Текст книги "Lev"
Автор книги: Belle Aurora
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 1 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
Lev: a Shot Callers novel
Published by Belle Aurora
Copyright © 2015 Belle Aurora
First published October 2015
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Request: Copyright Approval” at [email protected].
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Belle Aurora is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs or musicians or artists mentioned in this book.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Epilogue
Chapter One
Mina
I was dying. I hadn’t been surer of anything in my life.
As I sat in the alley, staring at the dirty brick wall stained with substances I’d rather not think of, I wondered if this was the place it would happen.
My stomach gave a loud growl of complaint, and rather than feeling hungry, pain consumed me. My lips quivered, and I curled in on myself, hugging my arms around my bent legs, my forehead resting on my knees. It was then, hidden away from the prying eyes of spectators, that I cried.
The warmth of the tears I shed were hardly a comfort to me. I did, however, take solace in knowing I still felt something. Anything.
I was starving, quite literally. It had been days since I ate anything. Last week, I’d become so desperate I ate from the trash. My desperation turned to regret in a matter of hours. I got sick to my stomach from the rancid food, throwing up until I was emptier than I had been before. I wouldn’t be taking that risk again. It wasn’t worth it.
It left me feeling more than desperation. I felt hopelessness.
Not ready to accept my fate, I realized in complete calm that I would become nothing more than a statistic if I didn’t do something about my current situation.
The first item on my list: Find food.
It was late. The sounds of the city streets were quieting down, and many of the stores in my view had turned off their neons. I needed to move quickly if I had any chance of finding something to eat.
I pulled the compact mirror out of my jacket pocket and wiped the stains of the three-day-old mascara from under my eyes. I didn’t need that mirror to show me I was pale and that my cheeks were sunken. I felt like a walking skeleton. Looked like one too. My collarbone protruded harshly, my shoulders were pointed, and my cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut. I hid my body under the coat I’d been given at the women’s shelter, but there was no hiding my face.
Anyone could tell I was emaciated.
I wrapped my arms around myself, my body in a constant state of chill, and walked out of my alley. I didn’t have to walk long before I spotted a Styrofoam container sitting on a table outside of a restaurant that had closed for the night. With my eyes on the prize, my stomach rumbled in excitement as I walked casually over to it. When I got there, I felt eyes on me. I lifted my face to see a young boy, no older than sixteen, looking back at me.
I wanted to cry as soon as I realized he looked very much like me… thin, dirty, and hungry. I knew what it felt like to be hungry. I’d been hungry for years. He eyed me a long moment before he returned his eyes to the container.
I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t take it from him. And I could have. I’m a fast runner. Instead, as I felt the familiar prickling behind my eyes and nose, I jerked my chin toward to container and smiled.
He stood there, looking tired and dejected, scratching at his arm. Neither of us moved. A moment of optimism shot through me. If he wasn’t going to take it, I would.
Finally, he stepped forward, and recognizing part of himself in me, he started to speak as he opened the container. “We can share.”
We both looked down at our findings and my heart sank. A few stiff French fries sat in the bottom of the box, as well as the hardened crust of a sandwich and a few leaves of wilted, brown lettuce.
The boy, looking angry with himself for offering part of his slim fare, held the box out to me. And I couldn’t help but smile. It was funny how people who had nothing would offer everything to those in need, and people who had comfort scarcely offered it to people who needed it.
My stomach growled angrily and I turned my smile on the boy. I lied through that smile. “No thanks. I’m not hungry.”
The tilt of his brow told me he didn’t believe me, but he shrugged and walked away with the box, leaving me alone to regret my decision.
God, you’re stupid.
I nodded slowly to myself. I knew that already.
My numb feet took me three more blocks before I came across a sandwich bar that was closing. A man with short brown hair stacked chairs from outside the deli and brought them in before moving to close the door.
“Wait,” I called, rushing over.
The man frowned down at me, his dark eyes scrutinizing my every move. “What? We’re closed.”
I lowered my eyes and spoke quietly. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir. I was just wondering whether you had any food that you were about to throw out.” I peered up at him. “Anything would do. I’m not picky.”
“You’re hungry?” He scowled at me, his lip curling. “Get a job.”
