Chapter 3
As I carried her up three flights of stairs, the girl didn’t resist or say anything. In my bedroom, I dropped her on the bed, expecting I’d have to explain things, but when I stepped back, I found her crawling up to the pillows and laying her head on it, closing her eyes.
Hands on my hips, I thought that one day, hopefully sooner rather than later, when I had a daughter, I would never ever let her go to college. Or a grocery store.
I grabbed the fluffy blanket I kept on my reading chair and covered the girl, then hovered a bit above her.
She already slept. I could fuck her all night, dump her outside, and she’d never know what happened.
In the morning, she’d wake up sore down there and wonder what had happened.
Fucking puppies. Always getting into trouble.
I opened the doors that led to the balcony and found the party went on sans Maks, who’d likely left in fury straight to his boss.
At the bar, Ivana entertained the girl’s friends, laughing at whatever the girls were saying.
She saw me and mouthed something I didn’t care to decipher ’cause I was sure it was negative.
I already knew I’d hear from Mikhail tomorrow.
I left the girl in my bedroom, and Puss-I locked the door behind me.
Couples lingered in the hallway as I passed them on the way to the secluded and guarded part of my house.
In this wing, I walked on quiet feet, even though I knew my dad slept deep these days.
Morphine did that to people. Puss-I unlocked the door, and Nurse Tiffany—maybe that was her name—rose from the chair, blinking. She’d been sleeping too.
“I’ll stay the night,” I said.
She gathered up her things and dashed out the door.
As Dad snored, I sat in the nurse’s chair, already set in the reclining position.
I folded my arms behind my head and stared at the dim light on the ceiling, willing my thoughts in the Italian direction.
Trouble was, the girl occupied my mind for the better part of the evening, and eventually, I gave up thinking of other things and fell asleep in the chair.
“Nikola.” My dad’s voice woke me.
“Yeah,” I groaned and sat up.
“It’s nice of you to visit.”
I rolled my eyes, stood, stretched. “I visit every day, Dad.”
“No, you don’t. Your sister visits every day, sometimes all day. Not you. My boy. Too busy for his family. Too busy to live. How’s the business?”
I didn’t have a sister, but as was the case in most Serbian households, Dad referred to Ivana, a female first cousin, as my sister. “You’re feeling chatty this early.”
“Early? It is ten past noon.”
“Shit.” I worked out the kinks in my neck and rubbed the place on my back where the butt of my gun had dug in overnight. I flexed my fingers. Sore. Fuck. I grabbed my phone and climbed onto Dad’s bed at the same time. I kissed my dad on the cheek. “What do you wanna eat?”
Dark brown eyes, same color as mine, narrowed. “What is wrong with you, and where is my son?”
I smiled. “Don’t be an asshole. Pancakes?”
“Crepes.”
“I’m better at pancakes.”
“You gonna make me breakfast?”
“Got nobody else. It’s the weekend.”
“I’ll wait for Minerva.”
“Who is Minerva?” We either had a Minerva on staff or Dad was confused. Alzheimer’s did that to people.
“The nurse who comes on Mondays. She brings me food from her home, so if a nice girl brings you food, marry her immediately. You have my blessing.”
“Pancakes it is.” I hopped off the bed and headed for the door.
“Nikola,” he said, putting more force into the word.
Here we go again. It never stopped, and I wasn’t sure I wanted it to stop, because it would mean my dad was dead. “Sons don’t make themselves.”
“I know.”
“You’re forty. How many pussies is it gonna take to trap you?”
“You want syrup on your pancakes?”
“Happy birthday.”
“Thanks. Syrup?”
“Brother, is that you?”
I’d lost him. Alzheimer’s. Dementia. Who the fuck knew what they called it anymore.
I didn’t care what they called it when they couldn’t cure it.
But the short moments when he recognized me were priceless.
I closed the door behind me and dialed Ludi.
He didn’t answer. I dialed Ivana and heard her phone ringing behind the door I passed on my way back to my bedroom.
Female voices sounding from the kitchen told me people had slept in my house, and hearing Neven’s laughter told me I didn’t have to worry about more stray puppies playing around, sticking their little noses into things that were best left untouched.
Inside my bedroom, I heard the shower running. Excellent.
Last night’s clothes smelled of whiskey and cigars, and stale cologne lingered on my neck and collar.
I walked into my bathroom. The clear shower glass hid nothing, and neither did she.
She didn’t cover her privates or even flinch, just kept blinking her pretty blue eyes at me.
I stripped off my clothes and joined her, turning on the opposite showerhead.
It beat my head and back, working out the kink in my neck.
A quiet girl. And I wasn’t much of a talker either.
Two naked adults stood in the shower. What was there to say?
