Chapter 6 #2
“Nothing but between the affairs of the divine and human, we can’t expect God to do everything for us.
If we believe in ourselves and in our faith and act, then God helps.
Not by praying and waiting around doing nothing.
It’s even written that faith without action is dead.
God didn’t plan for their parents to die or give them away.
So why not help the children find families?
Help them, and in turn we help ourselves. ”
She raised a cynical brow, her face etched in skepticism. “We must trust and wait for him. He has a vision and design, and we are obligated to follow his command. That’s it.”
Deep within where my soul resided, something cracked.
That was insufficient.
Didn’t they understand there was so much more to it?
Perhaps God had a plan; however, what about making our choices and changing our destiny? He gave us free will, right? So it had to mean something. It meant I could choose what to do with my life like the rest of humankind.
But why couldn’t anyone see it that way?
No one wanted to talk about the possibility of taking accountability for our actions and trying to do better.
I wasn’t satisfied, and based on the faces of judgment around me, I feared I never would be.
Remaining silent in my thoughts when the rumbling of the crowd increased and a gnawing, poking sensation ate at my gut.
“Who is that?” Marie asked, blushing like a virgin.
“Who?”
A fine line of uncertainty wavered in the air.
She pointed behind me as I hesitantly angled my head over my shoulder, and my jaw dropped in horror.
Black leather jacket. Black v-shirt. Blue worn jeans. Tanned boots. Black hair slicked back to his collar. Finally, Russian blue eyes. The man was like a chameleon, adjusting to his surroundings easily, as he could persuade even the roughest of hearts.
Konstantin.
“It can’t be.” I murmured.
My heart racing and clenching in pending doom. It felt like I was going to have a heart attack.
Jesus, help me.
“That man is—” Marie couldn’t complete her sentence, memorized by him just like every woman in his vicinity.
I rolled my eyes, fists by my side. “Trouble.”
The rest of the nuns came flocking together collectively. Nearing us until we were huddling together as nearly every single one of them talked over the other.
Reverend Mother clapped her hands once, quieting all of them down. “Sisters, compose yourselves.” She said uptight. “Look, he may be a man, but a wealthy businessman. If we approach this correctly, he will be able to provide for the church.”
The nuns hummed in agreement.
I butted in. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” Wrinkles covered her face as the rest of the sisters gawked at me with eager vexation.
“Well,” I swallowed their dirty looks. “He’s a stranger.” Plus it sounds self-interested. I mean, doesn’t the church already have enough money? Look at the golden statues and painted ceilings. What more could you want? Greedy heifers.
She brushed me off, tsking. “Nonsense. We must have open hearts and accept only the best of those who have.” The rest of the sisters yayed in agreement, as Superior Mother side-eyed me. “Now, alright, who will go talk to him?”
In a split second, all the sisters shot up their hands, standing on their tippy toes, eager at the idea.
Lord, please help them.
Reverend Mother was taken aback, overwhelmed by the enthusiasm, as I knew there was no one better to sacrifice themselves for the cause but me.
I tapped her on the shoulder, and she gazed down at her nose. “Fine, I’ll go talk to him.” And kick him in the fucking nuts.
A suspicious gleam of distrust washed over her eyes before giving in to rationality a second later. “Alright, Blair shall go.”
The sisters lamented in sorrow. Some even hanging their heads low and pouting.
Damn, desperate much?
Nodding, I moved through them and walked further and further away as I felt thousands of pinning stares at the row of my spine. Hating that after all the hard work and stress this man put me through, I was going to have to treat him like a special guest.
Softly approaching him like a mouse, my heels paused in the grass, five feet away.
His large back faced me as I caught him in a nearby vendor stand, admiring the artistry.
His brows dipped in interest as he passed his hands over the material delicately.
He almost looked peacefully distracted, and that was nice, if he wasn’t disturbing my peace.
“Kotyonok, if you’re going to stare, at least do it from up close.” He languidly rasped.
Don’t punch him. Don’t punch him. Don’t punch him.
My feet treaded carefully, stopping when I was side to side. Folding my arms, whispering madly, “What are you doing outside?”
He flickered his gaze up and to me. “I’m enjoying the view.”
The small, insignificant, jittery feeling conjured in my stomach, partially flattered, but I wasn’t another lovesick girl wanting his attention.
“Do you have a death wish?”
