Chapter 7 #2
Ev looks to me and Max. “I feel like our family is slightly more sane. Yeah, we have Sasha, but they basically have three of him, so the math is gonna math on this one.”
“Please tell me that one day you’re going to say the math is gonna math to a jury.” I give him an almost pleading look when I add, “I can’t tell you how happy that would make me.”
We all laugh while Ev says, “Maybe I will. I plan on being good enough to be able to pull it off.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second,” I say. “If anyone could pull it off, it’s you. Just make sure you’re wearing your smarty glasses while you do it. The jury will eat that up.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, and then Lyra gives a happy squeal and he’s forced to smile instead of telling us all to fuck off like he’d prefer.
I look at my watch and tell him we need to go. We wave to Lyra who returns it with the all-out exuberance that kids do so well as Max and Talia follow us to the door.
“Call me if you need me,” Max says.
“Okay, Dad,” I tease.
“I’m being serious,” he says.
I laugh while Ev says, “That’s what makes it so cute.”
“They’ll be fine,” Talia tells him. “The math might be mathing, but my family won’t let anything happen to them.”
“Nice,” I tell Talia, giving her a grin while I walk to one of the black motorcycles Dima and Bran left for us.
“You’re laughing now,” Ev says, grabbing the helmet on the seat, “but if our asses end up in the ocean tonight, I may never forgive you.”
“I’m more worried about our asses ending up in a strip club, to be honest,” I tell him.
Ev groans. “Don’t say that. If I wanted to spend the night surrounded by strippers, I could do that back home. I have no desire to sit in a club with a bunch of guys sporting hard-ons.”
“You and me both. Let me ask Bran.” Pulling out my phone, I send a quick voice text, asking him if he knows what’s going on tonight.
Ev and I both listen to the response as it’s read aloud. “I’m not sure. I hate going to the clubs. I was planning on staying home tonight.”
I quickly send a reply. “No fucking way, Bran. Ev and I are going. We need you with us so we don’t end up in some strip club or ass deep in the ocean.”
“Those are the two choices? Why on earth would I ever pass that up?”
Even though the monotone voice that speaks his message doesn’t capture the sarcasm, Ev still smirks at his response while I speak into my phone. “Come on, Bran. Help us out.”
“Fine, but it better not be the nightmare I think it’s going to be.”
“Well, that bodes well,” Ev says, pulling his helmet on and starting his bike.
The roar of the engine is louder and deeper than the higher-pitched braap of the dirt bikes, and, even though I miss the one I had to leave in New York, there’s no denying this one is beautiful and going to be a lot of fun to ride.
The Medvedevs aren’t cheap. I’ll give them that. Even their extras are top of the line.
It only takes a couple of minutes to get to the main house, and when we pull in, the others are already waiting and ready to go.
The driveway is filled with motorcycles, and even though helmets cover their heads, it’s painfully obvious that none of them are Sitka.
That knowledge alone annoys the hell out of me.
I was hoping she’d be the one good thing about going out.
Her presence would’ve made it all worth it.
Ev and I stop near the others in just enough time to see Bran walk out the front door. He’s pulling a hoodie on while also finishing off the last half of a sandwich. He doesn’t look thrilled to be joining the party, but at least he agreed to come.
Walking over to his Ducati, he finds Dima and signs, I’m coming. No fucking strip clubs, brother.
I whisper a silent thanks into my helmet for at least getting out of that one, and then watch as Dima signs, You’re no fun.
Completely unfazed, Bran shrugs and puts his helmet on before starting his bike.
Dima signs and yells, “We’re going to Inferno,” loud enough for everyone to hear.
I hear a few sharp whistles of approval and something that sounds like a howl.
One of the Kawasakis races out of the driveway, and when he’s close to one of the security lights, I see the scales of the serpent design and the row of sharp, jagged teeth and know it’s Yuri.
We all follow behind him, and as soon as we’re past the main gate, two other Kawasakis join him.
They immediately pop wheelies and fly down the dark road.
I love riding dirt bikes, but for me there’s no greater thrill than a motorcycle and an open road.
I gun it, pushing the bike hard while staying with the group.
The roads around here are empty, the forest looming on either side of us, and nothing but our headlights to show the way.
