CHAPTER 40
After four months of working and saving up—just waiting—I can’t take it anymore. I’m convinced I have enough money to set my plan into motion, so I withdraw every last penny, pack the cash in a bag along with some extra clothes and toiletries, and head to Copenhagen.
I check into a three-star hotel in the center of the Western part of the city for a few days. It costs more than I’d like to spend, but I can’t risk staying at a cheap hostel with a bag full of cash. Plus, I need to be in the heart of the city since my plan requires me to be out late at night, and I need to be able to get back quickly.
Since I returned to Denmark, I’ve had fearless moments where nothing mattered, but since that evening on the beach, the recklessness has been gone. Now I have a goal, and I’ll do whatever it takes to achieve it, no matter the cost. The only risks I’m willing to take are the ones that will help me get there. Tonight will be such a case.
As I leave the hotel on the first night, I’m barely even nervous. All I can think is that I’m one step closer to seeing Janos. I can’t even consider the possibility of him being dead anymore. I need the faith to keep going. I need to believe I’ll once more get to stare into those hard eyes that would soften for me in increments. That I’ll get to be close to him again, feel his powerful presence radiating off him and shielding me from the world. I need to feel his big hands that could easily break me, but offered me comfort and solace instead. I’ll give anything just to have that one more time.
For three nights, I immerse myself in the shadowy side of the city, talking to people at seedy bars as I search for someone who can help me. I’ve never been good with people, small talk, or striking up conversations with strangers. But it turns out that desperation has granted me some much-needed courage. And it works. I end up with two names: a man and the name of his favorite bar.
On the fourth night, I sling my bag with half the cash over my shoulder—I’m not risking it all in case he tries to trick me—and make my way to Mick’s bar in search of a man named Ricco.
My heart pounds as I step into the dimly lit bar on a Monday night. There are not many people here, and I’m about to think I’ll have to extend my stay, so I can be here during the weekend, when I scan the room and find a man who fits the description of Ricco to a tee. Long blonde beard, a bald head, tattooed hands, and a biker logo on his leather vest.
He’s as broad and tall as Janos, but whereas Janos carries his strength with the elegance and ease of a mighty warrior, this man simply looks raw and brutal. Where Janos’s thick muscles ripple gently under his skin, this man’s muscles protrude in bulges and unnatural bumps like he’s on steroids.
This man has to work for it to look big and intimidating. Janos doesn’t—the danger is rooted so deeply within him that his mere gaze reflects it. And that’s why this man looks as good as harmless in my eyes.
If I couldn’t make that comparison, I probably wouldn’t go over to him. But I’ve been face to face with danger much more severe, and my desperation blots out any hesitancy.
My feet move of their own reckless volition, carrying me straight toward the danger. I don’t even falter when he notices me and meets my eyes. Because his eyes aren’t dead like Gabor’s or closed off like Janos’s. In these eyes, there’s life and humor, and it makes me hopeful. Maybe I can actually count on him if he decides to help me.
“Are you Ricco?” I ask when I sidle up to him at the bar.
“That’s me. And what can I do for you, gorgeous?” He runs his fingers over his beard as he scans me up and down with his clear, blue eyes.
“I hear you’re good at getting things across borders.”
“You hear so many things around here,” he replies casually.
Having no time to drag out and play polite, I cut straight to the chase. “I need to get something into Hungary.”
“And what kind of goods does a girl like you need to bring to Eastern Europe? Sex toys and teddy bears?” He casts an amused look at his friend, who gives a laugh and a shake of his head.
I don’t let them get to me. “Me,” I reply.
Ricco bursts out in a deep, rumbling laughter. “You?” he says, like I just told him the best joke of the year. “Can’t you just take a plane like everyone else? Or do you have Interpol on your tail or something?”
“I need to get into the country without anyone finding out.”
“Rent a car, sweetheart. No one cares whether you drive, fly, or run across the border.”
“I’m not taking any chances with border control.”
Ricco turns to his friend. “Do you think she’s a cop?”
“Cops aren’t that stupid. They’d come up with something better. It’s probably just Spike messing with you again.”
Ricco turns back to me, now looking me over with a cheerful smile and an approving nod. “Now, that’s a pleasant surprise, him sending such a tasty little thing my way.”
“I don’t know or care who Spike is. I’m here for myself. Nobody sent me. I’ve heard that you’re the one who can make things happen, and I need you to get me into Hungary without anyone finding out.”
Ricco’s brow furrows with a mix of surprise and skepticism as it dawns on him that I’m serious. “You do realize that you won’t get that kind of service at normal shipping rates, right?”
“I have money,” I say. “And I need you to find someone for me too.”
