“That’s what I’ve heard.”
Cutting into his meat with slow, long glides aside his fork, he lifts a piece to his mouth and savors the bite. He takes his time chewing efficiently and licks his lips as if to ensure he has captured the entire meat eating experience. I rap my nails against the table impatiently to which I receive his glare. I don’t stop the rhythm and return his glare in equal measure.
The silver utensil flashes sunlight when put down next to the plate. Nikola tents his fingers. “We all must do what we need to in order to survive in this world Mrs. Seviride and so must you. You don’t have to have sex with Andrijica, just get him alone. Do this and no one will ever know who killed Supak.”
With the hand that is not on the table, I dig my nails into my palm with the thought of another man trying to use me. Unclenching my jaw, I huff, “I’m married.” He probably knows I’m lying, but my heart pounds in my churning fury. Since he already called me, Mrs. Seviride, I’ll run with that.
Disregarding my objection, he waves a hand. “You’re engaged, and that is of no consequence. The fact that you’re promised to another man will only make you a better conquest. You’d be a trophy to him. Now if he finds out who killed Supak, that would make things deliciously interesting. He will more than likely want to use you up first, then torture you in front of Seviride,” he taunts, “and probably make him watch others violate that pretty little body of yours.”
Nikola says it with indifference, but I still feel the impact. The thought shoots a shiver through me and pressure builds behind my eyes. My chest hurts from my heart ramming against my ribcage. Pushing it out of my mind, I take a therapeutic breath. “So I’m supposed to seduce him so you can blackmail him or something?”
He balks with laughter. “You Westerners do things so differently. Here, we have more permanent resolutions to get what we want. Just toy with him at the party, he’ll want to get you alone and I’ll be waiting.”
The lightbulb slowly goes on in my head and I mouth a silent “Oh.”
“You want to take over,” I predict. “You want to be the boss.” He smiles deviously, tapping his temple to confirm my understanding. “If I do this, Bryson and I are free to leave? Alive? We sever ties with the clan without retaliation?”
“Of course! They have made a mess in their dealings with Seviride Industries. I have a new direction that’s more profitable. We don’t need him anymore.”
The red in Nikola’s eyes brighten, snuffing out the violet hues. His last words resonate in my ears; I know we are dead regardless. He’s a Cleaner. His trip to the U.S. was to tie up loose ends for the clan, which means no witnesses. The warnings from the dream drift back into my mind, and I feel the panic rise. A cold sweat coats my skin and my body gets heavy. My mind becomes muddy and I recognize the triggers as the beginning of a transition. Shoving the fear aside, I have to control the urge flooding me in order to get out of this room.
I roll my head, cracking my neck, and extended my hand. “Deal,” I agree. My grip is stalwart, which makes him winch.
“Strong hand shake, I wasn’t expecting that, but I like it,” he says with a pinched face.
You have no idea, mother-fucker.
YELLING BOOMS DOWN the hall as soon as I step off the elevator. The caustic voices are so heated, I’m surprised our room’s door hasn’t blown off the hinges. Bryson and Hennessey are in each other’s faces when I walk in and stop their argument.
Although livid, Bryson sweeps me up in a hug, I flinch waiting for his anger to turn toward me.
“Thank God you’re okay! Where have you been? Why did you ditch Hennessey?” The red souvenir from my abduction blossoming on my temple draws his attention. “Oh babe, what now?” he asks, gently stroking the welt with his thumb.
All I can do in response is allow a mind-numbing chuckle loose, but I loathe being treated like a ten-year old that got lost at the circus. He has every right to be angry, but it only makes me match his anger.
I push him off and sting my hand across his cheek. “Dis iz entirely yer fuckin’ fault an we’re tryin’ ta help yer ass! We keep gettin’ dragged inta des stupid jacked up sichiations wer we iz sum damn sex toy fer someone. Fuck! Allz we wanted iz ta forget bout y’all assholes an bounce da fuck out!! But we kin’t, wer fuckin’ trapped!”
My hands fly to cover my mouth, shocked at the butchered lingo that just flew from it.
