Chapter Five - Akim
With a furry tongue, I lift my head. Slamming it back down on the couch pillow, I groan. How much did I fucking drink last night? I feel I’ve been in a head-on collision.
Her name . I didn’t get the lavender beauty’s name. Does she even know mine? What was her fucking name? Groaning again, I try to sit up, holding the lead weight of my head and wishing the penthouse would stop spinning in multiple circles.
But her scent . I can still smell the remnants of her heavenly scent on the couch and I’m unashamed to admit sniffing the back of it helps with the roaring headache. “Fucking hell, it must have been some night,” I croak, forcing myself to get up and struggle to the kitchen. Pouring myself a glass of water, I miss the glass, water spilling on the floor. Shit. Something’s fucking wrong, I reason, my gut sending me bad signals, but I can’t figure out where the bad signals are originating from.
Gulping down the water, I blink hard, seeing double as I look for the woman. Dragging my feet, I move through the rooms, clinging on to the doorframes and peeking inside the spare suite. I check my bedroom, wondering if I had the misfortune of not realizing I slept with her. Nope. My bed’s like I left it. Wincing, I steady myself against the next room’s doorframe, but I can’t keep going.
“Fuck. Maybe, I’m too old for this shit. Gotta go easy on the vodkas.” Scolding myself, I reenter the kitchen.
Once my eyesight starts straightening out, I find an Advil, taking a bunch, but even after twenty minutes, I can’t focus properly. A thought creeps into my mind about the mystery woman. Did she take anything with her? Patting down the couch, I find everything where I left it last night with no traces of her, other than the lovely scent on my couch. My phone’s still in my suit pocket. I pull it out, turning it over. Fine, but the battery’s low. Not unusual, I’m on it most of the time, putting out fires. All my hundred-dollar bills are still in my wallet. Smiling, I think about the woman, seeing if I can get a visual in my mind of her again. She was too good not to remember, and it’s been a long time since I’ve met a virgin. Most of the women I’ve slept with have been seasoned and know what they’re getting into with the likes of me.
A fact I’ve come to hate. But not her. She was shy with an innocent submissive fragility that made me want her even more.
Hair. I remember her long waterfalls of her honey-colored hair. The lavender frills of her dress, and her sexy, shimmery skin. She’s gone. I still can’t recall her name. Didn’t she tell me? Maybe she didn’t. Fuck. I can’t get her out of my mind.
A loud ring pulls me out of my temporary bliss as I sit on the couch recalling the hazy night. “Morning.”
“Hey, Boris. Good?”
“Yeah. Good fun, last night. I wanted to give you an update on the Michael Jane problem.”
“What is it?” I ask, irritated that I can’t remember the girl’s name, not worried about him.
“Michael Jane has been refused bail. Things are shaping up nice.”
“Good. But you didn’t have to call me for that,” I snap. “It’s early.” A thick silence hangs in the air between us for a few minutes. “What?”
“Boss… it’s three in the afternoon, and we’ve got a meeting downtown in fifty minutes for the Gin Bar contract. Did you have that good a time last night?” Boris laughs, propelling me into further confusion.
“Fuck! How the hell did I sleep all the way through the day? It’s three in the afternoon.”
“Sure as the sky is blue. What’s up with you?” he accuses, the dizziness in my head screwing with me.
“Nothing’s up. I must have been dog-tired. Forget it. I’ll be there. I did have a good time last night, but not for the reasons you think,” I tell Boris, leaving out the murky details.
“I would have to if it’s who I’m thinking about. See you at the meeting. Anything I need to be aware of?”
“No. See you there.” Hanging up the phone, I shake my head. It’s dull, but I remember the velvet of the young woman’s skin under my deft touch and her bubbly laugh.
I wanted her. And was damn close to having her, but she vanished into thin air. Damn. I wish she had left her number. Anything.
Hopeful I missed it, I peer under the couch seats like a crazed man, searching for any clues about the night I spent with the young woman being real, but I find nothing. Reeling from the encounter, a distorted vision of her mouth blending with mine crops up. Oh yes. It’s her mouth that aroused me the most. The way she kissed, reluctant at first, but open afterwards.
I’m Akim Utkin. I have the means and the know-how to find out who and where she is. A light bulb flashes on as I head to the bathroom for a long shower. I feel more human when I get out. She came to the bar, and I can have Boris track her down.
After a quick shave, I lumber through the motions, getting dressed in my tailored suit and ready to head downtown for our meeting, but when I try to think about what I need for it, a memory lapse kicks in.
What’s the meeting about? Fuck. How did this happen? As I drive, I call Boris on Bluetooth.
“Hey. I don’t know what’s going on, but who are we meeting again downtown?”
“We’re meeting with Mikhail. Everything okay?”
“Fine, fine. Just probably worn out and need a break,” I justify, thinking back to the club when I was with all the women in the room feeling nothing. As much as I want to pretend, I’m not myself today, but the show has to go on. A voice in my head stamps out all doubts.
“I’m going to beat the weakness out of you, so help me God. Your mother can’t save you now. She’s gone.” My mind darkens as I speed up, shutting down the pure evil of a man I never wanted to cross as a young boy. A man whom I loathed, feared, and loved to hate all balled into one. Pure love wasn’t a word in his vocabulary. And when I did show it to him, he crucified me.
