Manik

by Amo Jones

  On the way home, I turn in my seat and face Katiya. “Why did he show up?”

  She smirks. “I’m assuming by he you mean my brother?”

  I deadpan, “Yes, Kat.”

  She exhales. “I told him to, but that’s not even the mind-blowing part.”

  “What’s the mind-blowing part?” I ask, a little too eager to hear what she’s implying.

  “It’s the fact that he came.”

  She pulls her white Maserati into the parking lot outside our loft, turning the car off.

  I get out, shutting the door behind me. “Why did he come?”

  She stares at me, lifting her glasses up over her head and pushing her hair back, out of her face. “I don’t know, Beat.”

  Later that night, I’m getting ready for work when Kyle enters. “You’re lucky I love you and got your job back, Kermit.”

  He calls me Kermit because of my bright green eyes.

  “Okay, thank you for loving me.” I grin at him, brushing my hair into a high ponytail until the ends fall down and rest on my mid back.

  He rolls his eyes, just as Katiya pushes past him. “I’m going to come in too.”

  “Why?” Kyle asks, his eyes narrowed on her.

  “Because I like to drink?”

  He relaxes. “Of course, you do.”

  Katiya nudges her head at me. “Wanna have a drink after work?”

  “Beatrice doesn’t drink,” Kyle replies flatly. “I used to hate that she was so boring, but now I like it. It’s refreshing. How many girls do you know that don’t drink.”

  I slide the wand of my lip balm over my lips, ignoring the beginning of their bickering. I know that it’s almost always Kyle that starts it with her—I just don’t know why. Kyle has never had issues with anyone—ever. He’s extroverted and has thousands of friends, but right now, I can’t be bothered getting to the root of their issues. I’m hoping they’ll just figure it out on their own.

  Hopefully.

  “I think it’s great, but I also think occasional partying doesn’t hurt either,” Katiya snaps back. I plait my ponytail in a thick loose braid so it falls down my back and then I slip my shirt off, pulling my drawers open to find my uniform.

  Their fighting stops.

  I turn around to face them, putting my hands into the sleeves of my shirt. “Well, if all I have to do is take my shirt off to stop both of your fighting…”

  Katiya rolls her eyes, but Kyle winks at me. He’s always been flirty with me—the simple part of flirty—innocent. I don’t have to worry about him snapping me in half.

  “I’ll meet you downstairs, Kermit.”

  I nod, pulling my shorts down and slipping into the small little leather skirt that has a zipper going up the middle. At first, I hated the uniforms, but now I don’t care. Drunk people are just that—drunk. They’d flirt with an elephant if it was serving them drinks.

  “Are you okay?” Katiya asks, her eyes searching mine frantically.

  “I’m fine.” I yank my phone off the nightstand and smile at her. “I’ll see you later?”

  She nods, but something isn’t right with her. I’ll ask her about it later, so I push my phone into my bra and head downstairs where Kyle is waiting for me, swinging his keys around his finger. “Ready to bounce?”

  The music is pounding through the club, the bright neon blue and pink lights flashing to the sound. I’m pouring a shot of Grey Goose when Katiya stumbles back to the bar.

  “Okay!” she yells over the music, leaning into the counter.

  “What’s wrong, Kat?” I know she’s drunk, and maybe it’s shit of me to use this moment to try to extract information out of her—but I’m desperate.

  She stops, her eyes glassed over from all of the liquor she’s been packing. “Lemme ask you just one question…” She puts her finger up, her other hand flying to cover her mouth.

  “Okay, ask…” I flick the bottle back down, casting a quick look at Kyle to make sure he takes care of any new customers. He nods.

  Katiya leans over the bar. “Do you like fairytales or Marvel comics, our little Cub…?”

  “What?” I ask, my eyebrows etched in. What the hell is she talking about?

  “Just answer the question.” She gestures with her hands.

  “Fine.” I clear my throat. “I’ll go with Rapunzel because her life is sad.”

