Dirty Hearts: The Lion and The Mouse (Book Three)

by Wright, Kenya

  Kazimir still didn’t look pleased.

  The general sighed and signaled for the door. Most of the soldiers left except for two that stood near the door and held several badges on their jacket.

  That dark Russian accent lay heavy in Kazimir’s tone. “What does Smirnov want?”

  The general held a smile on his face as he raised his hands, but there was no humor. “Smirnov would like a conversation, and as you well know, he will not stop until he has the discussion.”

  My lion leaned his head to the side. “And do we know what Kazimir will not stop, if he doesn’t get his peace?”

  The general backed up. “These protests must be handled.”

  “And the brotherhood will handle them?”

  The general didn’t respond.

  “My people will go out into the streets and beat old men and women? Children? For who? For what? Why would I involve them?”

  “This is the second day of protests now. Yesterday was just a tiny amount compared to today.”

  Kazimir clenched his jaw. “I am in Paris, General. Not Moscow.”

  “The protests have spread well beyond Moscow. Over ninety cities across the country have been ravaged by some sort of protest. People have come out in the hundreds in Vladivostok, in the Far East, Siberian Tomsk, Krasnodar, and Kaliningrad.”

  “I have a television for the news.”

  “Smirnov believes it is time for you all to step in.”

  “Step in? Why, to wrangle protestors unhappy with their money being stolen?” Kazimir shook his head. “And these protestors are our friends. They are people we know well. Fathers and mothers. Brothers and sisters. Co-workers. Church members.”

  The general’s smile grew darker. “You go to church?”

  “I have.” Kazimir gestured at his men. A guard headed over to the kitchen, went to a drawer, rummaged through it, and pulled out a knife.

  “This is a discussion.” The general looked taken aback. His men at the door reached for their guns.

  Kaz’s men pointed. My heart raced.

  Well...at least he hasn’t slapped him.

  Kazimir’s men stepped to the soldiers and disarmed them. Both looked to the general for some order.

  Meanwhile, another guard brought a butcher knife to Kazimir.

  The general backed up. “This is not my debate, Kazimir. I am only the messenger.”

  “Perhaps I should make you the message.”

  The general backed up again. “The only message my death would send to Smirnov is that you no longer enjoy our peaceful arrangement.”

  One of the soldiers sputtered Russian at the door. Some guy knocked him the fuck out with the back of a gun. They caught him before he fell to the floor, avoiding alerting the soldiers outside the door.

  Alrighty. Perhaps, I should’ve brought a gun in here.

  All I could do was watch and stay out of the way. Kazimir wanted to teach me about his life and, in this moment, I was seeing a major lesson.

  Never, ever fuck with Kazimir. No matter who you are.

  Kazimir grabbed the butcher knife from his guard. “The church in the town I’m from served chicken soup after service. On the first Sunday, there was always one cookie each kid got if they showed they paid attention. Therefore, I made sure to remember every verse.”

  The general looked around as if wondering if someone would talk sense to Kazimir. “I’ve given you the message.”

  “You have.” Kazimir twisted the butcher knife in his hand and stepped closer to the general.

  “Kazimir, this is not the option you want to take—”

  “The bible talks a lot about lions. Did you know that?”

  “I did, but Kazimir, Smirnov expects the Bratva and your allegiance—”

  “I have many favorite bible verses about lions.” Kazimir slammed the general against the wall.

  The general shoved his arms away and charged for him. Kazimir rammed one arm at his neck and shoved his entire body back up the wall.

  The general choked under the pressure of Kazimir’s arm. “Proverbs says, ‘the lion is the mightiest among beasts and does not turn its back before any.’”

  Okay. Maybe you should just slap him.

  Choking, the general struggled against him.

  “In Nahum 2:12, ‘the lion tore enough for his cubs and strangled prey for his lionesses.’” Kazimir reached his hand holding the butcher knife back and then slammed the weapon into the general’s chest.

  Oh shit.

  “The lion ‘filled his caves with prey and his dens with torn flesh.’” Blood spurted from the knife. Kazimir didn’t release the general’s neck as he spoke to one of his guards. “Get a bag. I want Smirnov to get the general’s head.”

  My stomach twisted. My mouth went dry. Kazimir backed away from the general. The destroyed man fell to the floor, spasming blood onto the carpet.

  I watched him die, feeling conflicted the entire time. He had only been the messenger.

  Kazimir had just killed the general with no warning. Part of me was disgusted, the other aroused. That emotion brought bile to my throat. Images of blood flashed in my head.

  I blinked.

  Sweat beaded along my forehead.

  I couldn’t stop watching the general die.

  “Mysh?”

  Blinking, I looked up. It was in that moment I realized I’d been twisting the bottom of my robe with my hands, forming a tight ball. Adrenaline coursed through me. My head spun like I’d been drinking.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I felt like I was on a rollercoaster ride going up and then suddenly with no warning, falling down.

  Another one of Kaz’s guards walked over to the general, yanked the butcher knife out of his chest, and began hacking at his neck.

  More bile rose.

