Dirty Love (The Lion and The Mouse Book 2)

by Kenya Wright

  A noise sounded further down the hall. I pulled out my gun. Oleg and the others did the same. Everyone was on guard, except Misha and his men.

  “Relax. My friend is here.” Misha wagged his fingers. “Guns make her uncomfortable. Put that away.”

  A petite black woman walked out, buttoning up her coat and wearing neutral toned yoga pants and a shirt. Earbuds were stuck in her ear. Her long black hair was in a ponytail.

  When she looked up, she screamed. It took her a minute to calm down, and she only relaxed, when she spotted Misha’s face.

  “I’m sorry, Ava.” He held his hands together like he was praying. “I needed to come by and check the place out.”

  “Of course.” Ava’s hand shivered. “I just had to hurry and pack—”

  “No, you’re performing tonight.” Misha smiled. “Pack later. Next week. Next month, but not now. There’s no rush.”

  I looked at Valentina to get her reaction. She just stared at the girl as if wondering if she should kill her or not.

  “No, you’ve helped out enough.” Ava had no Russian accent. In fact, she sounded American.

  “Where are you from?” I asked, not able to help myself.

  Misha glared my way.

  What? I can’t ask her a question?

  Ava gave me an odd look. “Oh wow. Where are you from? New York?”

  “Yes.”

  “Me too.”

  I grinned. “You sound like you’re from the Bronx.”

  Ava widened her eyes. “Yes. I am. How did you know?”

  “I’ve got a knack for NY accents. What are you doing here?” I gestured around the penthouse.

  Ava grinned. “Oh, I dance—”

  “Ava, you don’t need to be distracted. You have a busy evening.” Misha continued on, probably happy that he’d ended our conversation. “How about I walk you to your car?”

  “Misha, I told you that I won’t need that car.”

  “You will tonight. Later, we can discuss it further.” Misha smiled, but I could tell she had no choice. It didn’t seem like he would take no for an answer.

  “Okay, thank you.”

  Misha gestured over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

  What? We didn’t come here for this. We came here for fucking Sasha.

  Valentina chucked to herself and headed over to the window.

  The elevators slid open. They got on and left.

  I gestured for Valentina to go in a room further down the hallway where Ava had appeared. The men watched us leave, especially Oleg and Luka. Everyone had blank expressions on their faces.

  When I got to the room, she closed the door.

  "Misha came up with the plan, and then straight left, when a female came around.” I held my hands out. “Yo, what the fuck was that?”

  “Misha is in love with Ava.”

  “What?” I pointed to her. “I thought he was in love with you.”

  “Me? Why would you think that?”

  “You two act like you had sex.”

  “We did, but…it was a drunken mistake. And I felt bad that night. I kind of convinced him to do it.” She stared out of the window. “That was long ago.”

  “Long enough ago for him to be the father of your child?”

  She snapped her face to me.

  “I know. Apparently, people shouldn’t ask, but I’m asking. What the fuck is up with Misha and you? What’s up with you and the ballerina, Olesya? Misha said he caught you two sleeping together.”

  She shrugged.

  “You fucked your brother’s girlfriend?”

  “She was mine, before Kazimir met her. When I was done with Olesya, she went to Kazimir.”

  “Did he know?” I asked.

  “No. I kept my bisexuality a secret. I saw how everyone treated Sasha.”

  “Did you and Sasha bond over that?”

  “No.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not working with Sasha. I thought we figured that out.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Sasha’s people are here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Tapping the window, she squinted her eyes as she peered out of it. “Wait. I don’t recognize this man.”

  Fuck. We’ll finish that convo later. Time to kill Sasha.

  Anticipation hit me. I rushed to the window. Misha stood by a car and held it open for Ava. Across the street from Misha, a limo parked. Men stood outside of it. All Russian—scary, tall, and tatted. Cold, deadly expressions decorated their faces. Right in the center of them stood a black man.

