The men don’t stop talking, they continue with their word vomiting. Over their shit, and ready to get it all figured out, I pull my gun from its sheath and fire off a shot into the air, finally shutting them the fuck up. Timur turns to me with an eyebrow raised. I just shrug without saying a word. There’s nothing to say, it got the job done and it’s finally quiet. He turns back, his attention glued to the men leaning on to the table in front of him.
“Now that you’ve played the blame game like a bunch of pussies, let's start this story from the beginning. I’ve received confirmation from the families in the south, telling me my shipment was released from their hands and placed directly into your associates. This was done so with the belief that the cargo was to be delivered to me here. Only at this moment in time, I am missing not one, but fucking two shipments.'' The men start talking over each other, again, but stop quickly when Timur holds his hands up, silencing them. “Before you even start, know that throwing each other under the bus isn’t how we get things done around here. If I don’t get the answers I want, you won’t be making it home with all of your appendages intact.”
With that threat hanging in the air, things start to go smoother, and they stop trying to blame each other and start communicating, trying to figure out what’s gone wrong. It takes us about three hours to get anywhere, and the men in front of us promise that in the next two days, we’d either know who had our shipments, or they would show up. Mysterious how something that’s supposedly missing could suddenly be found and delivered. Sounds like a load of bullshit, but that’s something I don’t have time to investigate… yet. Timur ends the meeting letting the men leave, showing them ultimate disrespect by not standing or showing them any recognition as they leave. Once they head out, Timur stands, turning to me with a displeased look that I know all too well.
“I don’t trust them. Get our guys on this. One of those assholes is taking my shit. Let’s get this figured out and take out the trash.”
“I’ll have answers in the next twenty-four hours. No matter what it takes,” I promise as he grabs ahold of my forearm, pulling me into a one-armed hug.
“I’ve got to get home before that wife of mine leaves because I don’t bring home what she’s craving fast enough.” Timur pretends to look off but I know he lives for both his woman and their unborn baby.
“I’ll take you. Something isn’t right,” I declare, not liking him being out and about without protection at his back.
“I have two of your hand-picked Sovientnik to bring me home. Go home. Get some rest. For shit’s sake, go check on Aubrey,” Timur suggests, only it feels more like an order than an actual suggestion.
I grunt, not wanting to confirm his suspicions that Aubrey is on my mind, in any way, as we wander out of the warehouse.
Aubrey
Stretching my stiff muscles,I reach out and over to the other side of the bed, finding the sheets ice cold. My heart stutters at the fact that I’m alone, and Nico has left me here without letting me know. Why him not being here causes such fear to ignite inside of me, I’ll never know. I’ve been here alone ninety percent of the time since I moved in without freaking out like I am now.
So, why in this moment, do I feel the nasty claws of fear, and being watched, grabbing a hold of me?
I finally find courage to open my eyes, thankful that my head doesn’t feel like squirrels are drunk and fighting over the same nut. I roll over to find a note addressed to me sitting on the bedside table.
Dusha Moya,
I had to go deal with business.
I’ll check on you later.
You better rest!
Nico
A small smile pulls at the corner of my lips. Maybe this time, he won’t just slither back into the shadows, and leave me again. I take a deep breath, trying to remind myself that one little note does not constitute a love story in the making. I roll back onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, trying to figure out exactly what I should do first. I reach up and try to push my hair off my forehead, realizing that it’s still stuck to my skin.
“Well, that makes the decision easier for me. Shower first, and then we’ll see where we are,” I mumble to myself.
I slowly pull back the blankets, and start to sit up, not sure how things are going to go. When I’m fully sitting, with my feet hanging over the edge of my bed, I wait for the spinning to subside so that when I do stand, I don’t pass out… or you know, have a round of what happened the other day. Once the room stops twirling around me, I stand, and on wobbly feet, slowly make my way to the bathroom to scrub myself clean. I shuffle slowly down the hallway, not bothering to turn the light on until I hit the entrance of the bathroom.
I flick the light on and have to fight back a scream at the sight standing before me. My hair is sticking out like I’ve stuck my finger in a light socket on one side, a rat's nest is sitting on the other side, and some flyaway strands are stuck to my forehead. The bags under my eyes look as if they are packed for a six-month trip to a frozen tundra. I am so pale that Casper has more color than I do.
“It’s time to get your priorities in order, Aubrey. First on the agenda is a shower, and then, you’re going to get yourself together woman,” I tell my reflection, pulling my night shirt over my head and discarding it in the laundry basket.
I turn on the water, and while I wait for the temperature to warm, I brush my teeth and scrub my face. I keep myself occupied so that I don’t look in the mirror, not wanting to see how awful I look right now. When steam starts to billow from the shower, I pull back the yellow shower curtain that is embroidered black geometric shapes, and step in, sighing as the water rolls over my sore body. Carefully, I lean my head back to start letting the water rinse the coagulated blood from my hair. When my layers are fully saturated, I grab my shampoo and begin lathering it into my scalp with my hands, tediously working it onto my roots.
It takes about four washes before the water becomes un-murky and runs clear. I follow it up by adding in a palm full of conditioner, before cleaning the rest of my body, and finally, I start to feel more like a human, and less like a creature that goes bump in the night. I stand in the shower letting my muscles unravel until the water runs cold before stepping out and wrapping a towel around my body. Just as I finish that task, my stomach growls, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten in… I don’t know how long.
Tightening the towel around me, I head back into my room and dress in some comfortable clothes. Finding my favorite set of pajama’s, I pull them on, being careful not to snag the injury on my head. I turn to look for my house shoes and nearly come out of my skin when my phone starts ringing and vibrating. I rush for my phone, only to stop short, deciding that whoever called could just leave a message and be patient enough for me to call them back when it’s convenient for me, because we are not having a repeat of the other day—I’m still mentally and physically struggling to recover from that trip and fall excursion.
I locate my phone laying on the coffee table. I pluck it off the piece of furniture that’s become my frenemy, and trot my way across my perfectly clean living room, and walk directly into my tiny, pristine kitchen. Pulling open the refrigerator door, I whimper when I discover that I have nothing in there to appease my appetite. My phone starts ringing in my hand, again, startling me from my pouting and causing me to nearly drop it.
“What is wrong with you?” I fuss. I see that it’s Cara calling, and smile, since I haven’t checked my missed call log, I’m not sure if this is the first time she’s tried getting in touch with me, and knowing her, if she hasn’t been able to reach me in an acceptable timeframe… for her, she's probably on her way over.
“Hello, my dear!” I smile wide, even though she can’t see it when I answer.
“Well, it’s about damn time you answered the phone. Do you know how worried I’ve been? Especially with the guys having a meeting tonight,” Cara harrumphs, sounding out of breath.