The door moved to close a second time and I panicked, placing my foot in the way. My eyes widened in shock at the bold move. That wasn’t like me at all. The door was stopped a few inches before it shut, and the man looked down at my foot before looking back up at me and glowering. “I should beat your ass, girl. Move your foot or I’ll break the fucking thing.”
My lips quivered as my vision blurred. “I’m so hungry. Please,” I begged. “Please.”
His scowl left him a moment to study my face. He opened the door another few inches before looking up and down the street. “You want food?”
I nodded enthusiastically.
He leaned back a little to leer at me. “Suck my dick and you’ll get fed.”
I didn’t believe it possible, but I paled further then whispered, “I just want something to eat. It doesn’t have to be much. I-I,” I stuttered, “I don’t want to do that. Please.”
His scowl returned, harder than before. “Obviously not hungry enough.” He jerked his chin toward the street. “Get the fuck out of here, bitch.”
As he closed the door, locking it, I fell into full-fledged panic, my stomach turning violently. I threw myself at the glass door, pounding my fists against it until my knuckles throbbed sorely. My voice broke as I cried quietly, tears of regret sliding down my cheeks, “Please! I-I’m sorry! I’ll do it!” But the man left my vision as he walked into the back room, turning the lights off behind him.
My shoulders shook as I sobbed in complete silence.
Angry with myself, I yelled a broken, “I’ll do it, dammit!” and slammed my fist against the glass.
But the door remained closed. I slid down the glass door to sit on the icy-cold cement of the sidewalk, crying weakly. My head pounding, hungry, heartsick, and humiliated, my tears stopped suddenly as I closed my eyes and realized my situation was worse than I thought.
I was officially at an all-time low. But not for long. I was desperate, and desperation was a damn good motivator.
Chapter Two
Lev
I stood by the door staring at my brother as he spoke to the man trembling in the chair by the solid marble desk. It didn’t take much for me to recognize he was angry. That familiar bored glare told me everything I needed to know. He didn’t raise his voice. He never raised his voice. That wasn’t Sasha’s style.
“How long we been friends, Paolo?” He spoke slowly but firmly.
The man didn’t answer. There was no point in answering. Sasha wasn’t friends with anyone. He merely tolerated people.
Sasha looked up at me, his light brown eyes hard. “How long we been friends with Paolo, Lev?”
My mind was quick to calculate. I answered immediately, “Three years, two months, and four days.”
The moment I finished, Sasha repeated, “Three years.” He stood up from his sitting position. “Two months.” He moved around the desk and sat in front of the short, stocky man. “And four days.” Then he scowled, lowering his voice to a hush. “That’s a long time, Paolo.” He made a show of removing his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves. “So when I hear my friends are leaving me to work with Laredo, I begin to wonder if my friend was a friend at all.”
Paolo blanched before straightening. “Who told you that?” He tried to scoff, but it came out a wheeze. “That’s bullshit, Sash. I told you I’m taking some time off. My Vera doesn’t like the hours I’m keeping. Keeps saying I don’t spend enough time at home. Missing out on the kids growing up and all that shit.” Then he forced a smile. “You know what they say. Happy wife, happy life.”
Sasha closed his eyes, running his hand, decorated with thick silver rings, through his hair with a sigh. His cheek ticked. “I don’t like liars, Paolo. You know this. You’ve seen what happens to liars.” He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his neck from side-to-side, working out the kinks. “Why are you lying to me?”
Then he did something stupid. He lied again. “I’m not working with Laredo. I swear to God, I’m not.”
I shook my head. The man was an idiot. You didn’t lie to Sasha. You didn’t lie to any Leokov.
Sasha’s eyes opened with a flash. He took a deep breath before laying it out there. “There was a meet this morning at Aphrodite’s Kiss.” Paolo blanched, but Sasha went on. “It was kind of funny, actually.” The look on Sasha’s face told us there was nothing funny about this situation. “Laredo told the boys that I needed to treat my staff better, or else they’d follow your lead. Said he’d welcome any and all of them with open arms.”
The short man blustered, turning bright red. “W-well, he’s full of shit!”
“You embarrass me,” Sasha said in a calm hush.
Paolo stood when he realized it was over. It was done. He was caught. “I never wanted this, Sash. You forced my hand. I can’t keep working like this. You’re so fucking demanding.” He panted before begging for understanding, “I had a goddamn heart attack last month! I nearly died. This job is killing me!”
