"I trust you Lindsay." Vasily said. "You tell me all is secret between us. I trust you. Now take Piotr with you, go get money. Then everything okay."
Lindsay nodded and Piotr put his gun away.
If ever a story she had worked on had been cursed, this was the one.
********************
Outside on the gritty streets of Southeast DC Lindsay went to get into her own beat up old Ford but Piotr pulled her into his mafia pimp-mobile instead.
"You drive." He said.
She put the car in gear and pulled out into the street, wondering where the hell exactly she was going to go. Marco was as broke as she was. The company was essentially shutting down although he was trying to paint the move as temporary and described it as 'streamlining' everyone knew it was all but the end. Most the office furniture was rented and was being returned, the IT servers were going to Marco's house, files and documents were all being warehoused. If she was lucky she might find her boss helping out with sorting and packing things up, but he would hardly be in a position to hand over one thousand dollars.
"Piotr," she said, "isn't there some other way we can resolve this? I know what I said to Vasily but the truth is that I need more time to come up with this money."
"Only two ways." He said. "You go find money now or you go back to Vasily. Now. You pick."
"Okay, okay." She said. "Then I've got to pull over."
"No pull over. Drive."
"I need to call my boss. He won’t have that kind of cash on him. I need to let him know so he can have it ready."
Piotr didn't answer.
"Piotr. I need to call him, do you hear me?"
"Okay, pull over. No bullshit. You make call, then we go."
She nodded and pulled in to the sidewalk. Her heart was racing, her palms slick with sweat on the steering wheel.
Was this her plan? Was she going to do something here? She knew from personal experience what these people were capable of and while she had never feared for herself in the past, ever since the day Nena had come into her world staying alive had slowly grown to become a priority above all else. Her niece had already lost two adults from her life. She didn’t plan to be the next one.
She still hadn’t taken out her phone and Pitor was beginning to get nervous. He reached across her, stabbed the central locking button, then reached into his pocket and pointed his pistol at her through his jacket.
"Make fucking call." He said menacingly. "No bullshit."
Her hand trembled as she reached into her pocket and found her phone. Piotr watched her like a psychotic hawk, waiting for any sign of 'bullshit'.
She held up the phone and began scrolling down through her address book to find….who? Marco? What would she even say to him? She passed down through the As, the Bs and Cs, her vision was beginning to close in, the cruel pressure across her chest threatening to shut down her breathing.
The first name in D was Dale.
Dale Hargrave.
Her thumb hovered over the name.
When they had 'dated' he had always told her to call him, no matter what, no matter what happened between them and no matter how things went with her story. If she needed help, he would be there.
She tapped the screen with a feather light touch and then watched the call connect.
Please God, please, please, please God--
"Dale Hargrave."
She slammed the phone to her ear.
"Hi boss it's Lindsay."
There was a pause.
"I'm on my way downtown and I have a bill to pay. Can you have one thousand dollars ready for me? In cash?"
On the other end of the line Dale had taken a deep breath of relief on hearing Lindsay's voice. He had been taking steps to get her closer to him again but the last thing he had expected was to get a call from her on his personal line. Not this quickly and not without an 'incentive' of some kind to induce her. But what the hell was she talking about? 'Boss'? One thousand dollars in cash? It flashed through him like a jolt from of electricity.
She's in trouble.
His sharp mind kicked into high gear as he took a breath to get into his 'game-on' zone. Trouble meant leverage and leverage meant the woman of his current obsessions flat on her back begging for more.
"Are you sure that's all you need?" He said.
"One thousand is fine. Can you meet me at the AltNews main office in a half an hour?"
"I'll be there. And I'll pick you up later at eight."
No free lunch. She gritted her teeth. Even now he was still angling to get into her pants. He never gave up on her, no matter what she did to him, no matter what lies she told. A well of tears began to surge up in her and she had to breathe hard to choke them back down.
"We can talk about that later." She said.
"It's a date or forget about your thousand dollars."
God damn it.
"Okay. See you in thirty." She ended the call and felt her body relax. She had saved herself and she had saved Nena but her so-called crusade for truth was dead in the water. Once again she had become the story. She would use his money to bail herself out and then where would that leave her? Maybe it was time throw in the towel, get into bed with the devil and see how the other half lived - the half of humanity that looked out for themselves and their family first and didn't give a damn about integrity.
"Get going." Piotr growled at her.
"Cool it Shestyorka." She said, addressing him with the lowest ranking title possible for a Russian mobster. He looked at her for a second and then delivered a short, sharp slap to the side of her head that made her see stars.
"Drive." He said.
She shook her head and started the car.
I'm so sorry Dale. So, so sorry. Please God, just look after Dale and Nena, please. I'll do anything you want if you keep them safe. I'll ditch this stupid job, just keep them safe.
*******************
Forty minutes later they were parked outside the building that housed the soon to be vacant offices of AltNews. Removal crew guys were entering and leaving constantly with arm loads of furniture.
"Why we wait here bitch?" Piotr hissed. "Go inside. Get money now." He shouted. He had waited five minutes already. It was the extreme edge of his very short limit.