“Well, aren’t you a demanding little one?” He chuckles. “That sort of thing easily runs into six figures. Forget about it and have a drink with us instead.” He pulls out the bar stool next to him, smiling widely at me. “My treat.”
I remain rooted to the spot. “I have seventy grand.” My hands are shaking as I reach down and unzip my shoulder bag, showing him that it’s packed with Danish bills. “This is only half.”
Ricco’s laughter breaks off, and his eyes flicker up and down between the money and me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but it’s not enough,” he says, sounding genuinely apologetic.
I reach up for the zipper on my parka and slowly drag it all the way down, revealing my slender hourglass figure and the deep neckline of my dress that showcases my firm, round breasts. My pulse pounds so loudly I can hear it in my ears, and my blood swooshes with a speed that threatens to shoot tremors through my body, but I somehow manage to get the words out with clarity and confidence. “I’m willing to sweeten the deal.”
One corner of his mouth pulls up in a crooked smile as his eyes travel down my body. “You might be able to strike a deal with that,” he says, sliding his hand under my jacket and onto my hip as if testing the merchandise. I don’t even flinch at his touch. I’m scared, but determination gets the upper hand. And maybe more so, I find no crackling violence hidden in his eyes, and his touch is warm and slow. Almost pleasant.
“Come back to my place, spend the night with me and leave your bag there, and we’ll consider it a down payment,” Ricco says. “Then I’ll hear what you have to say about this person you need to find and see if it’s a job I want to take on. If it’s up my alley, you’ll pay me the rest in advance; if not, then...” He shrugs and lets his eyes roam over my body again. “Then I got something for the trouble.”
“Half the money in advance and the rest when you complete the job.” Even thirty-five grand is a huge sum to lose if he screws me over, but I don’t have much choice.
“A woman who knows how to bargain...” He rubs his bearded chin as he looks me up and down, and my breath catches in my throat as I wait to find out if that’s a good or bad thing. Then his eyes light up in an impressed smile, and he offers me his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
I’m about to grab his hand when he pulls it back. “This will only get you in. You won’t be able to leave the country on the same ticket.”
“I won’t need to leave,” I simply say, and he shrugs as if to say it’s my call.
He takes my hand in a firm shake, and a wave of sadness washes over me as I glance down and see his huge hand wrapped around my slender one. It reminds me of another hand, and tears press behind my eyes, threatening to drag me under. But I steel myself with the reminder that I’m now one step closer to feeling that hand.
***
My night with Ricco is unremarkable. Disappointing, really.
I’m not sure what I was hoping for. That it would remind me of Janos since there are so many other similarities between the two men?
It doesn’t at all.
Ricco is almost sweet and considerate compared to what I had pictured. He doesn’t even comment on the horrific scars on my torso, but simply takes one look before going down on me. He licks my pussy for a while, getting me wet before finally shoving his cock in me. Then he massages my breasts with a touch that’s too gentle for his huge hands as he moves in and out of me at a languid pace.
None of it sparks anything in me. I just lie there, staring at his hands, hoping they’ll clench—inflict pain and make me feel something beyond this hollow emptiness lodged inside me.
Not even when I wake in the middle of the night from him pressing into me or when he wants me to suck his cock before I leave do I feel anything. And when I put my clothes on and leave in the morning, it’s the same. I don’t feel dirty or filthy from having sold myself. Not even relieved that it’s over.
Just nothing.
But as I go back home and time drags on, I start to feel again.
Dread. Ice-cold dread.
After months of being focused, working hard toward a goal, it’s hard to accept that everything is out of my hands. I’ve given Ricco all the information I could think of to help him find Janos, and he accepted the job and the rest of the money. Now all I can do is wait and hope he didn’t scam me and hope that he’ll find Janos if he didn’t.
The waiting drives me crazy, and all the emotions that had drowned in my determination now bubble back to the surface. One moment, I feel strong and driven, the next I feel dirty and useless. I can’t find peace or balance in anything. My nightmares are worse than ever, and I feel like I’m constantly trembling.
Almost a week goes by like this. Then one evening, my phone rings, an unknown number lighting up on the screen. I grab the phone so quickly I almost drop it and swipe the green icon. “Hello.”
“I found your Janos. He’s—”
“Where? Is he alive?” I interrupt with a quivering voice.
“He’s alive,” Ricco confirms. “My contact tells me he’s still working for Gabor, and I have an address. My friend Spike will get you past the border unseen and take you to the city.”
Ricco proceeds to explain various details, but I’m not paying attention anymore. The only thing I can focus on is that I’m going to see Janos again. He’s alive, and soon I’ll be standing in front of him, staring up into his willful eyes, feeling the potent mix of danger and the safety in his mighty presence.
I start getting ready immediately even though there’s not much to prepare. The last thing I do is to leave a note for my sister: I’m sorry. Please don’t try to find me.