  It wasn’t like I didn’t know about the sight of blood or was uncomfortable with killing. It was just that too much was hitting me and, for some reason, my body wasn’t reacting the same as it usually did.

  “Mysh?” Kazimir walked my way.

  The guard continued to hack at the general’s head. Blood spurt with each slam.

  I held my stomach, and then I realized what was going on. “I have to throw up.”

  Kaz quirked his eyebrows. “You’re sick.”

  Unable to answer, I ran off to the bathroom.

  Chapter 13

  Kazimir

  She’s pregnant. She’s seen blood before. She’s seen dead bodies, even cut off a few body parts herself.

  I grinned.

  She could watch five men die in front of her and not blink.

  But she vomited after I killed the general, and deep in my heart I knew I’d been right. Life grew inside her. Our child. I’d felt the truth of it in my heart. From time to time, as I sat at my desk, I’d even imagined what it would be like for her to be pregnant.

  And now, it may be happening.

  Emily vomited, took another shower, and left the bathroom. By that time, I’d made sure all signs of death were out of the hotel room. There could be no more problems in these next days.

  She agreed to see a doctor in Moscow, but that’s going to be too far away. I’ll have to convince her to do it here.

  I knew the very idea of motherhood scared her. But what could we do? I yearned to know. If she was with child, she would need a doctor soon.

  Could her mind handle something like this? I would have to be gentle. Take this slow.

  Emily stepped out of the bathroom. Worry creased her face.

  She’s scared. I’ll have to take my time.

  I forced myself to calm down and remain seated on the bed. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “I think it was just a lot for the morning. I’ll be okay. I just need some water—”

  “It’s time to see a doctor.”

  She widened her eyes. “When we get back to Moscow.”

  “Today.”

  “No.” She shook her head.


  “Why not?”

  She walked off. “I don’t want to.”

  “You’ve been avoiding a pregnancy test since we killed Sasha.”

  “There’s no need to get one. It’s not time for my period yet. It...it’s still due. And there isn’t any real indication I could be pregnant besides the fact we’re always fucking without a condom.”

  “And I’m always coming inside of you.”

  “That too.”

  “But now you’ve thrown up.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this now.” She tightened her robe and left the bedroom. “I’m hungry.”

  I rose, stormed after her, but kept my voice calm. “We’re going to discuss this.”

  “Apparently,” she mumbled.

  I gently grabbed her arm and stopped her from walking down the hallway. “Talk to me, mysh.”

  “I...”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to be pregnant right now.”

  My heart ached.

  I should’ve taken my time.

  I let go of her arm and whispered, “Why not?”

  “Because...” She looked down at the ground. “Am I...mother material? I just found out over a month ago that I like to kill guys and—”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “I would think a good mother doesn’t kill people.”

  “Mine did, and she was an excellent mother.”

  Emily turned her view to me. “Who did your mom kill?”

  “Anybody who got in our way. Not important men, but enough. She even choked a police officer long ago. It was the first time I’d ever seen anyone die in front of me. I was seven.”

  Emily touched her chest. “Why did she kill the cop?”

  “I grew up in poverty and surrounded by government corruption. Criminals and the unwanted made up my community. Cops required an extra payment from households. They came there personally to fatten their pockets. My father was gone and left my mother alone with two kids. One night, my mother didn’t have any money to give the cop. He decided to take her body instead.”

  Emily widened her eyes.

  “I watched my mother kill him. My father returned with my uncle and they hid the body.”

  “Uncle Igor?”

  “Yes. So, sometimes mothers do kill. Those actually are the best ones. The kids know they’re safer. The child looks up and sees beauty and strength. They are better because of it.” I tenderly took her arm, gazed into her eyes, and forced myself to say the words I’d never wanted to utter. “However, if you don’t want to have our child, I will understand, and we will...we will do what is required in that situation.”

  She remained silent.

  My heart tightened. I couldn’t end this topic with just that. “But if you decide to not have our child, let it be more than fear that stops you.”

  She swallowed.

  “We don’t get scared, mysh, not when we’re in this together. Not when I will move mountains and put holes in cities to make sure you’re happy and safe, and that my child is freer than any human walking this planet.”

  She let out a long breath. “You’re not scared?”

  I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. “I’m happy.”

  “We don’t know yet.”

  “I’m sure of it. You’re pregnant.” I pulled her into my arms. “I’m excited. Let’s confirm it as soon as possible.”

  She moved away from my arms but held my hand. “Give me a day or two.”

  I guided her to the dining area. I’d already asked the chef to make breakfast. “I’ll give you a day or two. Whatever you want.”

  She paused right before we entered. “Okay.”

  “Yes?”

  She let out a long breath. “Let’s find out.”

  “I can call a doctor now.”

  “No.” She trembled a little. “Give me a few days. And we have more things to think about right now. How long will we be in Paris?”

  I’d planned on taking us back to Moscow in a few days, but due to the dead chimpanzee hanging in our bedroom, I wasn’t ready to bring her back. I wanted to be able to give her some names. She would want to kill him, and I would want the son of a bitch dead.