  Triumph fills her eyes as they focus on me completely. I took the bait. “See! You need a knight in shining armor. With Aeron, you don’t get a knight in shining armor, you get a villain strapped with AK’s. Are you prepared for that? To be the girl who turns on his emotions? Because let me tell you, Cub, the thing with people who lock up their emotions? When they finally do release them, they lose control because they don’t know how to grasp everything that they’re feeling. Do you want to be the girl who unlocks that bolted door?”

  I let out a long breath, my eyes searching hers carefully. She’s been keeping that in for a while, I can see it in the release of her shoulders. “Well, I—”

  “—Because it takes a certain type of woman to handle someone like my brother, and Beatrice, you can’t just be all light, you also need some smoke, some darkness, and I really don’t think you have the right amount of darkness to be able to carry the light he needs.”

  Ouch.

  She leaves, taking her drink with her and the music pounds through my ears again, like the last minute was just her and I talking.

  A hand wraps around my waist and I jerk, turning around to face Kyle.

  “Wow,” Kyle says, his face worried. “It’s just me, Kermit. You okay?”

  Chills break out over my skin and I shake my head. “I don’t know. I really just…” My eyes fly up to the VIP section Manik and Lenny were at the first night I saw him.

  The night it all started.

  My chest tightens and my breathing quickens. It’s as though there’s no oxygen, just sweaty bodies of drunk humans.

  “I need air,” I mutter, shoving past Kyle and pushing open the “staff only” entrance before exiting the back of the bar. Pushing through a couple of stray bartenders and dancers, I go all the way to the back exit, shoving the door open with my eyes closed. The cool air slaps me in the face and I suck in the crisp breeze. Shutting the door behind myself, I lean back against the door and look up at the sky.

  “Beatrice Kennedy,” a voice says and I still, looking ahead of myself.

  Oh God. Vladimir Pakhan Romanov—aka Aeron’s dad. He looks almost exactly the same as he did that night, with the same fedora and trench coat, and with a cigar hanging out of his mouth.

  “Yes?” I clear my throat as he moves forward. With every step closer he takes, I want to take one hundred back. But I don’t, and I won’t. That will only prove Katiya right that I’m weak—which is basically what she had said, if I strip back everything else and get to the essence of her words.

  “I’ll cut the shit, Beatrice. You’re not to jump into bed with my son.”

  My mouth drops open and then closes. Once I’ve finally regained the nerve to sort out my reply, I say, “What? We’re not… nothing has happened.”

  “—Yet,” he answers for me, narrowing his eyes. He rolls the cigar around in his mouth, the bright orange exit light and the few street lamps the only lighting I have.

  “Did you come all the way here to tell me this? Why?” I ask, tilting my head. I’m intrigued by this, unless of course he means because Aeron is famous and rich and I’m a lost pirate searching for my next chest of treasure.

  “How was your childhood, Beatrice?”

  “Fine, mostly, why?” I ask again. What a weird question. He seems to ponder my answer for a few seconds and then shakes his head. “Interesting.”

  He drops the cigar to the ground and steps on it. “Don’t get involved with him, Beatrice. You will regret it.”

  He leaves, walking back to his waiting limo as I’m left cemented in my spot, speechless. This is by far the strangest family I’ve ever met, bu
t then again, I’ve not met many of them. Tired, and feeling a little annoyed at everyone tonight, I take my phone out of my front pocket and unlock it. My finger hovers over the unknown number that texted me—the one I know belongs to Aeron.

  I hit call and then bring it to my ear.

  “Bounce”—Rittz, Twista

  My phone starts vibrating on the kitchen counter and I pick it up, wiping the sweat from my face. “What?”

  There’s a slight pause. “Ah, Aeron? It’s Beatrice.”

  I sip my water. “I know.”

  Another pause. Bet she’s fucking cringing right now. I smirk. “Somethin’ I can help you with, Cub? You know, since it’s pushing one in the morning…” I know that this isn’t a booty call, because Beatrice isn’t one of those girls. She’s nothing like those girls. Fucking wish she was, it would sure as shit make staying away from her that much easier. I hoped she was…

  “What?” She sounds shocked. Cute. “No!” She then tries to defend herself.