Lindsay gripped the steering wheel but didn’t move. There was no point in going inside. If she did that then the game was already over.
Come on Dale. Come on. Where the hell are you?
The feeling of slowly choking to death was fast closing in on her again.
A tap on the passenger side window made Piotr turn around. A burly man with a smiling face peered into the car. He indicated with one thick, gloved finger for Piotr to lower the window down.
"Fuck. Off." The Mafioso said.
The man tried the door but it was locked. A wave of fury went through the mobster.
"I told you fuck off." He shouted through the window at the stranger.
Dale was watching from across the street. There had clearly been something weird about the phone call, so as a precaution he had brought two of his people with him and decided to appraise the situation before handing over what was essentially, a paltry sum of cash. He had also contacted the detail he had shadowing Nena and her babysitter to make sure that everything was okay with them too.
One look at Piotr and it was clear that something very unpleasant was going down. The car was locked and Lindsay looked very, very scared. While his guy continued to pull on the passenger door Dale walked across the street and into Lindsay's view on the other side. Her face was full of desperate relief when she saw him. No man had ever looked so good as he did at that moment. He walked over to the car but she started shaking her head. She needed to get out first or Piotr could easily grab the money and then just drive away with her, but Dale wasn't taking the hint. He just kept on coming until he was right up alongside her window. He smiled to calm her down and then tapped loudly, causing the furious Piotr to look around at him. He had
been about to take out his pistol to threaten the intruder on his own side and now his attention was split in two.
"He's here." Lindsay said. "That's my boss and he has the money."
Dale smiled and then stood up straight again, gesturing silently for them to follow him into the building.
"Open window." Piotr shouted. "Tell him come back."
"The money is inside." Lindsay said, thinking on her feet.
"Open fucking window."
"Hey buddy, can you roll the damn window down?" The burly man on the passenger side shouted. "I need to ask you something."
Piotr hit the button to lower the window and jutted his pistol into the man's face.
"Fuck. Off." He shouted. The man stood back with his hands in the air and Lindsay took her chance to jump from the car. Piotr swung around again and it was enough for Dale's guy to punch him in the back of the head through the open window, then lock him in a choke hold from outside the car. The mobster's gun flailed about but didn't go off. Within seconds Dale's other guy had taken Lindsay's place in the driver's seat and twisted Piotr's wrist mercilessly to make him drop his gun.
He was screaming in Russian but the choke hold made him barely audible and then he lost consciousness. It was all over in a matter of seconds.
Outside Lindsay ran straight into Dale's arms and the bear hug he gave her was the most terrifyingly beautiful thing she had ever experienced. She melted into a crazy mixture of love, adoration, relief and the desire to bed and ruin him utterly at the very soonest opportunity. The man set off a dangerous cocktail of human emotion and raw hormonal lust on a bad day - add to that this knight-in-shining-armor-holding-out-for-a -hero rescue from the mob and it was enough to blow her mind. She reached her head up, craning her neck to find his mouth and pressed her lips to his. Electricity raced through her. She molded her body to his, seeking him out in every fold, every chiseled flexing muscle of his powerful body.
"Dale…thank God…thank God you came…."
He lifted his head up away from hers and looked down.
"You can thank me later." He said in a strained voice. Even he was not immune to that old male weakness - a grateful, desperate, emotional female molded against him could mean one thing only: instant, raging, uncontrollable hard on.
He peeled her away from him although every fiber of his being was urging him to cart her off to the nearest secure location and fuck her mercilessly while all that hot, wet feminine gratitude was still at its most intense.
Instead, exercising the self-control of a cloister full of Trappist monks, he strode to the car, walked to the passenger side and got into the back seat directly behind Piotr. Lindsay followed instantly, pushing in beside her hero. Piotr was still stunned, angry, ashamed and scared. If he returned from such a simple job without the boss's grand in cash there would be Russian Mafia hell to pay.
Dale tapped him on the back of the head but he didn’t move.
"Who's the thousand bucks for?" The billionaire said in the deep, commanding voice that made blue chip CEOs sit up and listen.
"Fuck. You." Piotr hissed in his thick Russian accent.
"Just give him the money." Lindsay said to Dale. "I'll pay it back to you, I swear it. Just let this go"
"He's Russian Mafia." Dale's guy in the front seat said, lifting up Piotr's hand briefly to reveal the blurred, blue eight-pointed star between his thumb and forefinger."
Dale leaned in close to the Mafioso's ear and then took out the envelope in his pocket that contained the money. He slapped it over onto the Mafioso's chest.
"Take it." He said. "Give it to your boss and then disappear. Do you understand?"
Piotr laughed and took the envelope.
"I understand newspaperman. You pay. Everybody pay."
Dale slipped his thick forearm around Piotr's neck and moved closer to his ear.
"I'm the one who made Boyevik disappear." He whispered.
Piotr laughed again.
"Don't try to scare me American. You kill me now or you go fuck yourself. You belong to us now - you are bitch of Russian Mafia."
Dale exchanged a look with his two bodyguards and then slid the envelope back over the mobster's shoulder and returned it to his pocket.
"No problem." He said. "I know I can't scare a tough guy like you. Go back and tell your boss you failed. I'm sure he'll be very understanding."
