14
“You’re late.”
“Do you want me to make up an excuse? I’m creative today,” Denis asks, making me smile. “Want some?” he offers after taking a seat on the wooden bench next to me and handing me a blunt.
“Stop smoking that crap.”
“It helps you relax. You should use it, seeing how you’ve been walking around with that shitty face all day.”
My eyes go to his skull, remembering the first time we met in the military academy cafeteria. I wonder what I saw in him that day that made me want to make him my right-hand man and tie him to my side for life.
“You’re in my seat,” I said as I entered the cafe and saw him sitting in my chair.
The round table was in the center and had only one seat. Mine. Denis looked up, his confused expression changing to a mocking smile.
“Oh yeah? Where does it say that?” He turned around and checked the back of the chair. “I can’t see anything.”
Before he could take another bite of his food, I grabbed a handful of his hair and slammed his face into the plate, breaking it in two.
I kept going until his nose began to bleed profusely and a small trickle of blood ran down his forehead.
Then, with my finger stained with his blood, I wrote my name on the back of the chair.
“Do you see it now?” I asked with a grin, waiting for an answer that never came. He had fallen unconscious with his head on the broken plate.
I moved his body aside and took his place in the chair. Then I used the fork to take a piece of whatever meat was left, splattered with his blood, and shoved it into my mouth.
A few hours later I was leaving the infirmary after having patched myself up. I ran into him again, as if he were a barnacle I couldn’t get rid of.
“Have you come to kill me?” he said as soon as he saw me, attempting a smile.
“You won’t have that privilege. At least not yet.” I replied with a brief smile.
“Oh, what a disappointment.”
“You have a very hard head.” I fixed my attention on his bandaged head. I did not expect him to survive after the brutal blows to his skull.
“Thanks. I train every day by hitting myself against the wall. I prefer tables, though,” he muttered with bitter irony.
I found him interesting. I might regret what I was about to say, but back then, I didn’t think too much about it.
“I like you—”
“No. Sorry to break your heart, but I’m straight. For now, at least. So go find yourself another sex toy,” he replied, interrupting what I was about to say with a pained expression.
“That’s not what I mean, idiot—” I was interrupted again before I could continue.
“What do you want then? For us to be best friends forever? Because let me tell you, you have a strange way of making friends.” I closed my eyes and touched my temples in irritation.
“I want you to work for me when we get out. You’ll be some kind of shit like my right-hand man. Do you know how to shoot?” I asked after letting out a snort.
“Yes.”
“What are you good at?”
“I’m good with computers and manipulating people.” He pointed to his face with a sly smile. “This little face here can get you anything you want.”
“Your face looks like shit right now, but it works for me,” I said before turning around and walking out.
A mistake, indeed.
“You should have come to the concert today. You would have liked it,” he murmurs, pulling me away from my memories.
“Why?” I ask disinterestedly.
I don’t like crowded places, so I don’t give a shit about his concerts, but he still always tries to convince me to go.
“Lena was there.”
“Did she say anything to you?” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.
“No, but I saw her talking to James.”
“Remind me why he still has his head,” I mutter under my breath before putting a cigarette between my lips. Hearing his stupid name always makes me nervous.
“He plays very well. If I fired him, it would be bad for the band, and we are about to go on tour.” I nod, lighting my cigarette and taking a drag.
Then I watch out of the corner of my eye as my Rottweiler picks up the femur from the grass in his teeth and trots toward us with it in his mouth.
“Don’t stress, I’ll keep you informed about everything,” he adds, blowing smoke out of his nose.
“If I were you, I would have conquered her before the competition became big again.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. There’s no competition for me.” Everyone knows I’m the next Pakhan. It’s just a matter of time before my father finally goes to hell. Denis next to me snorts, amused by the confusion his stupid, meaningless warning has left me in.
“I wasn’t referring to that kind of competition.”
“She will not notice someone who doesn’t exist,” I reply quickly.
We’re made for each other. There’s no one better than me at pleasing those little demons that struggle to rise from the ashes, and she tries to push back every day.
“You’d better win her back, and with the way you’re going, you’re doing it badly.
