by Kenya Wright
The very idea of losing Kaz’s attention was something I didn’t want to think about. After all these years, I’d enjoyed hiding from people. Recently, I was scared to consider the fact that Kaz could get bored with me.
I thought back to Kaz’s possible ex-lover who’d just been dragged out of here.
“Which one are you fucking?”
X nudged me. “Don’t be scared either.”
“With him?”
“With love.”
“This isn’t love.”
“What is it then?”
I felt uncomfortable saying it, but X had seen me do dirty things—bloody things. “This is about sex and business.”
X winked at me. “‘Sex and business is love.”
We arrived at the table.
X pulled out a chair next to Max for me. “Isn’t that right, Max?”
Max hadn’t even realized we’d showed up. He’d been looking at the exits as if searching for someone. Confused, Max looked at me. “What is X talking about?”
“Sex and business.” I sat down. “What’s up with you?”
He leaned my way and whispered, “She left.”
I spotted Oleg watching us. I said no more.
Where did she go?
I felt warmth on my face as if someone was watching me. I scanned the scene and noticed a good bit of people were looking my way. The few that I made eye contact with turned away. But many others whispered to the other. I looked further, still sensing someone’s gaze on me.
I looked across the stage to the tables on the other side. Kazimir watched me with an intensity that I was unable to fathom. He wore a designer tuxedo. As I gazed at him, my pulse jumped.
I’m going to tear that tux off him tonight.
He grinned as if he read my thought.
“Naw.” X shook his head on my side. “That boy isn’t going to lose attention.”
I swallowed as he continued to watch me and lick his lips, even though his uncle said something on one side, and Misha said something on the other.
The room darkened. I tensed. The music stopped. The crowd hushed.
Maxwell handed me a gun under the table.
I said low, “Where did you get this?”
“My guard.”
“He didn’t feel you grab it?”
“Of course not.”
I would’ve taken Luka’s gun, but I’d gotten the man in trouble in Harlem. I didn’t think I would get another chance to stay in his good graces.
A beam of white light fell on the center of the stage. A man stood in the light. I could barely see him. He wore a black suit—even the shirt was the color of midnight. He almost disappeared in the shadows.
He held a puppet that stood on the stage, its head reaching the man’s knee. The puppet was a clown with a sad face and wore a white costume with black buttons.
Everyone cheered as the puppet looked at the crowd.
The clown didn’t appear happy to be on stage or in front of everyone. He looked around, taking in the space. The audience paused from any other noise.
The orchestra played.
The clown puppet continued to take in the audience. At this point, I could only make out the puppeteer’s clothes. His face was still hidden in the shadows.
I gripped the gun and lay it on my thigh, wondering how I would sneak it back into the room. The dress was big enough to maybe put something under it and shimmy tight-legged back. That could only work if Kaz didn’t take me back. His hands would be between my thighs before we hit the room.
I turned his way.
His face remained on me. He didn’t even turn in the direction of the stage.
I smiled.
He smiled back.
For some reason, I giggled. It didn’t make any sense. Nothing was funny, but I just felt silly and free.
I’ll figure out the gun thing later.
Immediately, memories of how he’d set my body on fire flashed through my mind. My toes curled at just the thought of what his mouth and fingers had done to me on the plane and even in this castle. I’d moaned. I’d whimpered. I’d screamed. I’d melted in his arms, groaning Russian the whole time.
I cleared my throat and turned back to the puppet. If I gazed back at Kaz anymore, I would be wet and soaking this gown.
The puppet continued to appear sad and uncomfortable on the stage. I just didn’t get what was going on. No words came.
And then the puppet turned his face up straight at the puppeteer. The stage light shone on his face too. He was a regular man with gray at the roots of his black hair. He smiled at the sad clown and shrugged.
Someone snickered in the audience.
The puppet looked down and studied the string attached to his hand and fingers. Then he followed the string’s length to the puppeteer as if noticing for the first time that he was actually a puppet.
This didn’t appear to make the sad clown happy at all.
Suddenly, the puppet yanked off the string attached to his foot. The puppeteer appeared embarrassed and hurried to put the string back on the puppet’s foot.
The clown would not have it. He moved his foot away so the puppeteer couldn’t fix it. I leaned forward in the chair, wondering where all of this was going.
The clown detached another string. This one was on his head. His head now hung low and dead. Still the puppet yanked off more of the strings that held him, until no strings connected.
When the clown was done, he fell to the ground, and the puppet lay on the stage lifeless and dead. I’d so bought into this breathing puppet that I almost thought the puppet would jump up and run out of there.
Instead, he lay on the stage.
Everyone cheered.
Max and I exchanged glances and clapped right along with it.
Surprisingly, X rose and clapped like he was at the Super Bowl.
“Really?” I said, when he sat back down.
“That was genius and such a simple idea, carried out in such a moving fashion.” X kissed this fingertip. “Love the minimalistic visual aspect of it as well. The puppeteer adds even more to it.”
I twisted my lips to the side.
“What?” X chuckled. “You know your boy knows art. How the hell do you think you’re so good? Shoving art books in front of your face was the only way to keep your butt still for an hour. If not, you would’ve been climbing down a sewer tunnel.”
