65
Push me
W hen I received the call from Yuri, I was parking at the port to have a more than enlightening conversation with Arasagasti.
Answering his provocation increased the thirst for revenge I felt for him. There was nothing left of that friendship that was forged in university, especially because it was an illusion, without a shred of truth in it.
As soon as I hung up, I dialed Segarra's number.
"Shit, Romeo, with all these calls and meetings, my wife is going to think I prefer your dick over her pussy."
"If you help me with this matter, I'll pay for a week-long trip wherever you say so you can make it clear to her."
"Call me tomorrow, we were about to go out to dinner with some friends."
"I needed it done yesterday."
"If it's that urgent, double it and I might consider it, I owe some days that..."
"Double," I settled, "if you get me the information in the next five minutes."
"Full board?"
"All expenses paid."
"You should have said that earlier, I'll get it in three. What kind of information do you need?"
"Find the exact location of the number I'm going to give you, and do it fast."
"I'm all ears."
A minute later, I was climbing the stairs to Arasagasti's office with his secretary on my heels, shouting for me to stop.
"Mr. Capuleto, please, I told you he's in a very important meeting."
"So is mine," I confirmed, my hand already on the door handle.
"Mr. Capuleto!" she exclaimed.
I opened the door without hesitation. Karlos stood there, pants around his ankles, with a brunette whispering to his dick.
The secretary screamed.
"Berta!" the director cried out in distress, trying to push the brunette away from his treat. "I told you not to let anyone disturb me."
"Don't blame her. She did warn me that your dick was in a meeting."
"I did not say that!" the secretary exclaimed, embarrassed.
The brunette pulled that minuscule thing out of her mouth and looked at me lustfully. I would have looked at myself the same way, considering the hardware the Basque had.
Arasagasti nudged her to hurry and leave. She stood up, pulling down her red dress, wiping the smeared lipstick with the back of her hand before grabbing a sequined gold purse.
She gave me a seductive smile as she walked by and stopped. She smelled like a floral perfume of dubious origin.
"If you feel like trying, I offer a two-for-one deal. The first blowjob is on the house; you only pay for the second. Ask Charly for my number." She blew me a kiss. I didn't respond, too pissed at the Basque to focus on her.
Arasagasti was sweating. His right hand tried to straighten an overly wrinkled shirt.
"Can you explain...?!"
Those three words were all I let him say before grabbing him by the neck and slamming him against the wall.
"Listen, you piece of shit, I'm the one who talks here. I don't give a damn if you pay a whore to blow you; what matters is that you work for Yuri Korolev." At the mention of the name, his red, sweat-drenched face deprived of oxygen turned crimson. "If I were you, I wouldn't deny having an extracurricular relationship with him because I'm here for the truth and to find out where that stinking rat is hiding."
"If I do..."
"If you do, you'll have a chance to stay alive; if not, I'll hang you like a fucking elk on the wall, though I think your wife is the one with the horns."
The port director looked at me with sorrow.
Arasagasti wasn't a tough guy, I could feel his trembling between my fingers.
In the report we requested back in the day, he was described as a model man, Catholic, right-wing, and not easily influenced. However, at the party, we discovered he had a certain weakness when he drank and often accepted invitations from beautiful women like mine.
I lowered him from the wall and asked him to talk. He rubbed his hands, agitated. He had to go to the liquor cabinet to pour himself a drink and calm his nerves.
He asked for a minute to tell his secretary she could go home, that he would stay a little longer.
He leaned against the desk and, before telling me how he ended up being Yuri's whore, made me promise to protect him. Both him and Andrea.
"If the night ends as I hope, you won't need protection. Talk," I demanded curtly.
Arasagasti's crime had been crossing paths with Yuri Korolev while the latter was looking for a scapegoat. Fate had them meet in a club dedicated to free will. After a few rounds paid for by the Russian, Arasagasti loosened his tongue. Given how persuasive my brother-in-law could be, it didn't surprise me that the Basque told him his life story.
It's not wise to talk about yourself without knowing if the person in front of you is the devil himself.
Arasagasti had certain sexual fantasies he had tried to repress. Dark fantasies his faith wouldn't allow him to fulfill. But that night, something changed.