“No,” A lazy smirk brushed his lips, the intent clear that he wanted me to keep him as my dirty little secret. “Though I wish for many other things.”
Lord I—
The vendor, an older, rugged-faced Italian man wearing a plaid shirt and khakis, was intently focused on our conversation. Most likely a snitch that started town rumors.
He should be glad he wasn’t in the mafia, or his ass would have been shot.
“Let’s take a walk.” I offered.
Kon looked at the vendor and back at me, getting the idea. “Alright.”
We strode forward, passing through the lines of vendors, avoiding the direct line of sight of the nuns as many locked their eyes on us, especially the young beautiful women like myself, but they all inherently had a knack for the criminal beside me.
I began picking at my nails, the racing in my chest unable to find ease.
Damn him. Had he no sense of survival? Or did he think that with his damned pistol he could conquer the world?
Little by little we lost the crowd’s attention as the children began to scurry around, asking for people to play with them.
Though there were still a plethora of women who would wait around and invite him to their bed.
A sick, twisted tinge of bitterness grew an ugly head, raging in my chest cavity.
Konstantin slid his hands in his pocket, and a fine line drew between his brows again as he appeared to slow his pace to match mine. “Did you just take me away to have me all by yourself?”
Disgusted by the idea, I scowled. “As if.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The problem is you’re not supposed to be here. Do you have no sense of danger? What if you get caught? There are cops all over the place looking for you.”
“One cop at the entrance. Two parked in a car nearby on a lunch break. I assessed the surrounding area, and there is nothing more dangerous than that mechanic machine if it were to break down and collapse on top of me.”
Narrowing my eyes at his insolence, I said, “Not funny. What if the cops notice you? They’ll send your ass straight to prison. Well, that will be great because I’ll get the bed to myself, so knock yourself out.”
“You like sleeping by yourself?”
“Very much.”
“Then I could find another woman’s bed to sleep in.”
“Well, I’ve had my fair share of both men’s and women’s beds, and women tend to be better on most occasions, so be my guest and let me get back to my life. Thanks.” I turned on my heel and was about to take a step before he caught my arm and pulled me back to him.
“You’re jealous,” he added, reveling in his manly pride. “You know it’s not my fault women find me so appealing. I can’t help my god-given charms. Second, you say I’m drawing attention, but if you stopped looking like you want to attack me, then they wouldn’t notice as much.”
A war raged in my heart, not wanting to believe in his nonsense.
I diverted the conversation, mocking a small chuckle. “Yeah, as if people won’t notice a six-three Slavic giant roaming around.”
“Six-five.”
“What?”
“I’m not six-three. I’m six-five.”
“Idiot.”
I slapped his chest as a laugh escaped his tempting full lips. The distraction made his hands slip from my shoulders. His fleeting warmth was gone.
“Alright, no need to be such a zanuda.”
“A what? What did you just call me? Don’t insult me in that stuffy language of yours.” I shout accusingly.
“Relax, I just said you’re a bore.”
My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “A bore? Ha! That’s funny coming from a geezer like yourself. I mean, when was the last time you had fun in 1992?”
“Well, I am thirty-three, kotyonok, so it’s nice of you to remember my birth year.”
He completely missed the point.
“Really, thirty-three? You look older.”
“The older the better, baby,” he winked suggestively.
“Not always.”
“And how old are you, kotyonok?”
“I’m twenty-two, your point?”
His deep blue gaze tracked my body up and down, calculating to see if I could keep up with him. “You lack experience.”
I smiled carelessly, shaking my head from side to side. If he was going to play that game, then he should be prepared. “Oh, baby, experience is the one thing I got.”
A charming yet deviant look flashed in his eyes, lips amused. “Show me then.” His voice edged with his Russian accent.
“Stick around long enough and you might just find out.” I slightly bumped my shoulder into his, teasing the fine lines of sins and virtue.
Walking ahead of him, I flaunted my hips side to side in this lined dress that hugged every inch of my skin as I stopped in front of a vendor who sold cotton candy.
Konstantin caught up with me.
I smiled at the older lady with chunky pink glasses and a floral beige summer dress. She looked like someone’s nonna.
“Un sac-chemo di cotton candy.” I spoke in broken Italian.
The old lady squinted her eyes, and her face distorted in confusion.
Kon’s lips thinned.
“What?” I turned to him.
“Your Italian is worse than your knowledge of the church.”