Chapter Nine
Ava
I fling my apartment door open, groaning with nervousness and excitement.
Sarah closes the door gently, shutting it behind her. “So, you make how much again for extra money?” The concern seeps from her.
I keep myself from facing her as I stand in the living room, placing my hands on my hips. A sigh of slight frustration presses against my cheeks because I have no idea what I will make nor do I care. My only hesitancy is being able to complete this personal mission with confidence.
Especially with that fucking devotional deep voice of his when he talks to me.
I turn to her, pushing the lump down that began to form in my throat, “Well, they said small errands here and there. It probably is to just run and pick up food or something. You know, so they don’t get their pretty boy paws dirty.”
Sarah’s eyebrows shoot up, “You think they're pretty,” she teases in a sing-songy tune, poking her fingers out.
I grasp the nearest object, which to her luck is a pillow, and chunk it at her. “No…” I fought back the bright red heat that was creeping up my neck and into my cheeks.
“Mmmhm, yeah sure, ok. So you hung out with one of the most powerful and richest men yesterday, and now his brother wants to hang out with you?”
“I didn’t hang . I was offered a job by my boss , and your boss by the way.” I undo my hair as I go to my room, “Plus Stepan was kinda weird yesterday. I never thought that he would be a drunk. I mean yes… a fucking asshole but not a drunk-asshole,” I say, raising my voice while I start to fold a few shirts and sweatshirts into a bag.
Sarah stands in the doorway, “What are you doing?” she asks, furrowing her brows.
“I am packing a bag. I have to stay there, remember?”
Roman has another thing coming, with him poking his pretty-boy nose around along with those pretty-boy paws, but it makes me want to find the evidence quicker, so I can rub his whole fucking existence into it. Though, I can’t help the excitement as my nipples harden, thinking about being around him. Even if I would be his downfall, I am glad I won’t be with Stepan tonight. I don’t think I could deal with that right now and his pretentious drunkenness.
She nods slowly, “Look, you could just tell him you had plans…” She is so patient with me. As much as I want to run and tell her my plans , I force my back to her, shoving more clothes in the duffle bag. I am nonchalant and cold, pushing her away. The last thing I was going to do was drag her into this.
I sling the bag over my shoulder and dive into a hug. I hold her close as tears well in my eyes. It was physically painful at this point to not tell her, but I know she deserves simplicity. Opening my eyes, a red and black object on my pillow distracts me.
I don’t have time for this shit.
I straighten my arms out from her, settling my hands on her shoulders, to make sure she doesn’t accidentally see what was waiting for me.
She let out a sigh, “Hey, it’s going to be ok. You’ll be back in a few days. But before you leave, take this.” Sarah leaps from my arms and hurries to her purse and to my relief it’s in the living room. She sits down on the couch rummaging, clunking the knick-knacks against each other as I walk over to my bed. I stall over my pillow as I stare downward in a fog.
“I found it!” Sarah exclaims triumphantly.
I grasp the card and little cardboard box that was sitting next to it, stuffing them into my bag as fast as I can.
I face Sarah as she reaches the open doorway. “That is great…” I reply.
She looks behind me with questioning concern, “What…what did I miss?”
“Just happy to start this new adventure,” I promise her as I think about Roman from earlier. I will follow him tonight and the ticking of his clock, taunting me to jump in to uncover the truth and discover what’s underneath it all. When I do, I will be able to finally shake these chains from my wrists and expose it for everyone to see.
Sarah hovers her arms in front of her, snapping me back to reality, “Here.” One hand has a knife, nestling in a black molle-webbing sheath with a circular leather garter and the other hand has a black block. She bobs the objects up and down, “Well, go on then and take your pick.”
I point to the box, “What is that?”
“Oh, a taser.” My eyes kick suspicion, squinting at her. Well, it seems there are some things I didn’t know about her. Maybe, she wasn’t as innocent as she let on.
I thought the fight for my normalcy made it to the finish line, but the growing welt in my stomach, commanding me to grab the knife, halts the race. I take the blade from her as the realization hits. The race ended when I decided to take on the Volokhov, not the knife.
Like I am some kind-of fucking secret agent.
Sarah laughs, “If you witness anything sketchy, make sure to call the alphabet agency,” Sarah’s smile fades as her mouth becomes stern, "No, but really."