Yuri speeds up, disappearing around a tight curve as he leans into it.
Misha is right on his ass. I see a flash of the skull that’s painted on his helmet before he passes his brother and takes the lead, flipping him off as he does it.
The wind whips around us, and I know I’d be freezing my ass off if I hadn’t worn my jacket.
With Ev on my right, we ride for several more miles until we eventually hit some light traffic.
We pass them in small groups, but the closer we get to the city, the heavier the traffic gets until we’re forced to slow down to a reasonable speed.
At our first red light, I look around, taking in the city around us.
It’s not nearly as big as the one I just came from, but it’s big enough to give that city feel.
With my feet on the road, I wait for the light to turn green as a large group of girls crosses the intersection in front of us.
I can’t imagine they aren’t freezing their asses off in the short dresses and heels they’ve decided to wear, but they’re nothing but smiles and flirty waves when they see us.
When they giggle, I look over and see Tyoma giving them a cutesy wave of his fingers. His helmet has a large grey wolf on it, and I’m guessing he was the one I’d heard howling before we left.
After a few more giggles, the girls finally clear the road, and as soon as the light switches, we peel out and keep going.
I’ve never been to Inferno, the club their Bratva owns, but I’ve heard stories about it.
After several more intersections and a few turns, Dima pulls into the parking lot.
The club is huge, painted black with Inferno written in red along the side.
There’s a long line out front, and even before I’ve cut my engine, I can hear the deep pulse of the music coming from inside.
Once my helmet is off, I take a look around, noticing the large library across from us and the smaller bars and restaurants that run up and down the street we’re on.
We make a killing on the clubs we own, and I imagine they’re doing the same with this one.
It’s a great location, and the line of young women and men shows how popular it is.
It’s only a Thursday, and it’s already packed.
“Here goes nothing,” Ev says while we join the others and head inside. The guy at the door nods at Dima and then quickly steps aside to let us all through. I see the group out front staring at us, but no one says anything as we cut in front of all of them.
The club is exactly how I pictured it—too loud, too dark, and way too crowded.
I’m not sure when I decided to become an old man about certain things, but this is definitely one of those moments when I feel like the odd man out.
Misha, Yuri, and Tyoma head straight for the large dance floor that’s already writhing with bodies, joining in with the confidence of someone who knows they’ll never be turned away.
The crowd parts for them, but not for long.
Within seconds, they each have a girl grinding up against them.
“Come on,” Dima shouts over the music, motioning for us to follow him to the upper level. There’s a large table in the corner with a reserved sign on it. We all take a seat, and I notice the way Bran makes sure to grab the one that puts his back to the wall so he can see everything.
A waitress immediately starts walking over, nothing but a big smile, a too-tight top, and a skirt that will show every bit of her if she bends over.
Kostya gives an appreciative groan and says, “Damn, Liv, you’re looking good tonight.”
She grins at him, jutting her hip a little closer to his shoulder when she steps in and asks, “What can I get you guys tonight?”
Dima, Bran, and Aleks are the only ones at the table old enough to drink, but I’m not surprised when Bran signs that he wants a Coke instead.
Dima tells her, then orders a shot of vodka for himself and gets a couple more for whenever Misha and Yuri come back.
The rest of us stick with Cokes. Kostya watches her walk off and then turns to Dima.
“I can’t believe you fucked that and didn’t go back for seconds.”
“I never go back for seconds. You know that,” Dima tells him.
Kostya may know it, but it’s clear he doesn’t understand it.
“She’d fuck you. Why don’t you go for her?” Dima asks.
Kostya shrugs and runs a tattooed hand through his hair.
Bran taps the table, following along with the conversation because they’ve been speaking and signing. When we turn to him, he signs, He doesn’t want your sloppy seconds, Dima.
Dima looks offended and turns to Kostya. “You don’t want my seconds?”
Kostya laughs. “Not particularly.” Then curiosity gets the better of him. “How was she?”
“I don’t remember,” he admits. “I didn’t even remember her name until you just said it.”
Bran looks at his brother. You are such a whore.
“Me? I think you’re mistaking me for Misha and Yuri.”
The corner of Bran’s mouth lifts up. All three of you are whores.
Dima doesn’t look even remotely offended. “I never promise them anything I can’t deliver.”