Chapter 15 #2
Popov smiled at her in acknowledgment and requested a scotch. I didn’t particularly feel like drinking, but I mirrored his mood and requested vodka as well.
“If there’s anything more you need,” the bartender said as she placed our drinks on the counter, “you know where to find me, Mr. Popov.”
The look she gave him was far from subtle. While on principle, I didn’t like the idea of a worker flirting with a patron, this kind of behavior was popular in scenes like these. As long as there was no coercion involved, I could look past it.
“You come here often then?” I asked Popov. He seemed familiar enough with the bartender, yet I hadn’t seen him before tonight, since I took over the club.
“From time to time.” He took a long gulp of his drink and nodded in the direction of the woman who kept glancing back at us. “Guess I left an impression on her.”
“You knew Vasiliev well then?”
“Do you ever really know someone as well as you think you do?” He gave a shrug. “We did some business between our territories, but he was always far braver than I was.”
“Do you think he would have approved of the changes I’ve made?”
“Who cares? You’re the brigadier now—one of us.”
He put down his drink and reached over to place his hand on mine on top of the counter. Revulsion crept into my stomach, and I had to fight the instinct to fling his away. I was never raised with affection, and I didn’t like touching people or being touched without a reason.
“You see, we’re a close bunch,” he continued, either oblivious to my discomfort or ignoring it.
“We have to be in order to be successful at what we do. You need any help, I’m your guy.
Unless you’re looking for a fuck—” A low laugh rasped through his throat.
“In that case, Aistov’s your guy, but I have to warn you not to become attached. He gets bored easily.”
“He’s barking up the wrong tree.”
“He can be quite persistent.” Popov leaned his forearms against the bar, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “But seriously, you’ve moved from being head of security to running a territory. I don’t know whether that’s a promotion or a demotion. How’s it going?”
“It’s very different, that’s for sure,” I said with a grunt. “I’m quickly learning Maxim has two personalities, and I’m not used to the side of him that I have to answer to. Usually, he listens to me because it’s a matter of his safety.”
“This position is permanent, then?”
“Who knows? I’m still feeling it out.”
“Well, don’t knock it too early. Many perks come with running our own territory, and Morozov is fair. Once he gets his cut, he leaves us alone. He’s not like that bastard Arkady, who has spies watching his own spies.”
I took a sip of my drink and reveled in the burn going down.
I wasn’t one for casual conversations, but I had prepared myself to engage with the right people because that was why I was in this position in the first place.
These men needed to believe I was one of them.
Only then could I get certain information out of them.
“You’re familiar with Arkady?” I asked.
“Who isn’t? Bastard loves to put on a show.
I’m surprised Morozov has tolerated him for this long.
Listen,”—he angled himself around to directly face me—“Vasiliev and Arkady didn’t get along because their territories were close.
Now that Vas is no longer around, Arkady might try some shady business.
If you need anything…information, contacts…
” He lifted a shoulder slightly. “You can call me. You have my number.”
I studied him for a moment. It wasn’t an offer I’d expected. At least, not so soon. Was he being sincere? I glanced over to where Aistov and Gusev seemed to be arguing over cards. The latter looked like he was ready to strangle Aistov at any moment.
“I should go break those two up before they turn your fine establishment into a fighting ring.” Popov drained his cup and reached for his wallet, but I waved him off.
“Drinks are on me.”
“I’ll get it next time, then.” He held out his hand for a handshake. “If you want to check out my operation anytime, give me a ring. Something tells me you’ll enjoy the fights.”
“I just might take you up on that.” I shook his hand firmly, then watched him walk away.
Each of our territories had a defining business that kept money flowing. Popov’s was the kind of place people only talked about in low voices. And if our nightclub was seen as exclusive, Popov’s turf was damn near impossible to get into.
I’d never seen it myself, but I’d heard enough.
His underground fight club wasn’t just brutal. It was the kind of place where violence was a luxury commodity. Fights didn’t end with a tap-out or a referee stepping in. They went until one man couldn’t get back up temporarily, sometimes longer if the money on the table demanded it.
Looking at the immaculately dressed picture of a man walking over to his friends as cool as a cucumber, it was hard to imagine him associated with that level of violence.
At two thirty in the morning, I sat in my truck with the engine idling low and steady, staring at the house across the street. The curtains were drawn tight, every window blacked out, the place as lifeless as it had been every night since Leo disappeared.
I came back anyway.
Every fucking night.
On the third night, a thought had hit me hard enough to make my chest tighten. What if the house wasn’t empty at all? What if the reason he wasn’t answering his door, wasn’t showing up to work, wasn’t leaving any kind of trace…was because he was lying somewhere inside, lifeless?
I’d broken in and searched the house from top to bottom, trying to find clues as to his whereabouts.
Most people would have left them. Not Leo.
The only hint I’d gotten that he’d deliberately disappeared was his phone and laptop, which he’d left behind.
And the unmade bed, devoid of the sheets on which we’d slept the last time we’d been together.
For a brief moment, I’d hated how fucking smart he was. He made me feel like an amateur when I was the one with a history of tracking down people who wanted to kill Maxim and eliminating them.
I took a long drag from the cigarette between my lips and let the smoke out through my nostrils. A year ago, I’d quit smoking, but this thing with Leo had me going through almost a pack a day. It was much easier to handle his disappearance when I shifted my addiction of Leo with that of smoking.
Before I drove to the house after the club shut down for the night, I already knew he wasn’t back. The facial recognition alert I’d set up for the surveillance camera hadn’t triggered. No movement, no lights, no sign of life inside those walls.
And still, I went.
Because knowing didn’t stop me from needing to see it for myself. From parking across the street and staring at that dark, silent house like there was still something left there for me.
Where the fuck are you, Leo?