’t resist.

  I looked around. It was still pretty dead. “Why don’t you come over to my bar and I’ll make you a drink… on the house. To make up for not raining cash at your place.”

  “I’m hailing a taxi as I speak!”

  Forty minutes later she waved vigorously to me from the door. I set her Dirty Martini on the counter and she took her seat opposite me. She had an air of excitement around her as if she couldn’t wait to hear my story. I leaned on the counter while she took a sip of her drink.

  “Thank you, babe,” she said. “I needed that. Now, quickly tell me what happened before I burst from curiosity.”

  I wasn’t really ready to talk about any of it yet, but I figured talking to someone objective could only help. I spelled it out simply. “It was kind of a joke that if I slept with Maxim he would pay me a million dollars. I slept with him, and he transferred a million dollars into my bank account.”

  She went still, the hand holding her toothpick with an olive stabbed on it, suspended in the air.

  “Which part are you appalled by?”

  “Uh… oh… uh…” She shook her head to get her brain working again. “You… did you… a million dollars? As in… seven figures? As in real money?”

  “Yup,” I agreed crisply.

  Her hand covered her mouth as she stared at me. “They always say you have to watch out for the quiet ones.”

  “Just a second,” I said, and walked away to take a customer’s order for a beer. After serving him I returned to her and by then she had processed the information.

  “Okay. Um … why did he send it to you if it was a joke?”

  “Because he’s a piece of shit.”

  She opened her mouth, and shut it again.

  ‘How much did you disperse that day?”

  “About a quarter of it,” I replied.

  She began to fan herself with her hand. “Where’s the rest of it?”

  “Still in my account, but not for much longer.”

  “I can’t believe this,” she gasped.

  “Neither could I,” I agreed sourly.

  “Well, mine is for a different reason. What I can’t believe is… you threw all that money into the air when you still have to pull shifts in a bar to make ends meet.”

  I shrugged. “I guess the only money that excites me is that I make myself, no matter how little.”

  “Right. Makes complete sense. Now, if you really have no interest in Maxim can you put in a good word for me?”

  “Aldie!” I scolded.

  She couldn’t hide her blush. “I’m sorry but have you taken a good look at Maxim? The first time I saw him I almost went into a coma.”

  “Yes, he is hot,” I admitted.

  “And tough, and loyal. Sure you have absolutely no interest in him?”

  I bit my lip. I hadn’t even confessed how I felt about Maxim to Britney. It was too confusing. Too intense. Too crazy.

  “Bianca once said that she wondered what kind of woman would ever be enough to attract and keep Maxim. I wondered the same too, but now … especially with that scene you pulled at his workplace, you both actually seem perfect for each other.”

  I had to serve another customer and when I got back I tactfully steered the conversation to a different topic. When she left an hour later, I mulled over her words.

  During my break I went outside and called Maxim. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest, that I was sure if he picked up, I wouldn’t be able to speak. He picked up on the second ring.

  “Apologize,’ I said. “Apologize for sending me that money.”

  A small silence followed. Then he shocked me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  My heart stopped.

  “I’m very sorry about that. I wasn’t trying to degrade you. In my world you keep your word.” He stopped and I knew that he wouldn’t be going any further. Even that little glimpse of him being vulnerable was something hardly anyone ever saw.

  “Can I see you? Sometime soon?” I asked. “To … er … talk.”

  “Talk? Okay, how about tomorrow? In the office? I’ll shift things around to make time for you.”

  “I’m never coming to your office again, in my lifetime.”

  He laughed softly. The sound was low and deep, and it rumbled through me like good liquor.

  I held my breath. “How about tonight?”

  “You’re at work now, aren’t you?”

  Of course, he was aware of my every movement. “I mean afterwards. Will it be too late?”

  “I’ll wait up,” he said. “But I’m no longer in Jersey. I have a place in Midtown.”

  I noted that whiff of danger in his voice. I was coming to like it way too much. “Oh, ah okay then.”

  I wanted to ask why, but I didn’t have to because he offered up the information.

  “We’re trying to smoke out who’s behind the attacks. Better chance of doing that if I’m perceived to have less security around me.”

  My stomach roiled at the danger involved in their tactic, but I kept my concern to myself.

  “When you come over can you be as inconspicuous as possible?”

  “Oh, okay. You mean, I should come dressed as someone else?”

  He laughed again and my heart soared. It was rare communicating with him in such a light-hearted manner.

  “You couldn’t come as someone else if you tried for a year, Freya.”

  “Wh
at is that supposed to mean?” I demanded immediately.

  “Maybe one day I’ll tell you. Look, I gotta go. I’ll send you the address. See you later.”

  I ended the call and gave a little skip of joy.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Freya

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCC_b5WHLX0

  At twenty minutes to two in the morning, my co-workers and I ordered pizza. The moment it arrived at the bar, it was pounced on by them.

  I turned to pay the pizza guy and noticed his cap. It was scuffed and painted in red and white with Johnny’s pizza stamped in front of it. Apart from that he had a plain black bomber jacket on. Mine would do, but the helmet, I needed to have.

  “How much will you take for the cap?” I asked.

  “Uh,” he was stumped by the question.

  At the end of our strange discussion I walked away with his old busted cap, and he with an extra $20.00 tip.

  I arrived at the high-rise residential building in midtown Manhattan and with my cap pulled low, I quickly went into the building. I was greeted by the night porter and upon the confirmation of my visit, I rode the elevator to the 63rd floor.

  The building was finished with marble floors and gigantic centerpieces. It stank of extreme wealth. I saw my reflection in the mirror and couldn’t believe how shabby I looked in those surroundings. Neither could I believe I was once again going to the man that I’d sworn I hated to the depths of my soul.

  Life was sometimes such a sick, twisted bitch.

  I arrived at his door and knocked. The busted old hat was still on my head and for a moment, I thought to take it off, but I couldn’t decide fast enough because the door suddenly clicked open… and there he was!

  He was wearing only his pajama trousers, and it instantly scrambled my brain. In the soft yellow lights of his apartment his skin glowed. I swallowed hard at the sight of the pure slabs of muscle and the strength radiating from them. When I saw the fairly healed bullet wound I had given him on his chest it made me sad all over again. I wanted to reach out to touch it, but he quickly brought me back down to earth.