Karlos used to get excited watching porn videos featuring transgender people and liked the idea of paying for sex. Both things excited him greatly, and Yuri made sure to indulge him.
It was a night where he experienced what he longed for. He said he felt a disinhibition he had never experienced before, which led him to give in to his most mundane impulses.
The crisis he had with Andrea, mentioned in the report, originated from that night.
The next day, a mysterious letter appeared in the mailbox. It was addressed to his wife and included a photo where he was naked, hugging a blonde from behind with a schlong that reached her knee. Karlos was holding that member with delight while she clung to his neck. A full-on handjob, in other words.
When he came home from work, Andrea was waiting for him in the kitchen, her eyes red from crying and the photo stuck to the fridge with a magnet.
Arasagasti swore and swore it was a Photoshop montage, that he had no idea who could have wanted to play such a cruel joke on them, and that he would never be unfaithful to her, especially not with that creature that didn’t belong to God’s kingdom.
Despite his laments, Andrea didn’t believe him. She decided to put some distance between them to clear her head and chose to spend three months in Galicia on a spiritual retreat.
Hounded by her family, who couldn’t understand why their daughter had left Karlos so abruptly and who would never have accepted divorce as an option, she returned under her husband’s promise that he would dedicate himself body and soul to making her happy.
The same day Andrea left for Galicia, Karlos received a phone call. Korolev told him that if he didn’t want all the images to be released, he would have to do something for him whenever he asked. As a show of good faith, he sent him some of the photos. Let’s just say the one his wife received was the least shocking.
Arasagasti had no choice but to accept; it was either that or see his life destroyed, as his in-laws were very powerful, and his good job positions had been due to the influence of his wife’s father, who was connected to the Basque government.
The day Yuri picked up the phone to talk to him again was to tell him to move immediately.
“The one who just left your office…?” I asked out of simple curiosity. He nodded wearily.
“I love my wife more than anything in this world, but I can’t help feeling that impulse. Since I tried it that night, I haven’t been able to get the idea of repeating it out of my head. My flesh is weak. I’ve put it off until I couldn’t anymore. In fact, today was the first time I’ve paid for her services since I’ve been here. I know what’s happening to me is disgusting, and if I could avoid it, I would, I swear, but it’s stronger than everything.”
“You don’t have to explain this to me; I’m not Andrea.” The mention of his wife made him wince with guilt. “Yuri is the one who killed Gálvez?”
“Yes. I have no proof to incriminate him, but he suggested several times that he could end me the way he did with him, and I have no doubt it was him.”
“My brother-in-law has a place at the port.” His lip trembled. “I want you to tell me where it is.”
“If I tell you, I’m finished.”
“If you don’t tell me, you’re definitely finished.”
My phone vibrated before Arasagasti could respond. I asked for a minute while he thought carefully about his answer and took the opportunity to look at the screen. There was Segarra’s message, along with the location I had requested. Below it, the following text appeared:
“You’ve got it 500 meters away. I’m looking at destinations.”
I enlarged the image and showed it to Arasagasti without saying a word. There was no need to; the look on his face told me that Segarra was right, and I had found the rat's lair. Yuri was so close I could almost smell him.
"Is this his place?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Very well. It's late, go home."
"What are you going to do?"
"End your blackmailer and reclaim what’s mine. From today onwards, you answer only to me."
"Will you tell Andrea…?" He paused dramatically. "I know Nikita and she get along very well. My wife is thrilled about the art school project. I've never seen her so happy, and I wouldn’t want to ruin that…"
"I told you before, what you do with your private life is your business. However, if you want my opinion, it's better to talk things out. Lies never lead to a good end and have a nasty habit of coming to light when you least expect them. Maybe Andrea can understand you, I don't know. That's something between you two that I don't want to get involved in unless you force me to." I wanted to make it clear that he was now dancing in the palm of my hand, and I decided whether to crush him with my fist.
"I won't."
"Very well. Then go. It's better if you're not here."
"Th-thank you for your understanding and help," he extended his hand, and I shook it.
Arasagasti quickly turned off his computer and gathered his things. I left the office and headed straight to confront the Russian.
The worst thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemy, but from the one who first hugs you and then pushes you away.
I was done being pushed around by Yuri Korolev.