  “Alright, so what do I owe the pleasure?”

  She clears her throat. “I’m really confused by a few things and I was hoping you could maybe help me out.”

  I look around the kitchen. “Well, speak.”

  She clears her throat again. “Um, I was hoping that it could be something we could talk about in person, maybe?”

  I chuckle. “Yeah alright, Cub. Come over tomorrow and bring my sister with you.”

  “Okay,” she exhales. “What time?”

  I lick my lips. “Ten.”

  “In the morning?”

  “At night.”

  She pauses. “Ah, okay. I’ll see you then.”

  “Beat?” I add before she hangs up.

  “Yeah?” Her voice is husky over the phone, and for a split, very delusional minute, I wonder if she wants me.

  “Wear something sexy.”

  I hang up, tossing the rest of my water into the sink and making my way up to my room. I know Dad has said not to go near her. I figure, if he was serious about me staying away from her and the reason was valid, then he’d tell me, but he hasn’t, which has me believing his reason is shit.

  I knew that when she was here that I wouldn’t force any shit on her. I’m not that man, never will be. It wasn’t that I didn’t know she was attractive—her looks were the first thing you noticed about her, with her ass being the second, but I had zero interest in her because I knew that was probably what she wanted. To be ravaged, fucked and slapped around in bed. Slowly, she schooled my shit when it came to that and proved I was wrong. I have girls dropping to their knees in front of me at every turn—every girl but Beat. Since that night, I knew she was different. Not because she didn’t know who I was, but because she knew and didn’t care. Truly gave no fucks. So, I tested her, made a couple of subtle advances. Nothing too obvious, and even though I saw that she was fighting with what to do, the essence of her thought process seemed to want to fight me. Until she spread eagle for me on my kitchen counter. I still have her taste lingering on the tip of my tongue.

  After a quick shower, I slip into bed and my phone dings with a text.

  Kat: Ae, unlezs you’re serious about her, can you levvve hr alne plz.

  I roll my eyes.

  Me: How much have you had to drink?

  My sister is a grammar Nazi. When she drunk texts all her side pieces, it’s not the content of what she texted them that upsets her the next day, it’s the spelling and the grammar.

  Kat: Enough to know you’re both stupid.

  I leave my phone on the nightstand and toss and turn for one hundred years until I finally drift to sleep.

  “We’re up to ten songs, Ae! Fuck me, and they’re fucking good. The best.” Lenny is on his phone, texting all the people he has no doubt invited tonight. We’ve cut off the album at ten with another two for features. It’s a good number, twelve songs on an album. It doesn’t give the listener an overload while keeping them hungry for more.

  “Ghetto Cowboy” by Bone Thugs starts playing and I tie my bandana to the front of my head (yeah, the very same), my somewhat short hair flopping over it. We’re all kicking it near the pool as workers start piling in with kegs and food. We always have a party after we finish an album—it’s a ritual and it’s almost always last minute because we never know how long we’re going to take to push out an album. TMZ will no doubt be the first fuckers to break the story tonight that it’s finished and then we’ll have a whole bunch of people trying to jump the fence to get in.

  Lenny flicks his wrist down my body. “You working out more or some shit? You’re almost as big as me.”

  I laugh, tilting my head back. I’ve got no shirt on with nothing but my loose ripped denim shorts that hang to just above my knee when they hit low-ride—not low, low, just enough to hug below the band of my Calvin Klein briefs. “Hell nah. You’re the beast.”

  He shakes his head. “You say that like you don’t have a pet one.”

  I ignore him and look toward the door as more people come in. I grin, getting up from my chair to welcome the people I can be fucked talking to.

  “Sad Song”—Twisted Insane

  Why am I doing this? Why am I even considering Aeron and his crazy ideas? Yes, that’s right, because I need to tell him about his dad and the stuff Katiya said. I just need to know why I feel like there’s something someone isn’t telling me. Why Vladimir took it upon himself to come to my work and basically threaten me.