Boris intercepts the bad memory, and for that, I’m grateful. “Probably right. This new venture should get you right back on track.”
“Near the Chicago Theatre. Correct?” I say to him, fragments of my foggy memory coming back.
“Yeah. It’s a perfect spot for a gin bar there. I think we’ll do well.”
“We will.” I’ve got the knack for being a legitimate businessman. Especially when it comes to nightlife and finding premier locations for Chicago’s people to have a nice night out. Ironically, if I wasn’t knee deep in the Bratva, it’s likely what I would have ended up becoming. But my father’s DNA has corrupted all I could have been.
Weapons trafficking is my main game, and I happen to be good at being an illegitimate businessman simultaneously.
This time it’s straight business. Mikahil is a friend from the old country of Moscow, and he’s been here as long as I have. Finding a parking spot, I head into the meeting, but my mind is stuck on the mystery virgin from last night. I’m not a man for obsession—possession yes. But obsession—no. What I want I have, but I don’t have her. Not even her first name. Did I forget?
Boris meets me at the bar as we walk into Mikhail and his team stripping down the place and taking down his signage.
“Afternoon. Sad day,” I say, but secretly I’m happy his venture failed because if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s to open and run a successful bar or nightclub.
“Yeah. Four years in this spot, but I can’t do it anymore. I need the capital to start my next thing,” Mikhail claims as I walk through the small space.
“I’m more than happy to take it off your hands.” I smirk. I look around the interior.
“Hmm. We can open this up. It closes the space off too much, and that wall should be knocked down,” I surmise, already putting my stamp on the place. What shocks me is I see the woman in it. She’s at the bar talking to me and laughing. Shaken, I blink her away, but something tells me, I need her.
“See, this is why I’m glad to hand this place over. You’re going to know what to do with it,” Mikhail praises as he rounds the bar, pulling down three shot glasses and tequila. “Do we have a deal, Akim?”
“We have a deal. I’ve already signed the contract, and I trust you’ll be happy with the amount,” I reply as Boris stands beside me.
“I’ve seen it and have a signed copy with me. I’m more than happy about it. More than expected. You must really want the place. Shall we celebrate, old friend? You’ve come a long way from Kinerma.” He winks, the onslaught of inescapable memories returning to haunt me.
“You’ve got to go to him, otherwise you’ll never become what you’re supposed to be. It’s for your own good. I didn’t want to. I’m sorry, my boy, so sorry.”
“ Mat no! Mat, why? I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with you. Nooo!”
I close the open shutters to the past quickly, opting for a false smile of congratulatory thanks instead.
“Yes. That’s cause to celebrate alone. Pour up.” I watch as Mikhail pours the shots, and I drop the contracts onto the bar top before knocking back the shot and urging myself to forget. I only thought about the old days when I was disturbed about something or other.
I was taught to forget about my mother, but still, she lingers in the chambers of my heart, way down where no one can touch.
Mikhail pours more of the amber liquid, and we clink our glasses together. “Here’s to closing old doors and opening new ones,” I announce.
“Here! Here!” Mikhails shouts in agreement as we sling back the shots. I slam mine down.
“Another.” I need to get her out of my system. She’s triggering me. Parts of me that I want to stay locked down, and I haven’t even slept with her. Yet.
Knocking back the next one, I conduct a walk through with Boris and Mikhail, thinking things through, and by the time we’re done and standing on the street, nightfall has befallen Chicago.
“What do you think?” Boris checks in as I watch the slew of people trudging into the Chicago Theatre across the road, the show lights dazzling.
“Yes. I’ve got a hunch we’re going to get good crowds.” I pause for a second, wondering if I should do what I’m about to. If she ends up being like all the others, it’s no huge loss. It’s what I expect anyhow in some way. “I need you to get something for me, Boris,” I say plainly, my hands in my pockets as we stand side by side watching the theatergoers pile inside.
“Yes. What’s that?”
“Get the number, name, and ID of the woman in the lavender dress at the bar I left with. I don’t have her or her number. Stupid of me, but you saw her…. Is it enough?”
Boris’s mouth stretches into a knowing grin. “Yes. It’s enough. The legs.”
“Watch your mouth. Just get me the details,” I warn, slanting my eyes in his direction.
“She’s all yours, Boss. Call you tonight if I have an update.”
“Good.”
We part ways, and I get busy with all the numerous other tasks I need to do, still confused as to the lapses in time I’ve experienced today. And as I stand next to my floor-to-ceiling window, staring at Chicago’s tallest skyscrapers, a call I’ve been waiting for comes from Boris.
“And?”
Now the elusive young woman in lavender will be mine. “I’ve got some interesting news for you.”
“That would be?”
“It seems the young woman entered the club with a fake ID under the name Ana Benito. There is no Ana Benito in existence. At least it’s not who you took home.”
My pulse strums lightly in my neck, a flare of heat rushing up the back of my neck in excitement. Oh yes. I knew there was something I liked about her. Now she’s playing hard to get. Right up my alley.
“I knew there was something special about her, and she’s proven me right. Find her for me. I need her.”