8. Laszlo
Evelyn looked heartbroken at the prospect of going to Idaho, but once she was settled into the new house I bought her, all this would be a tainted memory.
She’d have a fresh start.
I’d been able to track down some scarce details on the cult she seems to have fled.
It was led by a man named Caleb and they called themselves the Children of Aer.
They lived, ironically, in Satan’s Kingdom, up in a mountain near Dunwich.
The compound was well armed, and the feds had enough information to know they were a risk.
There were concerns they had explosives and a suicide backup plan if they were raided.
And she ran away from that, right into my arms.
My poor angel.
I couldn’t protect Lilien, but I could save Evelyn from the cult, from Jimmy, from this town.
From me.
I’d gotten her a good fake ID in the name of Belle Smith, so that her cult couldn’t trace her after I drove her to Idaho.
I couldn’t wait for this party to be over so I could slip away with her, drive through the night.
I had a playlist made and everything, and I hoped she’d enjoy some old crooners from the 50s.
At the other side of the table, Mr. Bodrov rose.
Sweat glistened on his reddened flesh, his shirt stained and partially untucked.
He smelled as sour as he looked, and he stumbled towards us with a twisted scowl, stealing me from my fantasies.
He was blocky, and despite him being a foot shorter than me, he had the confidence of a man overdue for a humbling.
“Laszlo. We must talk. Rurik, come with us.”
Rurik looked as surprised as I was that we were being called out together. He was a byki, more muscles than brains, and while I didn’t have a problem with him, we didn’t have much in common. The fact that he knew Nikolas’ dick was wet was enough to make me hate him.
I tucked some of Evelyn’s blonde hair behind her ear, and murmured, “Be a good girl and wait for me. Then I’ll help you into your new life.”
“Okay. Don’t be long,” she said. I stroked her cheek, her peachy skin heated beneath my thumb. Her angelic face tilted towards me, and it took everything I had not to tell Bodrov to fuck off.
As vile as he was, I needed him on my side.
For now.
I couldn’t make him nervous right before I disappeared for a week, driving across hundreds of miles with Evelyn at my side. Listening to her tell me all about the ring she wanted to make for me…
My heart threatened to seize, and I had to drain the last of my brandy.
She was distracting me, and I removed myself from the booth.
My long legs easily kept pace with Bodrov.
As usual, he couldn’t handle his liquor or his women, and he was immune to the embarrassment that both things should have caused him.
A mist settled in between the old brick buildings, keeping the alleyway cool.
The Miskatonic River gave the city of Arkham a constant humidity, the scent of rot travelling downstream into the South Essex waters.
Rurik kept a hefty distance from the two of us, watching for trouble.
The haze concealed us from spying eyes and the fog muffled any conversation. Still, my paranoia had me checking every window for a camera or a scope. I wasn’t prepared for the sudden hand on my chest, my angular shoulder striking the wall.
My jaw tightened. I fucking hated to be touched, and I had to swallow down every impulse to punch him in the face. My heavy clothes gave me some protection, at least.
“You are a big earner. Important to my brigade.” His voice was low, slurred. He hadn’t brought me out here for praise. My success was his success, and any praise he gave me was self-congratulatory. I waited for the inevitable—
“But. There are concerns among the men. You don’t party like we do. You don’t play with the girls…” His breath smelled sour, of decaying vomit.
My expression registered nothing. Gave him nothing. My masculinity wasn’t a fragile thing that could be broken by an oaf without any self-control.
“The others, they make remarks about you being a homo,” he said, as if he were a friend looking out for me. “The girl you choose, she barely touches you, and then you choose her again and again?”
Coward. For all his posturing, he hid behind his blatnoi. He couldn’t call me a slur to my face and own it, but if he wanted me to see him as the hapless messenger, then I was becoming important to him. I’d keep it up, and he’d vouch for me. Send me up the chain.