“Fair point.”
Max chimed in, “I didn’t get it. The puppet was a clown. I was hoping the motherfucker was going to tell jokes, and what was up with the sad face?”
“I loved the frozen sad face.” X wagged his cane, grabbing the attention from other tables. “I find it fascinating how a face that never changes can say so many different expressions.”
Max rolled his eyes. “Xavier just hit Prague and now he’s a connoisseur of art.”
“You didn’t like it?” X asked Max.
“No, man.” Max shook his head. “I’m not a fan of puppet suicide.”
I grinned. “Apparently, no one wants to be controlled, not even the puppet.”
X raised his glass and said in a mocking tone, “Give me liberty or give me death.”
I looked up at Luka as he stood behind me. “What did you think?”
Luka shrugged.
“You’re going to stand the whole time?” I asked.
He grumbled. “That’s how they do it here.”
I pointed to the empty chair by Maxwell. “Come on, Luka. Sit and have a drink. I’ll tell Kaz that I forced you.”
“I’ll sit, but I won’t drink.” He did but waved away the offer of a drink. “And as far as the puppet, none of you are seeing the whole picture.”
Shocked, we all watched Luka as he continued.
“We're all puppets. That’s what the play is saying.” He threaded his meaty fingers together. “You can never be truly free. Suicide is one way to rebel, but even committing suicide depends on others.”
“I’m impressed, Luka.”
I nodded. “I think you have a point.”
He waved the compliment away. “I’ve seen this puppet show before. Kazimir explained it to me, then.”
The mention of Kazimir had me turn in his direction. The stage was now empty. The lights slowly came back on. His uncle had his attention in that moment, discussing something.
X laughed. “Who else thought that the puppet was going to escape after he pulled all the strings off?”
I was about to agree with him when Max nudged me. “Yo, what’s up with those three in the corner? Don’t make a show of looking.”
I checked and spotted three men. One wore black, the other wore white, and the final was in red. Capes covered them with the same matching colors. A mask with their designated color hid their face. They didn’t stare our way; instead, they watched Kaz and his uncle.
“I saw something like that in Valentina’s children’s book. It was three guys in the book. One in white. One red. And the other in black.”
“That’s weird,” I said.
“Or is it?” Max asked. “We did just finish watching a puppet show.”
I studied them some more. “There’s guns under those capes.”
“Most definitely.”
“Igor’s men?”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“Valentina’s men?”
“Maybe, but then that doesn’t explain her absence.”
I checked the table. Oleg stood around, but I didn’t see Valentina. “She already left?”
“Yeah, and I’m her alibi. I guess I’m supposed to say she was with me the whole time.”
“This is weird, but wouldn’t someone have said something if this was out of the norm?”
“True.”
I was about to forget about the three men until they made a move. All three walked in unison, fast and glancing over their shoulders. Quick, they marched in the direction of Igor and Kaz.
No one appeared to care or notice.
“You see that?” I gripped my gun. “This doesn’t look okay, but maybe I’m bugging.”
Max moved his hand under the table, surely grabbing his own weapon. “We’re strangers here.”
“True, but still…this doesn’t look right.”
“We’re at a dinner. We can’t just stand up and shoot motherfuckers because they look crazy. Everyone here looks crazy.”
“True.” My heart hammered as the men continued to get closer.
One of Kaz’s guards turned their way and stepped to the man in black.
The red guy opened his cape and pulled out an AK-47. Bullets sprayed.
“No!” I jumped from the table with my gun.
Everything happened so fast. People screamed. Others rushed. I figured Max was on my side, rushing with me as I raced over the stage, aiming my gun.
The men had shot down most of Kaz’s guards. I wasn’t sure who else had gotten harmed.
I checked my side. “Max?!”
“Here.” He shot at one of the caped men.
“Where’s Kaz?”
“Someone pushed him under the table.”
“Where?”
“There.”
We raced that way, shooting. Bucking our guns. Not even knowing if those were the men to kill or not. In Harlem, three men with angry faces and dressed in black had been doing some sort of drive by. One just shot and asked questions later. Better safe than sorry. That was why I never wore black to an event.
This time, we looked to be right. The men ducked from our guns and ran in Kazimir’s direction, pointing their guns his way. I glanced where he was sitting. The chair was empty.
The lights blinked off and on. Guns shot. Bullets sprayed. People screamed. Many crawled on the floor to their escape. Others fled over the stage, knocking over tables.
Fuck this!
Pushing through a fleeing crowd, I ran off and vaulted over a table. Max followed. Plates and glasses crashed to the floor.
We reached Kaz’s table. It was empty under it. Fear sank in my heart.
Max and I ducked under it. My hands shook. “Where is he?”
“The Russian?” Max squinted.
“Yes.”
“He’s been behind you the whole time”
“What? How—?”
Arms grabbed my waist. I fell to the side. Kazimir caught me before I fell to the floor and pulled me back up. The lights shut off. Kaz pulled me to him. Even in the dimly lit darkness, I knew it was him—his scent, the hardness of his muscled chest.