  “I want to spend some more time with you in Paris,” I said. “We’re on vacation.”

  “Kazimir, you just killed your president’s general. I wouldn’t call this a holiday.”

  I shrugged. “That was a technicality that couldn’t be avoided.”

  “What is Smirnov going to do?”

  “Send another general.” I gritted my teeth. “I’ll have to call him soon.”

  “You think?” She gave a nervous laugh. “Perhaps, you can fit calling the president into your schedule.”

  With a wicked grin, I guided her to the dining table. “I’ll call Smirnov after breakfast, if that will make the baby and you feel better.”

  She stirred in her chair. Already, I could see her ready to run from the table, but it was too late for escape with my mouse.

  “Kazimir, we’re not saying I’m pregnant until I know for sure.”

  “There’s no need to hide from the truth.”

  She gave a nervous laugh. “I can’t with you this morning. I can’t.”

  “Well, I can.”

  “That doesn’t work.”

  “It does.” I knitted my fingers together on the table. “What do you want to do today?”

  “Besides hear that you’ve called your president and straightened everything out?”

  “Yes,” I grumbled. “Besides that. Do you want to see some art? The usual tourist things? Or...”

  Intrigue hit her eyes. “Or? And you better not say anything about a doctor.”

  “I won’t.” I formed my lips into a smile. “I’ll stay quiet about it for now. Until then, do you want me to take you on a surprise date?”

  She raised her eyebrows. Her face brightened, but her voice was still shaky. “I’m kind of excited to see what your surprise would be.”

  “It’s perfect. Not a typical tourist thing, although some have been courageous enough to do it.”

  “Hmmm.” The nervous expression never left her face. “This sounds good. I’m down. And what about your president?”

  I let out a long breath. “I’ll deal with him before the date.”

  “Good.”

  And so, my mouse and I had breakfast.

  Although someone had tried to lift her fingerprints in Paris and another had sent her a bloody message in Moscow, we laughed without a care in the world. I’d been in Paris not even a full twenty-four hours and had already killed two men—the driver and the general. Somewhere in between that, my mouse was terrified of being pregnant.

  I’m on vacation. More will die, if they bother me. But, whatever I do, I’ll take my time with her on the pregnancy topic.

  When we finished breakfast, Emily refused to drop the president problem. I could tell the general’s death worried her. In fact, I should’ve been a little concerned. But how could I think of anything else, knowing our child may be growing inside her?

  For my mouse, I swallowed my pride and called President Smirnov. She sat at the desk with me as I put the phone on speaker.

  Smirnov answered on the first ring. Agitation filled his voice. “Kazimir—”

  “Listen to me. I’m on vacation.”

  “The disrespect that you’ve—”

  “Enough!” I formed my hand into a fist.

  Silence hit the other line.

  Emily bit her lip and covered my fist with her soft hand. Instantly, I calmed. “Here’s a response to your message. You want the protests to stop. The brotherhood will help. That is the deal.”

  Smirnov mumbled, “You will help?”

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “They’ll be off the streets in a few hours. They leave and you don’t disturb my vacation anymore.”

  “Well...then, good. Yes. Good.” Not a complete fool, Smirnov asked, “And what do
you expect in return?”

  “Everything.” I hung up the phone.

  Be lucky I didn’t send men to the Kremlin.

  Emily’s face still held concern. “So?”

  “That’s done. Let’s go on our date.” I rose from the desk.

  She fell into step. “But what are you going to do? How will you get the protestors to leave the streets?”

  I grinned. “I’m going to do the most logical thing. A solution that, for centuries, not many governments have figured out.”

  “What?”

  “If the people are out in the streets protesting because they’re hungry, then how do you get them off, mysh? Do I shoot them? No. Their kids will come back. Their aunts. Their uncles. It’ll fuel them to fight more. And I’m not in the business of killing innocent people for a corrupt machine like the Kremlin.” I turned to her and smiled. “So how do you get hungry protestors off the streets?”

  “You feed them?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “Smirnov won’t like that solution. The brotherhood will look like Guardian Angels, going out into the streets giving people money and bringing food supplies.”

  “Can the Bratva handle something like this?”

  “No, but all I need them to do is deliver the food supplies and money to Gukovo.”

  “The opposition leader?”

  “Yes. He’ll make sure everyone is off the streets and fed.”

  She smiled at me. “I like that solution. I imagine it will still piss Smirnov off, but at least you’ve got the people’s back.”

  “And, even more important, we can enjoy Paris without killing any more generals.”

  “Well, that’s also a plus.”

  It is indeed. Finally, we can have a fucking vacation.

  That afternoon, I took her to the Catacombs of Paris. It had been a bitch to rent out in such little time, but after a six-figure price offer, they’d closed it down for us.

  Any other woman would’ve wanted to see the Louvre or Eiffel Tower. Maybe that woman would’ve wanted a picnic in a garden or a horse and carriage ride around the city.

  While I was sure Emily still wanted to check those sites out, there was pure joy on her face when we arrived.

  My mouse is more than the average woman. And she’s all mine.

  When we arrived, her voice sounded cheery. “What is this place?”