  “You motherfucker.” I yanked my gun out. “That’s Darryl. Em’s brother.”

  “The one who helped Sasha?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s kill him.”

  “Yeah.”

  “This way.” She left through a door on the other side of the room.

  We hadn’t come in that way, but since she’d slept with the prior owner who was now dead, I assumed she had a good run of the place.

  “There’s a back entrance.” She guided us down a different hallway. “Oleg won’t check on us, if he thinks we’re in the bedroom.”

  “Good. We need them to stay in the penthouse.”

  I dialed Misha. She stopped at a smaller elevator that was all black. She pressed the button.

  Misha answered his phone. “What?”

  “Sasha’s men are behind you.”

  “I noticed. I’m waiting for them to walk in.”

  “But did they notice you?”

  “No, I’m sitting in the car with Ava. She’s going to drive me around the corner. There’s a back entrance to the brothel.”

  “Good. We’re leaving the back entrance of the penthouse.”

  “Good. I was going to suggest it. Meet me in the back.”

  “Hey, the black guy with Sasha’s men…that’s Em’s brother—”

  “So, don’t kill him?”

  “Oh, I want you to kill him if you can. I just want you to make it as painful as possible. But that’s if you get to him first.”

  “I’ve got a head start.”

  “Yeah, but I’m from Harlem, baby.” I hung up and got on the elevator.

  It lowered.

  I checked my gun for bullets and then turned to Valentina. She has a small silver one in her hand.

  “You’re not going inside,” I said.

  “I am. I know that brothel better than Misha and you.”

  “Why?”

  “It was across the street from my ex-girlfriend. Of course, we would check it out, especially if my stepbrother owns it.”

  “So, why did Kazimir start hooking up with Olesya?”

  “Because she approached him. She went after him. She was mad that I broke up with her.” Valentina looked annoyed that she even had to talk about it. “I’m bisexual. She called it selfish. She had sex with my brother to hurt me.”

  I put my gun away. “But you didn’t kill her for that?”

  “No.”

  “You said she blackmailed you. How? Was it that she was going to tell Kazimir about you two?”

  “No, that wouldn’t have bothered me. It would’ve been an uncomfortable and embarrassing conversation with my brother, but nothing more.”

  We stopped at the bottom.

  The doors slid open.

  She hid her gun and walked off.

  I followed. “Valentina?”

  She paused and faced me. “What?”

  “Why did you kill her? What was she blackmailing you over?”

  “Not now.”

  She rushed off.

  We hit the streets. A chilly breeze scrubbed against my skin. We went down a block, crossed the street, and headed in the direction of the brothel’s back entrance. People walked by and looked at us, but nothing out of the ordinary.

  I placed my hand in the corner of her back as we rounded the corner.

  “Will you tell me later?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Everything?”

&
nbsp; “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t think you’ll stop bothering me about it, if you don’t know.”

  “True.”

  “And I need you to hide it from Kazimir.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “When you hear it, you’ll want to.”

  I frowned. “Okay.”

  Misha stood at the back entrance with twenty armed men, and their guns were things of beauty—real weapons. When he said he had people in St. Petersburg, I hadn’t realized he’d meant a fucking army.

  Misha gestured to a black van parked across the street as he put a tiny bud in his ear. “They’re hacking the cameras. They’ll tell us where to go and what hallway is safe.”

  I eyed him. “They’re hacking the security cameras?”

  “What other ones would we care about?”

  Misha hit the ear with the bud in it and listened. “Let’s go.”

  “What’s the plan?” I asked.

  Misha raised his gun in the air. “We kill everyone that isn’t us.”

  His men unlocked the back door by screwing the entire doorknob off in less than twenty seconds.

  Well, that’s one way to pick a lock.

  We rushed through. I’d understood Misha was serious about killing people, but it was terrifying to witness. It didn’t matter who it was; if they walked outside the hallway, one of his men popped them with their silencer. Bodies fell to the ground, one after the other.