Sasha nodded thoughtfully. The near silence in the room felt thick with the soft sounds of Paolo’s wheeze. Finally, Sasha stood, and to the complete disbelief of the short man, he held out his hand. “Good luck.”
Paolo, not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, took the outstretched hand and shook it. “I’m sorry, Sash. Really, I am.”
Sasha shook his hand firmly before letting go. “Me too.” He added, “We’ll miss you ‘round here.” He walked back behind his desk. “I’ve got a couple of things to finish up. Go down to the bar and we’ll have a drink before you leave.”
It was clear that Paolo couldn’t believe his ears, or his luck. “Don’t go to any trouble—”
But he was cut off with Sasha’s firm, “I insist.”
Paolo smiled then, the idiot. “Okay. I’ll be there.”
He turned and moved to walk out, but I stood my ground, eyeing him. The little man looked up at me. He seemed afraid.
People didn’t like me.
I didn’t blame them.
We stood there another moment before Sasha spoke again, gently this time. “Let the man pass, Lev.”
I heard my brother, but I didn’t want to listen. I didn’t like Paolo.
Another moment, then again, “Move, Lev.”
I stepped to the side and let the idiot pass. As soon as he was out the door, I closed it behind him and said what needed to be said. “He’s a liability.”
Sasha sighed as he sat. “I know.” He picked up the phone, and after a short while, he spoke into the receiver. “I need you.” Without another word, he hung up.
We waited in silence, and when the knock sounded, I opened the door for the tall, slim man. He wore jeans, tennis shoes, and a short-sleeved blue polo shirt. He wore glasses and looked sophisticated with his blond hair gelled back, but nothing could hide the pock-scars on his cheeks. “What’s up?”
Sasha nodded toward the door, and I closed it behind us, locking it. The tall man smirked playfully. “Should I be worried? I feel like I just got called into the principal’s office.”
Sasha ran a hand down his face, pausing to squeeze the bridge of his nose. “Can you induce a heart attack?”
He leaned against the wall and sighed dramatically. “Well, shit. And today was such a good day.”
Sasha glared at him. “Is it doable, Pox?”
Pox grinned. “Yeah, it is. It might take a while to get the dosage right. It’ll take a bit of this, a bit of that. Most of the shit is illegal or off the market. When do you need it by?”
“Fifteen minutes. At max.”
Pox straightened and sputtered. “You’re out of your fucking mind.” He shook his head in earnest. “No way. I can’t do it.”
I spoke up, “I know a man who deals in pharmaceuticals. The price will be high, but he can get everything you need.” I added, “They deliver.”
Pox turned to me slowly, blinked, and then glanced back at Sasha. “You are some scary motherfuckers.” His voice was full of admiration.
I gave him the phone number and listened as Pox cursed at the absurd prices for the things he needed.
The delivery boy arrived in ten minutes. The concoction was made, dissolved, and slipped into the sixth shooter Paolo drank. The men sputtered and laughed as Paolo coughed before righting himself. Sasha smiled foxlike before calling over some of the girls.
The club turned into roaring chaos when Paolo, in the midst of getting a lap dance, suffered a heart attack. Sasha performed CPR until the ambulance arrived. Witnesses told the police that Sasha did everything he could to save Paolo.
Unfortunately, he didn’t make it.
Chapter Three
Mina
I didn’t have much of a plan.
Okay. So I didn’t have a plan at all.
After spending another fruitless night in my alley, my body was cold, chilled to the bone. I just wanted to go somewhere I’d be warm. Unfortunately, it was past midnight, and there weren’t a lot of options as far as I could see.
I could go into the convenience store for a while, but they would expect me to buy something, and seeing as I had no money and looked as though I had no money, they’d turn me on my ass before I could say boo.
There was the fast food restaurant with the bright red and yellow sign, but I didn’t think I could handle being engulfed in the smell of burgers and fries without bursting into tears for want.
I decided to turn and walk the opposite direction, when I noticed a group of men exit a building. They were laughing and looked happily drunk. Drunk was good. People did odd things when they were drinking.
My stomach rumbled loudly and my decision was made. I would find the tipsiest man in the club and seduce him. When he passed out, I’d take his wallet and be on my merry way. I could make a small amount of money go a long way if I had to.