Holy fuck! What was that? Or rather who was that?
The room falls pin-drop quiet, both men stunned into silence.
The divot in Bryson’s forehead is so deep, I swear his eyebrows are touching. “What are you talking about? What situations? Which one are you?” Bryson asks, stepping back astonished.
Pressing my fingers into my eyes, I try to regroup. I let out a guttural sigh growling and scrub my face at the same time. I decide to test my voice and see who comes out. “Bryson, I have a lot to tell you.”
Good, it’s my voice.
“You’re probably not going to like it, but right now, I really don’t give a shit. Have a seat, this may take a while,” I assert and pace in front of him.
“God, you sound like Marvy right now.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that a lot.” I purse my lips and roll my eyes. “A few months ago, Marvy got busted with some Coke. She made this totally bullshit deal with the DEA and Vice to help them with their investigation that you are the center of. They think you’re the U.S. connection for the Balkan crime organization. I was supposed to get close to you and find Milinka. Remember that night Marvy kept asking you about her? But then all that shit with Supak happened and now I’m here. I was waiting for Hennessey in the lobby when this new asshole, Nikola something, threw me into a room. He is the freaky albino that got on the plane in London, the one with the red–violet eyes from the dream. Anyway, I’m supposed to get close to Simic and get him alone. Apparently, Nikola wants to take over the family by taking Simic out. HeHe knows you killed Supak and that I was there.”
I walk over to the mini-bar, pour myself a shot of something, and sit staring at Bryson. It feels so good not be under the cloak and dagger. It’s not the entire story, but getting mostly everything off my chest lifts an elephant-ton off my shoulders. I roll the smooth shot glass between my palms waiting for a response. After a few minutes, Bryson stands and walks to the balcony. I catch Henn’s eyes but all he does is shrug.
“You’re a big help,” I tell him. Glancing over my shoulder, the other room is excruciatingly quiet. “Crap,” I mumble, following Bryson’s leave.
He hypnotically gazes out to the horizon. “This whole thing was a set-up; you were playing me. Was screwing me part of the deal or a perk?”
“I just told you a shit ton of information and that’s all you got out of it?”
“Just answer my question,” he asks soberly.
I step in front of him so he has to look at me. “Neither.” My answer douses whatever light is left in his eyes. “Look, can we just figure that out ‘us’ later? I’d like to survive the weekend before I can figure out the rest of my life.”
He attempts to turn away, but I block him, forcing him to confront me. Through his dress shirt, his accelerated heart beat matches mine. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes me in. Our eyes meet, but there are questions in his. He searches my eyes as if the answers can be found there.
Blinking rapidly, his original questions bounce in my head. My eyebrows center and I tilt my head. “You asked, ‘which one are you?’” I push away from him and take a few steps back.
One of his hands goes to his hip, the other scratches the back of his head. Bryson drops his head and blows out a puff. “Oh, that.”
“Yeah, that.”
Both his hands settle on his hips and he postures in retaliation. “Well, since we’re coming clean, I know about Marvy and you. Your D.I.D.,” he blurts.
Mother Mary! I didn’t see that coming.
I’ve become a total mouth breather not knowing how
to react. “How long have you known?”
“A few days. I figured it out when Marvy was here.”
That curve ball throws me, but something else kicks in my gut. My vision slits with animosity for both of them. “Is she the reason I woke up feeling like I’d been shish kabobed?” I ask with a pure agitation.
“Don’t be jealous, I thought she was you,” he responds indifferently.
My eyes pop wide and my jaw drops appalled by his nonchalance. “JEALOUS?!? You told me you didn’t like it rough, but is that what you really like, Bryson? To screw a girl to the point where she ends up with bruises and her butt feels like barbed wire was shoved up there? Go chew on a brick, you jerk!”
In less than a blink of an eye, he rushes me, grabbing my upper arms. “It’s not what I want or what I like. She came on to me!”
“Get. Your. Lying. Filthy. Hands. Off. Me,” I seethe in his face. “Now!” The blood that boils, rises to my face and into my voice.