” I try to ignore him, calling my dog over so I have an excuse to drop the topic.
“Or you could forget about her. Get a change of scenery. Don’t you like blondes?
” Is all I can hear from his monologue when he finally shuts the hell up.
He then raises his eyebrows, as if he’s just discovered something big, and an unpleasant chill runs down my spine at the thought of that bizarre idea.
“You’ve been in love with her for a decade?
Fuck. That’s embarrassing for your image as a future Pakhan.
You definitely need to forget about her before someone else finds out.
I offer myself to eliminate witnesses. We can start with that carrot-top imbecile brother of hers. I don’t like him for Romi.”
“It’s more embarrassing to go around sharing your fluids with everyone,” I retort in a harsh voice. He lets out a mocking snort.
“As if you’ve never done it.” My silence seems to serve as an answer, judging by the confused look on his face.
“Because you have. Right?” he asks a moment later, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Oh, for Lucifer’s sake!” I give him a murderous look, signaling him to lower his voice without denying his assumptions.
“Now I know why you always have that shitty face. Wait. Then you didn’t complete—? ”
“I don’t understand why we have to talk about this shit when we have more important things to discuss,” I cut him, putting another cigarette between my lips.
“Don’t be boring. Best friends talk about these things,” he mutters, raising an eyebrow. Noticing my gaze, he continues in an incredulous tone. “You said you’d give your life for me, so obviously we’re BFF and all that fucking shit.”
“I said I’d get between you and a bunch of bullets and get killed rather than listen to you anymore,” I correct him, recalling one of our recent shootouts.
His ability to keep talking would amaze you as if there were no tomorrow, even in the middle of a shootout.
He clicks his tongue, dismissing what I said as if it were the same thing he said but with different words.
“For your fucking good luck, I’m here to make your sad days of celibacy a little happier. What would you do without me, huh?” He hits my ribs with his elbow.
“Have some peace,” I reply dryly. I know that I still affect her just as she affects me, and not solely because of the twenty-five tattoos I got for her.
I have no other plan than finishing Carrie after the tragic dinner with my parents downstairs. I can’t leave the house again this week, so I had to give my boxing match tickets to Lance as an apology.
When I open the door and see him lying on my bed with his back against the mattress and his ankles intertwined, my heart almost sinks to the floor. When he sees me, he smiles and sits up.
“Hi.” His hoarse voice echoes off the walls of the room. Or perhaps it’s my head that loves to play his voice over and over again. When I see the black bag at his feet, my heart beats so fast that I can’t breathe normally.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say in a low whisper, daring to look at him for the first time.
The sight of him makes my muscles clench in fear, but that feeling vanishes when I remember how mad I am with him.
I offered him a glimpse into the dark pit that is my mind, and all he did was walk away as if nothing happened.
Even though we have hardly exchanged words.
He would have no way of knowing. But that’s not the point right now.
“Go away,” I mutter through clenched teeth. My eyes, which once looked at him with adoration and fear, now pretend to destroy him from the face of the earth.
“We agreed I wouldn’t hurt you. You have nothing to fear, love.” Something tells me he’s not being entirely honest with me, but I prefer not to let my curiosity get the better of me this time. I don’t want to end up like the cat.
I press my lips together as memories of the previous night flood my mind and my lower abdomen. The only thing that can get me away from them is his exasperated snort. Then he pulls out a black MacBook and starts typing something.
“Don’t call me love. And what are you doing in my room?”
“I’ll call you whatever I want. Love,” he says with a cocky smile. “You better be here in five seconds.” He turns his attention away from the screen and toward me as I clench my teeth angrily. “One.”
That’s my cue to go down to the kitchen and tell the butler or whoever that there’s a criminal in my room and to call the police. Although that would be useless and sound stupid considering how we ended up yesterday. It would be better to call Satan and make a deal with him.
“Five.” I blink in confusion, focusing my eyes on him. He hasn’t even counted. Before he gets up, I rush to the bed and sit down far away from him, leaning back against the headboard. “Let’s watch movies.”
“Sorry. I don’t think I heard you right,” I murmur, a slight blush colouring my cheeks because, apparently, now I also have problems with my hearing.