I needed to eat. I felt ashamed that I would resort to low lengths to do that, but I was sick of being me. Mina was friendly, and honest, and kind. Being me got me nowhere. I was floating down shit creek without a paddle.
The white sign above the door read Bleeding Hearts in simple, elegant font. Steadying myself, I pushed open one side of the huge double doors and stepped inside.
A tall, bulked-up man with a crew cut and an impeccable suit looked down at me. He was not amused. “You lost?”
I shook my head before swallowing hard and muttering, “Just looking for somewhere to drink.”
That changed his attitude quick enough. He opened the second set of doors and loud RnB blasted into the foyer. “We don’t get a lot of ladies down here. The bar is to the right. Have a good night.”
I had been called a lot of things in my life, but never a lady. I suddenly felt regretful of my reason for being here. Regardless, I walked inside and felt immediate warmth. A shiver of delight caused my skin to break out in gooseflesh.
Finally!
I could’ve crowed with happiness, but I had more important things to think about. Before I made my way to the bar, I was drawn to the left.
Two women with gorgeous bodies swung around provocatively on poles, dressed in nothing but little scraps of material covering their privates. The blonde woman had glitter pasties stuck to her nipples. The redhead’s nipples were pierced.
Ah. I got it then.
“We don’t get a lot of ladies down here.”
My cheeks turned bright pink as men hollered up at the dancing girls. My gut rolled. The bouncer must have thought I was a complete pervert.
I pulled my hair over my face to hide my flaming cheeks and found an empty bar stool in the corner of the room, hidden from light. It was the perfect place to search for the man who would help feed me.
My eyes scanned the room through the dim lighting of the club. There were too many of them. I’d have to get closer.
I stayed by my stool a while before I made my move. My heart raced as anxiety took over me. I took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. My back ramrod straight, I would find my savior right here, in this very room.
I just didn’t know what he looked like yet.
***
Lev
I was drawn to her immediately. Intrigue held me captive.
My brow furrowed as I watched her. What was she doing in a place like this? It was clear she didn’t belong here.
By the look of her, she didn’t belong quite anywhere. She was so small her black coat was at least three sizes too big, and the way she covered her face with her long dark hair was so childlike that my chest hurt.
That was new. It surprised me. I wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad, but it made me take a step toward her.
I managed to spot one doe-like eye peeping through her hair as she stared openly at the girls on stage. Obviously, she hadn’t come to see dancing girls. From the shock on her face, she didn’t know Bleeding Hearts was a strip joint.
Reaching up, she moved to cover her face with her hair once more before she lowered her head and scurried along to the dark side of the bar. It pleased me that she chose that spot. It was the spot I normally sat. Warmth spread through my torso.
The club was almost at capacity. As news of Paolo’s death carried, Sasha spread the word that he would be opening the club to friends and family. No cover charge. Drinks were on the house.
This, of course, meant that my keen eyesight would have to be keener tonight. Sasha didn’t like trouble. I kept trouble from arising.
The girls behind the bar served customers, smiles pasted onto their faces, even though they would be worked to the bone. The tips would be worth the straying hands and ogling eyes.
Sasha came out from behind the door. His eyes met mine almost instantly and he jerked his chin at me in greeting. I returned it.
When I was younger, Sasha taught me it was rude to ignore a greeting. I was never any good at taking cues from other people. Conversation was painful. I didn’t like to speak unless spoken to, and even then, I would rarely talk unless a question was asked.
My brother was a hard man, but he was also patient. And growing up with me was not easy, I was sure. He never raised his voice to me, even when I was told I was being unreasonable. He was kind and understanding, and he explained things to me in a way I would understand.
I was six years old when my parents realized something was wrong with me. Our family dog, Mishka, ran out into the road and was hit by car. When my father told me she hadn’t survived, I simply nodded then ran upstairs to my room to process.
That was where I was found, hours later, covered in blood after slamming my head into my bedroom wall, over and over. My father rushed me to the emergency room. I’d opened the side of my head to the bone. They stitched me up, but still, I didn’t cry.
When the doctor asked if this was something that happened often, my father got angry. He said there was nothing wrong with me and that it was an accident. The doctor calmly explained that he could help, but my father picked me up and took me home.