“Who’s the liar, Trista? You’re only here to throw me to the wolves. I’ve done nothing but protect you!” His eyes soften when he sees me cower and wince at his attack. Loosening his grip, he strokes where his hands were gripping my arms. “I swear Trista, she kept taunting me. It was all her.”
My blood blisters more, and I refuse to be censured by him. “It was most definitely not ALL her.”
If I could easily run from this room, I would. What kind of horse crap is this? Why do men feign innocence when caught in a lie?
“It was a physical reaction. What was I supposed to do? I am a man after all. She was you and was very salacious. She seduced me!”
The skin between my eyebrows fold in so tight I can feel them touching. “Oh, freaking hell! Are you kidding me?”
“God, Trista, I’m sorry! What do you want from me? You want to hear it? Okay, we had rough anal sex. She said she liked anal. Put two and two together and that’s what happened. Do you want to know if I liked it? Yes, I did. It’s anal for fuck’s sake! Do I feel like shit for hurting you? Yes, I do. Will I ever do it again? No, of course not!”
In response, I point toward the door. “Get out,” I castigate, slow and spiteful.
He gives me a long look hoping that I’d crack. I won’t. Finally he stands, but doesn’t leave and sits back down on a sofa chair. His refusal to leave infuriates me and I can barely see clearly.
A cold shiver climbs up my spine and my stomach rolls when another thought hits me.
Whoa. Hold up. Shut the front door!
My fists are tight under my arms and they itch to take a swing at Bryson. If he knew it wasn’t me, was that the reason he went at me like a gunnery soldier?
“Did you know about my M.P.D. before or after you had sex with her?”
The sofa chair whimpers when he sits back and rubs his hands against his suit trousers. His lips form a little “O” and he diverts his eyes from my interrogating glare.
“Bryson. What else are you not telling me?” I ask rubbing my tired eyes.
Before starting he takes a huge breath and blows it out. Then nothing comes out while he gapes his mouth open and shut like some damn trout.
I throw my hands in the air. “Come on Bryson, spit it out.”
To avoid eye contact, he stands and stretches, ultimately weaving his hands behind his head.
Bryson scrubs his face and lets out a frustrated growl. “Oh, for Christ’s sake! Firstly, it’s not called Multiple Personality Disorder anymore. It’s Dissociative Identity Disorder.”
“Whatever. When did you find out? I doubt Marvy just came out and told you.”
Traveling on an exhalation of breath he says quickly, “I did a background check on you.”
“A background check? For what? To see if I’d qualify for a second mortgage?”
My joke is lost on him and he simply shakes his head. “No, to check to see if you or Marvy had a record. If fingerprints or DNA are in the system, it makes people easier to find.”
“And easier to identify the body,” I add caustically. Crossing my arms over my chest, I circle my finger telling him to continue and then re-tuck it back under my elbow. “That’s how you knew it was my birthday. Okay, go on. From the beginning though.”
The sofa chair nearly cries when he flops back down onto it. He leans his elbows against his knees and rubs his temples. There’s a prominent vein that twists and curves just above his fingers, a definite stress indicator.
Dropping his hands, Bryson hangs his head and folds his hands, tapping his thumbs as he talks. “I told you I got involved with Andrijica a long time ago and the Croatians have snaked their way deep into my business. They use my shipping connections for their dealings. I have nothing to do with that and stay out of it.”
He leans back into the chair and I swear to God, he’s going to break it. “Last year, I had enough after a dock incident nearly cost me everything. But those damn people have embedded themselves within my company so I just couldn’t cut them off. A few weeks ago, Andri and I had finally agreed on terms to sell him that division of my company. It would legitimize them and free me from doing business with them.”
Sighing, he plaintively looks at me. “There was only one stipulation.”
“Ahh…me,” I say, my finger tapping my chest. “Or Marvy, rather.”
Nodding at my assessment, he finishes, “Like I said before, Supak incessantly talked about you, Andri wanted…I don’t know what Andrijica wanted since he’d never met you…um…her. I think it was some family rivalry thing. Andri’s fixation with Marvy was just as bad as Supak’s though.