I was operating a long con. One I had nearly infinite patience for. Bodrov’s erratic crew and their immature dick measuring contests? Not so much. I needed more autonomy and freedom to operate, and less time spent posturing for small men with big egos.
“I am not bothered by the gossipy girls,” I retorted, trying to talk in a language he’d understand.
Temporary amusement, chased away by a grim expression.
“The world. It is all messed up now. No morality. Traditional values, dead. But we keep them alive. We believe in the proper way of doing things. Men and women. You can’t trust a man who wants to stick it up your ass.”
Every word was like a wretched vapour exiting his mouth. My expression didn’t change. Reacting to the bigotry would give away too much of my true self. I waited for him to continue.
“You are a fancy man. You like good suits, that’s okay. Many of us do.” He gestured down his body. The stains on his chest were visible through the fog, frayed stitching on the collar. His buttoned-down shirt was half untucked after face fucking a woman.
He dressed like some politicians: expensive suits that somehow looked cheap.
I hid my disdain that he thought our style was comparable. If he thought I was gay, it wouldn’t do to be catty. His heavy palm was still on my shoulder, but I didn’t flinch. I thought I’d carried myself as a professional, but I was surrounded by hormonal thugs in a perpetual dick swinging contest.
“You have to show the guys you’re a man… You get me?”
My anger beat against the sides of the bottle containing it. If he kept talking, it was going to spill over. I knew they’d be repellant when I threw my life away for something greater than myself. Dealing with this was a part of it.
“I understand.”
The words tasted like bile.
There couldn’t be any suspicion on me. They had to accept me as one of them, and I needed to prove myself.
My morals, my values, who I was? None of it mattered.
Without Lilien, I was a shell, and without Bodrov, I could never find out the truth about what happened to her.
“I hope you do. The Avtoritet, he wants to know who is making our brigade rich, but I can’t bring you to them until I know you are solid. Da? The Pakhan will want lots of vouching, and nobody will want to vouch for you if they think you are a fairy.”
“I didn’t realize fucking in front of the guys was necessary to prove I’m not gay, but I hear you. Boss.”
Bodrov’s pinched eyes narrowed, his meaty hand tightening on my shoulder. The mist had cooled his drunken skin, but it flushed with irritation. I’d gone too far. My tone was too icy. I’d spoken too plainly. In the future, I’d have to be more cautious.
Tension crackled in the thick air, dissipating when Bodrov let out a stringy laugh.
“You’re too smart for your own good sometimes, da. Just watch out.”
“There’s no need to worry about me. I have a one-track mind, and right now, it’s on numbers. A brotherhood is bigger than numbers, though.”
He released my shoulder. I’d said the right thing.
The psych meds I was on would make doing the right thing harder, since they suppressed my sex drive.
My twenties were spent disassociating through any farce of a relationship I found myself in, and I couldn’t remember the last time I thought about sex.
Until she entered the picture, but I knew that was a bad idea to entertain.
“Rurik will be watching out for you. Full time,” he said, and I bit my tongue. It wasn’t the time to disagree. “You are too valuable to risk losing to some punk from another family, you got me? Last moneyman we had bit the dust in some seedy place. Probably a heart attack, but eh… who can say?”
Having that byki surveil me would complicate matters, but I could deal with it. Most of my work happened at my home office, on the dark web, and there was no chance in hell I’d let him into my home.
He could stand outside doing dick shit until I got my stars and my promotion.
It’d make it harder to drive Evelyn to Idaho, though. Another problem to solve, but it’d be easier once Bodrov knew I was on his side. He turned and exchanged some words with Rurik, who looked as pleased with this new arrangement as I was.
The fog clung to me as I entered the club, and I caught Evelyn’s eye. She was staring at me, right where I had left her.
Her smile was genuine, filled with hope.
I wouldn’t be the man to steal that away from her. The cult had a messed-up reputation for child brides, so I knew she wasn’t innocent, but she’d run away from all that. I wanted to protect her, and I wouldn’t use her to prove myself. My gaze landed on Fiona.
She’d have to do.