“Kaz?!”
He slipped his hands over my body as if checking for wounds. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Shivering, I looked at him, trying to see if he’d been hurt. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” His hand stopped at my hand. “You’ve got a gun.”
“I do.”
“I said no guns.”
“No, you didn’t, but meanwhile you said you would be safe, and you weren’t.”
“Good catch.”
“I try.”
“Don’t worry.” He hugged me. “Xavier will be fine.”
“What?” I left his arms, rose, and looked in X’s direction.
The lights came back on. Kaz let me go. Three of his men were down. Uncle Igor had gotten hit in his chest. Two of his men carried him out. Luka and Oleg carried a bloody X out too. His body spasmed in Luka’s grip.
“No!”
Kaz grabbed me. “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
“Fuck. Fuck.” I climbed out of his hands, searching for the motherfuckers in the chaos. “There was blood around his chest.”
“He’ll make it.”
“Fuck that shit.” I wanted to talk to Mr. Red, Black, and White more than ever.
There was no way they’d all gotten out. People were still pushing each other away to escape. A few exits were crowded with screaming and crying people.
X is fine. X is fine.
“Fuck!” Revenge gripped my heart as I tightened the hold on my gun. Now they’d messed up even more. First, they’d gone after Kaz and then they’d shot the only person I could ever call my father.
“Fuck that!” I left Kaz’s hold. “Fuck that. Fuck that.”
Kaz watched me with a blank expression.
Max had another gun in his hand. He cocked it. “Where they at, yo?”
I wiped my face and frantically scanned the space. I couldn’t find the guys with the capes. If they were smart, they’d torn it off and tried to blend in.
They weren’t smart.
“There’s one of them!” I caught the tail end of the red cape. Others raced their way. Out of Kazimir’s grip, I was free again. What else would I do but race after the motherfucker that was messing with my happiness?
And while I wasn’t ready to process the idea of happiness and experiencing it with Kaz, I wasn’t going to let someone else destroy the possibilities.
“They’re going that way.” I kicked off my heels and ran off.
“Shit!” Maxwell roared, surely running after me. “Are you crazy?”
Without the heels, I could make good distance. Part of my gown ripped. I shoved a big man out of the way.
“Yo!” Maxwell kept at my side but sounded out of breath.
We left the ballroom and rushed through the kitchen. I jumped over a small table holding a pie. The pie crashed to the floor with other desserts. Slipping on whipped cream and fruit filling, I tripped over the table. My gun dropped but didn’t go off.
“Damn it!” I picked it up and rushed on. Creamy gunk covered the bottom of my gown.
“Yo!” Max caught the lead and shoved through the door. “I see them.”
I rushed after him.
Come on, bastards. Who are y’all with? Sasha or someone else?
“Mysh!!”
Shocked, I glanced behind me. Kaz and twenty men barreled a few feet behind him. It was a scary sight. I thanked God they weren’t chasing after me and made a mental note to never piss Kaz off.
I didn’t lo
ok back anymore. They would have to catch up. Other men raced after Red Cape. He shot back. A few fell down. The man in red was good—knew the place, knew how to shoot. We ran through some other eating space in the castle. Max, two of Kaz’s men, and I were on Red Cape’s heels. He knocked over tables. I dodged them. A few fell into it. Max and I remained running forward.
Red Cape sped up, but not before turning around and shooting back. Someone screamed. A shot sounded behind us. Someone must’ve gotten the bullet.
Damn, he’s good.
Running and shooting was damn near impossible, if you wanted to actually hit something. It wasn’t like the movies. But this guy was a professional.
Red Cape ran into a room and shut the door. A lock clicked. Somehow, Kaz got to the door before Max and me. He slammed against it and stepped back. One of his men shot the doorknob.
Kaz kicked it in.
Max and his men ran inside.
“Hell yes,” I rushed in afterwards.
Kaz stopped me from running forward. “No.”
“Are you crazy?” I ducked under his arm and continued. “I’m going in there. He shot X.”
Lucky for Kaz, he didn’t grab me. I didn’t know what I would’ve done. The man had gone after Kaz and shot X. I would be dealing with him just like everyone else.
Kaz muttered, “Sumasshedshaya zhenshchina.”
Everyone stood around and searched the massive room. I scanned the space.
“He left.” Max hurried to the window. “But he didn’t go out here.”
The others checked the windows.
Kaz got to my side as I touched the side of a huge painting, searching for the button that was on the painting in Max’s room.
“What are you doing?” Kaz asked.
“Looking for the hidden passageway.” I went to a huge bookshelf and tried to pull out a book. None would come out. “It’s here.”
Frowning, Kaz got in front of me, touched the sides, and opened the shelf.
I tried to dive in.
Kaz grabbed me by the waist as everyone else went in.
“Are you kidding me?” I shoved him away.
His face went stern. “Calm down.”
My chest rose and fell. Sweat dripped down the side of my face. Curls plastered to my cheeks. I was sure I looked like a mess. I stared down at my gown. It was ripped on both sides and covered in pie and pink cake icing. Holes shredded the toes of my stockings.