  Cigarette smoke filled the hallway. Blood spilled as we walked over dead bodies. A few spasmed as we continued down. And I couldn’t look back and help.

  Focus.

  A man opened the door next to Misha. In a blur, Misha had his gun in the guy’s mouth and pulled. The man’s body crashed to the floor. The prostitute he was with spotted him and started to shriek.

  Misha stopped the noise with a bullet and moved on.

  Damn.

  I stepped over the dead man’s body, glanced in the doorway at the trembling prostitute as she choked on her own blood.

  Earlier, I’d thought Misha wasn’t a killer. He’d hid it well. But now I knew that he was a force to reckon with. I didn’t plan on having any disagreements or problems with him in the future.

  Body after body fell. Men and women. Customers and prostitutes. I might’ve just let them run free, but that wasn’t what Misha was thinking. He had the mind of a man with power. That was why I never tried to grab for it. I’d rather stand next to the one with power than wield that demonic essence in my hands.

  Misha had to make a hard choice in that brothel.

  Let some go or kill them all?

  Nothing about this moment could be half-assed. Sasha and Darryl had stayed several steps ahead of us. If we could catch Darryl, torture him, get answers, and then kill him, we could end this all.

  So, as people died around me, and I didn’t have to even pull the trigger of my gun, I had to calm myself. I had to push away the guilt.

  This was bigger than the prostitutes and customers dying. Sasha and Darryl had leveled Harlem. They would do more damage. They would take more lives.

  And if I hesitated, Em would bury me, and I couldn’t allow it.

  “They’re on the third level.” Misha looked at the elevator and pressed a button. “Put a body there. We’ll take the stairs.”

  I squinted, not getting what he was saying but following him anyway. Valentina stayed close to me. Her face didn’t show disgust or horror.

  I guess, if you were born into this life, then you might not be horrified at much.

  It made me like her more, not that feelings hadn’t already been rising inside of me. That blow job had damn sure gotten my attention. Had the hidden cellphone and Misha not interrupted our moment, I would’ve made love to her on the plane.

  I shouldn’t even have been fucking with her, but I couldn’t help it. She had so many secrets, and I was getting right into the center of them due to the dead ballerina. I didn’t know what she would confess to me, but I hoped I could stomach it.

  Focus.

  The men followed Misha’s orders. They grabbed a corpse when the elevator opened and lay the body halfway on the elevator and floor. When the doors tried to slide closed, they bounced back. That went on and on as we made it to the stairs—the elevator doors hitting the dead body with a boom, bouncing back, to only slide and hit the body again.

  The sound messed with my head. I doubted I’d be able to get it out of my mind weeks later.

  I need a fucking vacation. After this, I’m going somewhere. A beach, a blunt, and some sexy ass chick next to me.

  Valentina’s perfume mingled around me as if luring my senses to think of her.

  We climbed the stairs.

  Misha stayed ahead. There was an eagerness on his face that spoke of violence. Where on the surface he appeared like a level-headed man, now I could see the monster inside of him.

  Darryl has no idea what the fuck he has stepped into.

  We hit the third floor.

  Silence greeted us.

  We all moved down together almost like a band of military troops. Silent, yet using our hands and movements to communicate. Everyone was on guard with their guns out, even Valentina. She stayed behind me. Every few steps, I checked on her.

  Misha paused.

  We stopped behind him.

  He pressed the bud on his ear, nodded, and then pointed to the room across from us.

  He kept his voice low and looked at his men. “Keep the black man alive. He’s my new friend.”

  Misha winked at me.

  Oh. You’re talking about me? I didn’t realize we’d become friends.

  I gave him an uncomfortable nod, happy to not be on his bad side. After watching him work his gun, I knew he could’ve been a match for any of those fast gunslingers from the Old West, mounted on their horses and twirling their guns at a lightning fast speed.

  Yeah, man. We’re friends, not enemies.