In the car, he turned to me and said, “You are my son and I love you. There is nothing wrong with you.” But as the years went on, it became clear to anyone who met me that there was something wrong with me.
Although I smiled on occasion, I never laughed. I was able to remember almost every detail of every conversation I had ever had. I was smart in an abnormal way, and could calculate large sums in my mind. I did not understand or process emotion as others did. I didn’t cry. And I never lied.
People called me a cyborg.
I didn’t like that.
My sister, Nastasia, beat the shit out of the kids who dared to tease me. Sasha never had to raise a finger. All he would need to do was glare at them and they’d run scared.
Time went on, and Sasha helped me while Nastasia loved me unconditionally. Sasha taught me to respond to people in a casual fashion and helped me read cues. I still wasn’t any good at taking prompts from people. If you didn’t tell me what you were feeling, chances were I wouldn’t know.
Nastasia told me there was nothing wrong with me. That it wasn’t my fault I was smarter than everyone else. She said that if the rest of the world didn’t have shit for brains then I wouldn’t be so special, so I should be grateful.
The young woman moved amongst the crowd in a seemingly casual way, but I saw more in the way she watched the men with a hawk’s eye.
She was up to something. And I would find out exactly what.
***
Mina
It was harder than it looked, choosing a man to seduce.
It didn’t help that most of the men in the club were in their late forties and fifties and smelled like sweat combined with vodka, and that stale musty smell people got when they’d been drinking too much. It was funny that I felt the need to complain about smell, when I likely smelled just as bad. I should be grateful if one of these men took pity on me.
When one man grabbed at my hand and yelled in my ear, “Part of the entertainment?” I shook my head in panic, snatched my arm away, and dashed away, back to my corner.
Mentally scolding myself, I regrouped. He would’ve been a good candidate. Sure, he was old and fat and balding, but he wore nice rings and likely had a full wallet. Closing my eyes, I sighed.
What am I doing?
I scoffed, shaking my head before I stood. I couldn’t sleep with any of these men; it didn’t matter how hungry I was. And I was stupid to think I would be able to go through with my ridiculous plan.
Straightening, I moved to leave the club. Just as I was walking past a group of rowdy men, an attractive middle-aged man leaned over the bar to speak to one of the gorgeous bartenders.
I stilled, and everything else melted away.
The man’s wallet hung out of his back pocket half an inch.
It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough.
My feet took me over to him before I’d even mentally decided on what to do. I really didn’t want to steal this guy’s wallet. I just wanted to live another day. It wasn’t personal. It was life.
A foot away from the man, I stood with my back to him, and with quick fingers, I lifted the wallet out, whisper soft. I shoved it into my coat and, heart racing, looked around until I saw the neon light for the ladies room.
I didn’t stop to think. I ran.
Making my way down the narrow hall, I shoved the heavy door open. It was empty. I looked around with wide eyes before rushing into one of the many vacant stalls, seating myself on the closed toilet seat to see how I’d done.
The wallet was heavy. I opened it with shaking fingers. My curse hung in the air then I laughed to myself as I pulled out the stack of hundred dollar bills. I didn’t count them all, but I was sure there was close to seven hundred dollars there. Dropping the wallet on the floor, I shoved the money into my pocket and moved to unlock the stall. Just as my fingers touched the cool metal, my conscience glared at me.
Why was the man carrying so much money? I wondered. Perhaps that withdrawal, that specific amount, was for something important. And I was taking it from him. He likely worked hard for that money, and here I was, stealing it.
I pulled the money out of my pocket, a frown marring my brow. I didn’t need all this money. I only needed enough to get by for a little while.
Removing two of the hundred dollar bills, I placed the others back into the wallet. But my conscience still wasn’t happy. Sighing, I took another hundred and put it back into the wallet, leaving me with only one.
A hundred dollars was nothing to sneeze at. I could make that hundred go a long way. It would feed me for two weeks, three at most. I’d come by something else by then.
Satisfied with my haul, I held onto the wallet, opened the stall door, and froze.
I hadn’t heard the door open, but the tall man leaning against the wall had clearly been there a while. His light brown eyes on me, arms crossed over his chest, he looked down at the evidence in my hand and said one word.
“Explain.”