"Give money now or I come for you. Personally." Piotr said with sudden desperation.
Dale placed the tip of his left index finger on the top of Piotr's head and began to caress it slowly down towards the back of the mobster's neck. Piotr jerked forward.
"Fuck off American gay. Cocksucker." He spat.
Dale lifted his hand away and then returned the stuffed envelope to the relieved Mafioso's.
"Take some pictures of him." Dale said to his bodyguards. "Identify him for me. If he shows up anywhere near Lindsay then send him to his friend Boyevik. I'm sure he could use the company."
The bodyguard reached into Piotr's pocket and took out his wallet.
"Well he goes by the name of Piotr." He said.
"That was easy." Dale replied. "Let's take note that Piotr is terrified of getting into trouble with his boss and has issues with his own repressed homosexuality."
"Fuck you." Piotr shouted.
"Oh no," Dale replied. "Fuck you, my friend." He pushed the mobster's head forwards again. "Come on people, let's move it out. We're finished with this lowlife."
They had just left the car and the shaken Piotr when Marco came down the steps of the building carrying a cardboard box of his personal items.
"What the hell? Hargrave, what are you doing here? Couldn't resist coming down to see firsthand what your personal power was able to accomplish?"
Inside the car Piotr checked the envelope Dale had given him. It was stuffed with office printer paper cut to rough dollar bill size. He glared out the window but a loud thump on the roof caught his attention and the face of the burly bodyguard who had taken his weapon appeared in his window.
"Fuck. Off." The bodyguard said. Piotr made a mental note of the man's face and then put the car in gear. If he could kill at least that one prick before Vasily put him to death for his failure then he would be grateful.
Dale looked at Marco without any trace of emotion on his face.
"I offered you a deal Marco. This was your decision, not mine."
"You wanted me to get my reporter off your case and cover up your dirty little affair with Boyevik in exchange for bankrolling AltNews Hargrave. In my book, that's not a choice, it's blackmail."
This was news to Lindsay. Marco hadn't told her any of the details of the company's closure. She was shocked, horrified.
"Is this true Dale?" The man had just saved her skin but if he had forced the closure of the paper then wasn't he also responsible for getting her into this mess in the first place?
Dale looked at her. For a moment there was a trace of weariness and disappointment in his eyes. He had been so close to getting her so many times now. Was she slipping away from him yet again?
"I offered to provide investment to Marco. His company would have gained instant liquidity, paid off all its debts and not only saved jobs, but allowed him to hire more people. Instead he chose this." He looked over at the movers lugging more office furniture down the steps.
"You offer to bankroll him in order to kill my investigation?"
"I wanted him to stop you harassing me over something you don’t understand and for which you won't ever have a shred of evidence."
"First you organize to have those pictures taken of us together and now this?"
"Pictures? I never had any pictures taken of us together."
"Yes you did. The first time you came to my apartment. We… we kissed… you kissed me on the steps outside and had someone take photos to compromise my status on the story."
Dale looked at Marco and from his impassivity and self-control suddenly a flash of rage emerged.
&nb
sp; "You little sonofabitch." He reached out and grabbed Marco by the collar.
"Stay away from me." Marco said. "I'll press charges. Lindsay, do something."
"Do something? Did you set me up Marco?"
Marco shook his head and Dale raised his fist but Lindsay held back his bulging arm with her small hands.
"You told me he took those pictures Marco. Did you lie to me?"
Marco's eyes darted from Dale's to Lindsay's.
"You were getting too involved with the story Lindsay. Jesus Christ, you were becoming the damn story - I needed you to take a step back, but you wouldn’t listen to me. You never listen to me."
Dale drew his fist back further but Lindsay held on.
"Dale! Stop! Don't do it. The little weasel isn't worth your time and effort."
Dale lowered his fist but held onto Marco's collar. Lindsay turned to face her old friend.
"Thank's Lindsay." Marco said. "I knew you'd understand."
Dale released him and as he moved to straighten his collar Lindsay looked him dead in the eye.
"You're not worth his time and effort Marco, but you're sure as hell worth mine."
She slammed a fist into his jaw and he stumbled backwards, falling awkwardly onto his ass, his personal belongings scattering all over the steps.
Lindsay turned to Dale and wrapped her arms around his neck. She strained upwards to kiss him, her heart, mind and body overcome with waves of sweet conflicting emotions.
He had saved her.
He had forgiven her time and again and he was here, now, in front of her and surrounding her with all of his wealth and power and blind lust. Even if all he wanted to do was fuck her no one in her entire life had ever been willing to put in so much heroic effort just to get next to her.
That had to mean something, didn't it? She had to mean something more to him than just an easy lay even if the stupid bastard hadn't figured it out yet.
Dale wrapped her up in his arms.
"Come on princess." He said. "I've been waiting for this for a long time. Let's get the hell out of here." He turned to go but then paused and turned to Marco who was still sitting on the steps in shock.
"If you change your mind about AltNews Marco, just say the word. The offer still stands. Same conditions. It's up to you."
Her Sweet Liberation: Billionaire Secrets - Book Six Page 2