  One of Misha’s huge men barreled through the door, surely scaring the shit out of everyone in there.

  They shot at him. I couldn’t see who, but the big guy fell to the floor.

  And then we entered. Bullets sprayed and guided us. I rushed in and got behind the biggest thing I could. That happened to be a man. I hit him in the side. Blood splattered on me. He fell back. I caught him and pushed the heavy frame forward.

  The dead body vibrated against me as someone in front shot at it, trying to hit me.

  A bullet whipped by.

  Whoever had been shooting at me was dead.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Valentina hit my side.

  I dropped the body.

  Smoke rose in the air along with the noise of men dying—grunts, screams, and the sounds that only come from being in earth-shattering pain.

  The room was bigger than I thought. At least ten men were in there, and now they were dead.

  None of them were Darryl.

  Misha turned to me. “Where is he?”

  Someone shut the door behind us.

  I glanced, but it was just one of Misha’s men. I turned back to the room, scanned the space, and spotted a door probably leading to a bathroom. “Check there or a closet. Darryl always hides when the big guns come out.”

  And surely, he did.

  We found him lying down in a bathtub, splattered with his own urine.

  The men yanked him out.

  Darryl spotted me. “M-Max?”

  “You thought I was dead by now?”

  “I-I…” Darryl glanced at everyone around him. “Look. I…I can help you.”

  “How?” I leaned on the edge of the sink.

  They slung him back in the bathtub.

  Valentina walked in with Misha. They both gripped their guns, and I could tell that Darryl knew he was out of options.

  “You’ve only got a few seconds.” I shrugged at Darryl. “It’s in your best interests to tell us how helpful you can be now.”

  “I-I know
Sasha’s plan.”

  “Who is he working with on Kazimir’s side?” I crossed my arms.

  Darryl trembled. “What do you mean?”

  “Who else is working with Sasha?” I pointed my gun at him. “Who is it?”

  “C-come on, Max. You won’t. You’re my brother.” His bottom lip quivered.

  “Brother?” I pictured X’s dead body that now lay on the plane. “Who is it?! Who’s working with Sasha?”

  “I-I…uh…” Darryl glanced at the window. He’d been doing that a lot as if hoping someone would save him.

  I sighed. “He’s stalling.”

  “N-no. I swear.” Darryl glanced at the door. Terror hit his eyes.

  I shook my head. “No one’s coming for you. You better work with us or die.”

  “I-I barely know the guy’s name. He’s Russian.”

  “No, shit.” I placed my hand on the trigger. “Give me more.”

  “Uh…fuck! I don’t know his name. I just know that Kazimir and the man has serious history.” Darryl ducked as if he could get out of my gun’s target. “Look…M-Max. How’s Em doing? Let’s get her on the phone. Let me talk to her.”

  “She’s done saving you.” I pressed the tip of the gun to his forehead. “What else about the guy?”

  “Sasha said they broke out of jail together.”

  Misha frowned. “Luka.”

  Darryl went delirious and nodded. “Y-yes. Yes! Luka. That was his name.”

  “Thanks.” I gripped the gun tighter. A tear fell from my eye.

  “Please, M-Max, don’t do it.” Darryl’s hands shook. “Remember…when we…w-would climb Ms. Sissy’s steps for lemonade…and you always—”

  I pulled the trigger. The bullet finished the sentence.

  Remember when we used to love each other? Remember when you said we would always have each other’s backs? Remember when others couldn’t divide us? Remember when money was just a thing, not life? Remember when you loved your sister?

  I hadn’t realized I’d continued to pull the trigger. I didn’t even know I’d filled Darryl’s head up with all the bullets I’d had left. I hadn’t realized I’d still been crying.

  I hadn’t realized any of it until Valentina came to me, took my gun, wiped my face, and led me away.

  By then, no one else filled the bathroom.

  Misha and his men hurried away, ready to kill Luka.

  She cupped my face with both hands. “I’m sorry.”