  I’m brushing my hair and letting it sit in natural waves down my back when Kat walks in, heels on with a little white lace bodysuit and tight jeans. She looks amazing. Her hair is straight and flat, hanging around her jaw in a perfect razor cut.

  “Wow!” she breathes out, tilting her head.

  “Don’t do that…” I murmur, turning back around to look at myself in the mirror.

  “Do what?” she asks softly.

  “Do the head tilt thing. You look like your brother when you do it.”

  She chuckles and ducks behind me, her eyes coming to mine in the mirror. “Good, maybe I’ll get laid. I’m really hoping he dies when he sees you. At least that way, I’ll know how he really feels about you and quit playing a fool.”

  My eyes go to what I’m wearing. Tight white skinny jeans with the knees torn open, a little red crop top that gives my boobs way too much viewing time before it ties behind my back in a big bow.

  Katiya hands me my pointy toe red stilettos, and I take them from her, loosening the straps and slipping them on my feet one at a time. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Am I going to do makeup?”

  I flinch. “Um, okay. I guess.”

  She pushes down on my shoulders and I flop onto the bed as she pulls out all of her makeup from her bag.

  I gulp. “Please don’t make me look stupid.”

  She glares at me. “Do I look stupid?”

  I smile. “No, okay good point.”

  She starts on the foundation and continues with the contouring and then eyes. She wants my eyes dark-rimmed, said something about the bright green standing out more behind the black—so I allow it. My stomach nudges in anticipation, which is stupid. I’m going back to the house I was locked up in for a week, caged in the basement like a wild animal. Maybe I do have a mild case of Stockholm Syndrome. Who knows.

  I let Katiya work her magic, sitting quietly as she does. “Can I ask you a question?”

  She pauses, makeup brush in her hand. “Sure.”

  “Has Aeron had any girlfriends?” Okay, that came out a lot more jealously than I intended.

  A sly smile spreads over her mouth. “Define girlfriend…” She continues doing my makeup. “The answer is no. He hasn’t. Aeron lets girls bounce around on his dick for a while, but then he bounces them right back off. It’s his MO.”

  “Huh,” I answer absently. “Not sure if that gave him points or took them away.”

  She drops her hands. “Beat, please don’t—just…�
� She breathes out heavily, picking up the mascara. “Okay let me ask you a question. Are you okay with not having love?”

  I quirk my eyebrow. “Nothing has even happened with he and I yet—and it probably won’t. He just likes playing with me and I, ashamedly, like the tricks he plays…”

  “Right now…” Katiya adds, brushing the wand through my lashes. “You like his tricks right now because he has only shown you level one. Just please—don’t give too much of yourself, because Aeron is greedy, and he won’t give any part of you back.”

  We pull into the long driveway, me driving Katiya’s expensive car. It took me three times to figure out how to even start it, let alone driving it here. It was a nightmare. We were supposed to bring my car, but it chose that very moment to not start, so I was stuck playing with the buttons of Katiya’s Maserati. I don’t see the appeal. Humans like to complicate things. Things like keyless entry and push-to-start cars.

  We both get out and make our way to the front door. We can hear the music blaring from the driveway, but the closer I got, the louder not just the music, but the laughter and voices got too.

  I can feel my social anxiety slowly seeping into my pores. “Maybe I should just go home…”

  Katiya’s hand flies out and she pulls me into her. “And miss the opportunity of teasing the fuck out of my brother with that outfit? Hell. No. Come on.” I feel like maybe I’m stuck between a sibling war.

  She drags me through the front door, shoving through the swarm of bodies who are walking around.

  Girls. A lot of girls. Dressed in bikinis and—some with no bikini top on.

  “What…the…”

  Katiya squeezes my hand. “Just don’t look in dark corners either.”

  Yeah, it’s safe to say that this was definitely a bad idea. Damn, Katiya. Being back here stirs something unfamiliar inside of me. Not upsetting, but…something else. Something I’m not sure I want to look at or acknowledge right now.