I pace to the bathroom, “Uh, yeah.” My eyes widen as I shut the door, pressing my back against it. I toss the bag down and crouch over it. The zipper slowly opens as my fingers shake. I stare at the card, biting my lips together. As I pick it up, I rub the matte material between my fingers, focusing on the splattered white rabbit. I flip to the backside to find the handwritten message:
‘Open the box before you read.’
The cardboard box was like one of those to-go containers that folds into each other, to make sure contents don't spill everywhere. It is light, like whoever is leaving me notes filled it with air. I unfold it, peering inside and grab the contents by the handful. I open my palm slightly to make sure they don't fall. “What in the fuck?” I whisper, dropping them back into the box. Sliding it into the bag, I flip the card over to read.
My Sweet, Sweet Rabbit,
Your eyes glitter like moss,
Your legs long, like a summer night,
I want them around me, and I will, even if that means I hold you down tight,
I promise I will make you scream my name,
But until then, I think of you, and for every thought and touch,
A bunny tail for my love rush.
I stare down at the last sentence. Love rush. I open the box once again to count how many cotton balls there were. Three in total. I whisper to myself, “So, a secret admirer- stalker-shithead sent me cotton balls like they are rabbit tails?” I repeat it in my head to comprehend what is happening, “love rush… from when they think about me? ” I say with disgust.
I rub my thumb over the blackberry thread of my shirt and pull it over my head, snatching a black sweater off the hanging hook behind the door. I toss it over my head and adjust the sleeves as I stare at myself in the mirror. Grabbing my toothbrush and essentials, I shove them into a cosmetic bag, along with my worry about the stalker.
I hum a sing-song, “I don’t have the mental capacity for this right now… I have a lot on my plate…” The playful singing didn’t help. Anxiety slaps my face as I try to breathe evenly, wringing my fingers together. Plastering on my invisible mask, I grab the duffle bag.
I can do this.
I force a smile as I make my way into the living room.
Sarah stares at her phone, “Make sure to text me. Promise?” She dotes, like a mother would.
I bounce toward the door as adrenaline pumps through my veins, “Well, duh.” I slip my phone into my back pocket as I open the door. I turn the deadbolt with my key and take a mental note of locking it, like it would double my chances that whoever this stalker and murderer was, would be deterred from that.
Just my luck, right? First, the guy I was with is murdered and branded, I make a decision to take down the Volokhov Bratva, and now a fucking creep, that is way too much of a coincidence to the murderer. An obsession with me. A dark obsession.
We walk silently in the dark, as Roman stands on the dimly lit sidewalk. We exit the Cafe, and Sarah locks the door behind us as Roman faces us.
His face divots, lowering a brow, “What’s in the bag?
I hold onto the strap for dear life, "Well, I need my regular things, you know?” My knees go weak from the way his eyes watch me, “So, now you can show me to my room after whatever work you need help with,” I say sternly so I don’t crumble. I need to have some sense of control over this situation.
His face is semi in shock with the terms and conditions as he lifts a corner of his mouth, “Ok, princess. But I warn you, my brother doesn’t have room service.” His eyes flick with mischievous fire, poking at me.
My cheeks flare a hot pink as I nod, playing off my embarrassment. I hate how he made me blush with a flippant pet name. “Well, good for your brother. I know how to find a kitchen on my own,” I argue, disdainfully.
He stretches his hand wide with his palm up, “Phone. Now.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Sarah steps away from the door, “Uhm, yeah, what?”
Roman towers over me as I hold my breath, trapping his familiar scent of amber and tobacco in my lungs. He deviously smiles his bright teeth, “Well, here is the thing. Stepan gave me the orders and well, he is not only your boss but also mine." He reaches around me as I stand like a statue, peeking through my eyelashes upward. His hand slips into my back pocket and grabs my phone out. I step back as my face distorts into distrust. His dark brown eyes meet mine, pocketing the phone, “The princess will be taken care of.” His gravelly voice warms the lower part of me as his eyes somehow blaze, pacifying me for a second.
A tangle of a heavy exhale, parts my lips, “Ok, for one, I am not a princess. For two, are we ready or are we just going to babble about the hierarchy of royalty all night?” I sass, shaking my head as I turn to Sarah. Squeezing her tight, I whisper, “I will be fine. I will see you in 3 days,” I assure, as she nods her head.
I brush inches away from Roman as I strut to his unmistakable Mercedes SUV.
I’m getting better with my performance.
The white streetlight glow outlines my silhouette in front of me, provoking me to jump in and escape into the puddle of my own shadow. Roman catches up to me in a hurry as I jiggle the passenger door handle.