It wasn’t till you started acting hateful and brazen toward me that I realized there was something wrong so I took a closer look at the report. I thought maybe mental issues like, bi-polar. You only have one living brother, your fraternal brother passed, and no sister. You weren’t pretending to be a different person, you were a different person. Marvy didn’t have the same memories as you did and she didn’t know things you did, like speaking Italian. I took a shot in the dark and confronted Marvy. She told me everything.”
The pillows behind me depress as my weight leans back into them. Lifting my gaze to the ceiling, I blink a few times and then close my eyes. “So now what? Are you just going to hand me and my multiple flocking identities over to the Croatian mob?”
“God, no!”
The bed dips and I slip my eyes open to see he’s sitting next to me. Bryson brushes his knuckles tenderly against my cheek. I slap his hand away and visually stab him with the evil eye. He’s so not out of the penalty box. He may never leave it.
Accepting my dissent, he pulls away. “We come up with a Plan B.”
SOAKING IN A steamy hot tub of bubbles, I let my head slide under the water. It had been a long trip, coupled with my emotionally draining run, the encounter with the man with red–violet eyes and now the fact that Bryson knows everything. Damn, the weekend has just started.
I’m tired of thinking and let go of all thoughts. The water lifts my hair and it floats lightly around my face. Like a metaphor for all the lies—drifting up and away, unburdening me. It’s kind of a relief that the truth is out, but it doesn’t change anything really. I’m still here thousands of miles from home, in the middle of a Croatian civil mob war, and I am no closer to getting out of this Federal fuck-up than I was before I left the U.S. At least I have a few allies now. It benefits Bryson to help me, even though he is a dick.
“What the Hell are you doing?” Marvy’s voice resonates through the water.
I shoot up gasping and spitting. Water and bubbles splashes everywhere as I wipe the soapy water from my face. Completely unnerved, I look around the vacant bathroom. I’m not dreaming.
“You need to get us out of here!” Marvy’s voice says.
My breathing is rapid as I try to comprehend what’s happening—how is this happening? Tightly squeezing my eyes shut behind my pressing palms, I murmur to myself, “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
This time Valeria chi
mes in, “No! If yer not gonna git us outa here, we have ta help ya. We wanna live!”
Stupidly, I say out loud. “God, can you guys just give me a break? It’s been a seriously long day and I want to relax for a minute.”
“Bitch, you don’t have a minute.”
As if talking to myself, to them rather, “Is this going to make things better?” My head swirls with the voices, but then I remember what Alex said, “Trust them; all of them.”
With a begrudging sigh and eyes still closed, I sink back into the bubbled tub. I am unsettled, but open my mind to them. I visualize talking to them as I’d done in my nightmare. The four of them come into view the way I remembered.
They have an edgy vibe about them, but it differs from mine. “How are you all talking to me? I’m not dreaming. Why have you never done this before? I could have really used you a few times.”
“Don’t be dumb, T. We’ve always been able to, we just didn’t. Do you want people to think you’re nuts?”
I guess Marvy’s right, it would make me crazy hearing their opinions and commentary all the time.
“So what’s your plan?” Marvy nervously asks.
I chew the corner of my lip wondering how this is going to work. After a cleansing breath, I start the strange internal conversation, “This is bizarre by the way, BUT that said, I guess the best course of action is we have to work together. Marvy, I need your ‘talent’ for seduction and cunningness. I’m guessing this guy Simic isn’t going to go for the girl-next-door. Valeria, I need your strength, speed, and power as a fighter. You can’t just protect Marvy anymore.”
“How can I help?” Star asks standing behind Valeria shuffling something with his foot.
Star feels familiar, but before the dream, I didn’t know he existed. “Who are you again?”
He opens his mouth to speak, but Marvy interjects before he can get a word out. “Star got you through Pre–Calc and most of your Microbiology class. He fixed Peterson’s computer program thingy too. He knows how to be a sneaky fucker.”
Pieces Of One, Part 2 (The Dark Life Collection) Page 13
