Vadim BRO-LIGARCHY GROUP CHAT
Vadim
brO-LIGARCHY GROUP CHAT
VIP: Is it supremely messed up that the hottest sexual experience I've ever had in my life happened online?
TT: Depends. How much did you pay and how degrading was it to either or both parties involved?
VIP: Why do I bother?
DP: I met Robbie online, so I'm 1000% pro-online. Just make sure that you use a trusty app and not one that accidentally sets you both up with the wrong person.
EBB:
EBB: Let the man speak.
VIP: Thank you!
VIP: It's Preston. He's staying with his parents. And we've been talking every night for the past six or so weeks.
TT: You? Talking? Every night? Are you okay? Can we get you anything?
DP:
I deserve that. I'm a little surprised myself. But then again, I shouldn't be. This is Preston, after all, and for some reason, with him, because of him, I'm starting to question some things about myself.
Like that maybe I’m not completely emotionless. No, wait. That one's too big. Not ready to deal with that right now.
But the communication thing? That I can handle.
Not saying it comes easily to me, or that it's my favorite thing in the world, but with Preston, it sure is a hell of a lot easier.
EBB: Let's get to the point. What are you REALLY asking us about, VIP?
Good question.
VIP: I'm not entirely sure. I'm feeling a little…off-balance.
TT: I've got some great pills for that.
DP likes the comment while EBB types…
EBB: Maybe the reason your sexual experience was hot is the same reason why you two are in constant contact?
DP: You'll need to spell it out for me, man.
EBB:
EBB: Is there a chance you more than like him, Vadim? That maybe it's the other L-word?
Whoa, he just first-named me for the first time ever in bro-ligarchy history. Then again, if there's anything worth getting first-named about, it's this.
My fingers tap out the answer without needing to think about it.
VIP: Yes.
EBB: That's great!
TT: Happy for you, man.
TT: I also have a great rec for pills if you need 'help' once you make the switch to sex IRL.
I ignore his comment, a hollowness caving out my chest.
VIP: But I'm conflicted.
EBB: What about?
VIP: Preston's in danger because of me.
DP: STILL? You haven't handled that situation yet?
TT: That's not like you at all.
Tell me about it. Farkas is proving to be one stealthy, slippery son of a bitch. Even though it may seem like I'm totally preoccupied with Preston—okay, that may be slightly true—but when I'm at work, the only thing I'm focused on is locating Farkas.
Lack of progress on that front has given me the world's biggest case of blue balls.
VIP: No. I haven’t.
EBB: Ohhh, that explains your confusion. I just assumed you'd taken care of business.
VIP: Please stop reminding me.
EBB: We all know you, VIP, and we know you're excellent at what you do. I bet you're spending every single minute you're not thinking about Preston working toward resolving the safety issue. Am I right, or am I right?
VIP: Correct.
EBB: Thought so.
VIP: So what should I do? About Preston, I mean.
EBB: How long is he away for?
VIP: Don't know. He's dealing with a family situation.
EBB: In that case, if what you're doing now is working, I see no reason to change it.
Keep talking and doing whatever else it is you and Preston are doing online, and stay focused on the task at hand, and keep him safe.
As long as your feelings aren't impeding your focus, why deprive yourself of the first guy you're falling for? …
When sexual frustration collides with revenge frustration, the results are not good. My brain only seems to be capable of bouncing between two thoughts—wanting Preston and wanting to kill Farkas.
Nothing else.
I'm not sleeping well, not working out, not wasting time on anything that doesn't help me locate that lowlife so I can deal with him once and for all.
I'm monitoring his two local associates and the Chicago contact around the clock, tracking burner phone signals through my connections in law enforcement, pulling surveillance footage from every location Farkas was confirmed to have visited.
And it's not yielding any results.
I'm beyond frustrated, I am pi-iiised.
Storming into the control room, I march over to W?adek.
"Your latest lead was a bust," I snap.
He turns away from the monitors slowly, holding a cup and saucer. It's all I can do not to knock it out of his goddamn hands.
"I gave you good intel. Not my fault your men are useless."
"Pieprzony sukinsyn," I grumble, digging my fingers into my scalp.
He sneers at me. He doesn't like being called a son of a bitch, but it's not like he can say anything or do anything about it. I'm his boss whether he likes it or not.
"Have you got anything else?"
"Nothing."
He answers so calmly that if I didn't want to deal with the inevitable headache it would bring, I'd have broken his jaw already.
"That's not good enough."
He places the cup and saucer on a nearby desk and straightens, meeting my eyes. With an insincere smile, he apologizes just as insincerely, "Przepraszam, boss," then fucks off.
I pace the length of the control room, my simmering rage needing an outlet. I drive my fist into the wall and then leave before I do something worse.
"Are you okay? You seem tense."
"What? Sorry. No. I'm fine."
I check to see if Preston believes me, and judging by his expression—or what I can make out of it in the low light—he doesn't seem to be buying it.
"Is it a work thing or a family thing?"
"It's a Farkas thing." Immediately, anger bleeds into my voice. "It's so fucking frustrating."
"Still no progress, then?"
"No. And it's not through lack of trying, believe me."
"I would never think that. I know you're doing everything you can. I just don't like seeing you like this. It's not worth it."
That's where he's got it all wrong. Getting my hands on Farkas will be worth it. It's the only redemption I have left where Preston is concerned.
"How's your Dad doing?" I ask, remembering him telling me last night about a doctor's appointment his dad had today.
Preston sags. "Not good. The doctor recommended hospice care."
"Oh, no. I'm so sorry."
Preston swallows and starts shaking his head. "The end is coming."
"How's he doing? And your mom?"
"They're both pretty devastated, which is to be expected."
"And you?"
"I'm starting to feel like I'm going crazy. One minute, I think I'm doing okay, coping, taking it all in and dealing with it as best I can, and then the next, I'm on the floor, balling my eyes out because I don't want my dad to die."
He starts crying, and it kills me seeing him like this. Nothing else comes close to this awful kind of helplessness.
Not even Farkas.
"I have an idea."
He sniffs. "Yeah?"
"How about I come down for a visit? I can stay at a hotel nearby. I don't want to impose on your family. This is a difficult time. But I can just be…closer, you know?"
He blinks a few times. "You'd do that?"
"Of course."
"Um, yeah. That would be great, actually."