Her eyes roamed over my body, lingering on the tattoo under my pectoral and over the entire span of my abdomen.
She continued the perusal all the way down, then reached for me.
I stepped closer, telling her with no words she could touch me.
Slender, tanned fingers traced the swirls of the tattoo and circled my belly, dragging lower and finally wrapping around my hard-on.
I fisted her hair and tugged it down. She dropped to her knees and took me into her mouth. Groaning, I licked my lips at the feel of her warm mouth.
With a hand in her hair, I moved her the way I liked it sucked, pausing briefly when the tip hit the back of her throat so it could choke her. Holding her there, I pinched her nose, staring at her as traces of mascara ran down the corners of her eyes.
I released her and rested my hands on my hips, letting her suck me any way she wanted, but she sucked me just the way I wanted. Deep, long, and slow, drawing up my balls with each glide of her tongue and lips.
I grabbed my balls and squeezed. She pumped me faster, moaning as if I was getting her off.
I liked this. The pent-up arousal lingering in my balls since yesterday made them heavy, made my body ready to bend her over and fuck her for days.
Snarling, I yanked her up and stepped back, shooting cum all over her breasts.
Water poured over us, and I wiped my face, uncapped a shampoo bottle, and got on with showering as if nothing happened so she couldn’t read how great she made me feel. I didn’t want her to know I thought anything of this strange chemistry between us, because there was no us.
As if we’d reached some sort of understanding, the girl nodded and exited the shower.
Cute small feet on the gray tile, she wrapped her hair and body with a towel.
She picked up my toothbrush, put paste on it, and brushed her teeth.
That wasn’t all. Once done, she added more toothpaste and passed me the brush.
Stunned, I accepted it, and she left the bathroom.
Where was she going?
Leaving for good or just downstairs?
Shampoo slid into my eye. “Fuck,” I said to no one and rinsed quickly.
One-eyed, I rushed out of the shower, slipped, toothbrush flying out of my hand as I fell backward, barely catching myself on the sink.
Immediately, I straightened up and gripped the edges of the sink. I hated rushing and wet floors.
I bent and got the toothbrush, rinsed it, and brushed my teeth, then spit into the sink like I spit on Ranko’s dead body a few weeks ago after I found out he’d lied to me.
If you couldn’t trust people in your immediate circle, then you were a fucking island, and islands had limited supplies.
Eventually, one had to leave the island or die of starvation or boredom.
I kept close friends. When they betrayed me, I executed them. Personally. Not with Ludi.
These thoughts took me where I didn’t want to go this morning but when the girl returned to the bathroom, I wasn’t thinking of anything else. I turned and leaned against the sink. She was wearing my white V-neck undershirt. I tapped my finger on the sink, thinking I liked this too.
She was weird, this girl. Got nothing to say, only to do, moving around my bedroom as if she’d been here for a decade.
I sensed…entitlement in the way she carried herself, as if the world was her resource and her fearlessness came across as submission.
It made me feel like I could do anything I wanted with her.
I could do anything I wanted with any girl I wanted, but the trouble was, I never wanted. Did I want this one? Hmm.
She handed me a towel.
I gripped her wrist, held it. “You like syrup with pancakes?”
“Yes, Boss.”
I laughed. “That’s all I ever want to hear.”
She nodded and headed out. I followed her, then remembered I was naked. The girl slipped out, and I stared at the door. Should’ve locked it and tied her to my bedpost.
In the walk-in closet, I grabbed the first pair of black sweats I got my hands on, grinding my teeth against the urge to initiate the lockdown protocol and keep the girl here for however long my urges lasted.
Dressed, I ran out of my bedroom and slid down the railing, hopped onto the floor, and ran into Neven, who was coming out of the kitchen. We collided.
A pan flew out of his hand, a carafe of orange juice slipped too, and we tried to catch the two things before they fell, our hands flying around and making us look like a drunk octopus. I caught the pan. He got the juice.
Silence as we stared at each other. Or rather, he stared at me, stunned. I hated rushing and definitely didn’t run around my house shirtless and barefoot. I walked or prowled, so my rushing took him by surprise. This morning, I felt a bit out of sorts.
“Dobro jutro.” He bid me a good morning. “Something going on?” His eyes scanned past my shoulder, then outside, everywhere around me, quickly, assessing any dangers. Finding none, he stared at me.
Six girls at the bar stared at me too, awaiting an answer.
I shook my head and flipped the pan, then headed for the cupboards. I didn’t answer to any of them, and even if I did, I’d lie. The girl was in my house, sipping coffee, a clean plate in front of her. She was waiting for pancakes. I had to feed my puppy. Inwardly, I smiled and got the pancake mix.