I ignore him as he leans on the car behind me, crossing his arms. A beep from the car startles me as he pushes the unlock button on his keys, “Not very patient are we,” he says.
I hold the duffle bag strap tightly as I duck my head down to sit, his hand gently grasps the back of my upper arm pulling me to a stand.
“Your bag.”
I sling it off my shoulder handing him my black and pink duffle bag. “The pink daisies are a nice touch,” he says, playfully.
I tilt my head with a smile, “I didn’t know you were a luggage connoisseur?” He narrows his eyes and I fold my lips together, realizing I was starting to tread on a razor edge.
He let out a low hum, like I was getting under his skin but he liked it. I start to blush, embarrassed that I was only trying to protect myself with my snarky attitude, but he is enjoying it.
Footsteps pat down the sidewalk and my head shoots to the direction of the commotion. It’s Shawn, but why was he in this area? He knows the Cafe’s hours.
He slows his jog, “Hey! Ava!” His hair mattes to his forehead, despite the chill in the air. He picks up his speed into a trot toward us as Roman steps in front of me.
I slid outward from behind Roman. “Uh, Hey Shawn?”
He points at Roman, “What are you doing Ava?”
“Well… um… the Cafe is closed for now so luckily not at work but…what…?”
His eyes are bloodshot and wide and his lips are cracked and worn. He looks a lot different than when I saw him earlier. His erratic bouncing on his toes makes me take a step back.
“You said you had things to do I thought? I thought we could have gone out tonight? Why are you with him? Don’t you want to go out?” Shawn’s eyes were shifting back and forth like a ping-pong ball. From me, to Roman, me, Roman and to me like a dance of a mad-man seething before an attack. “Oh…oh, I see now. I get it,” he says as he makes a three-sixty with his hand on his hip, running the other through his blonde hair.
I was silent, unable to comprehend what to say. This was not the normal suave lawyer I serve coffee to. This is a maniac. He pouts his lower lip out like he was having a tantrum, shrugging his shoulders over. He crosses his arms as he twists his head.
Son of a bitch, this is my stalker.
Roman motions with his hand behind his back, waving slightly at me. I took this as a clue to get the fuck out of here and into the SUV.
Roman was calm. “She is my employee. She is helping my family with opening another store. Why do you care so much, Shawn ?”
“Sure, ok. Oh, yeah I’m sure ,” Shawn sarcastically says as he steps backwards on his heels.
With strong steps, Roman leaves Shawn in the dust as I watch him through the side mirror. Shawn is standing on the corner under the street light like a lost puppy.
The slam of the driver's door makes me jump. “I’m helping open another store?” I ask in a murmur.
“No, and I didn’t know you had a fan?” He teases as he sips from a to-go coffee mug.
I buckle my seatbelt as he plucks at his black leather jacket, situating himself. A chill sent my body into a shiver, wishing I would have grabbed my jacket. Without losing his concentration, he keeps his eyes fixated on me as he presses the seat warming button. His face is emotionless but it wasn’t the questioning type, you know the ones waiting for a thank you.
I really hope I didn’t get into the car just to be met with a painful death in the woods somewhere, and he was just warming up his kill. I know they are killers but Roman was different from his brother in some ways. Stepan was more the type of, I can’t get my hands dirty or I’ll get my fucking panties in a wad, and Roman is a mystery of swirling black ink . I’ve known Stepan for a long time, so I know what works from observing him, but with Roman, I have no idea what to expect from him.
He turns his key in the ignition, “He seems like a fucking stalker to me,” he says as he drives the SUV from the street corner.
I fold my bottom lip in, biting it before popping it outward, “He is a regular at The Rabbit.” I bounce my leg, knowing he was right, but he doesn't need to know that he was also leaving me weird notes. “So, if we are not opening up a store then what are we doing, and does Stepan know about this?” The moment his name vomits from my mouth, my stomach waves.
Roman takes his eyes off the road and looks at me, “Like I said, he is my boss too. He said you were the errand boy. For what reason I don’t know why, but what better way to find out by watching you closely,” he says sinisterly. The tension between us is like a tight band, like it could snap and slash my face at any moment. He keeps his eyes on me as I shift mine forward and back to him, afraid he could crash. I didn’t hint at why I was here, but the way he doesn’t lose his concentration is making me sweat. He not only had his nose in my fucking business, but his whole body is now in my way.