Taste 2021 edition, p.63
Taste: 2021 Edition, page 63
“I’m sorry I took up so much of your time,” she says. “I didn’t mean to pass out. God, this is so embarrassing.”
Words fail me when she glances at me nervously as she finger-combs her hair back into place and knots it at the nape of her neck with a hair tie. This entire encounter isn’t something I’m particularly used to. I don’t make a habit of small talk, and usually, if she was one of my hookups, I’d be long gone by now. But she isn’t a hookup. Even though I can still feel her lips on mine, and I can still smell her arousal as she offered herself to me like a human sacrifice. My cock throbs at the memory, anxious to squeeze inside her and forget all the reasons this can’t ever happen. I’m trying not to think about that when I point to her left.
“There’s a bathroom if you need to use it.”
“Oh, thank you,” she murmurs as if I read her mind. She tosses the blanket aside and stretches, arching her back and displaying every curve in her body without being aware of it. In the light of day, her tight black pants and corset aren’t doing anything to dull my senses.
She pads to the bathroom with bare feet, and I check my phone for any messages while I try to devise a plan. I need to take her home, drop her off, and tell her to have a nice life. That’s the smart thing to do. But even as I tell myself that, I’m considering what I really want to do.
Katerina reappears from the bathroom, fresh-faced and slightly sheepish. She’s scrubbed off her makeup, and now all that’s left is her vulnerability. It shows when she slips back into the lace-clad gloves that cover the scar on the inside her forearm. The one I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I saw it.
Who hurt you?
I want to ask, but that’s not a path I’m willing to go down. This girl, whoever she is, isn’t for me. I don’t do attachments. I don’t rescue broken women. She needs a nice, sweet guy to set her straight and take her to dinner and the movies. That won’t ever be me, and I already want to murder the motherfucker who gets to have those things with her.
“I’ll take you home.” I force the words out as she slips into her coat and boots.
“There’s no need.” She offers me a shy smile. “I already called Nina. She’s coming to get me.”
“Nina?” I repeat the name with obvious contempt, and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Do you know her?” Katerina asks.
It isn’t something I want to get into, so I deflect. “It’s not a problem for me to drop you off.”
Before she can reply, the elevator doors open, and Andrei appears again with a shit-eating grin on his face when he sees Katerina is awake. Motherfucker.
“My apologies, Levka. I didn’t realize your friend was still here.”
Sure, you didn’t, asshole. “Did you need something else?”
“Yeah, I need to talk to you about those contracts.”
“Right now?” I stare at him incredulously. He’s getting on my last nerve this morning. He’s like a fucking hound, sniffing out my every move. If he had his way, he’d be pissing circles around Kat right now too.
“We only have a short time before my father arrives,” he answers. “I figured it’s best to be prepared.”
As much as I want to deny that he’s right, the big oaf does have a point. The business we have to discuss isn’t about any contracts, but it is time sensitive. When Vasily arrives today, I need to have my head in the game. But even knowing this, I’m still not ready to let Katerina run off just yet. It feels like we have unfinished business, but I don’t yet know what it is. When I glance at her, she’s already moving toward the elevator, slipping out of my grasp.
“I don’t want to keep you,” she says quietly. “I’ll just let myself out. Nina’s downstairs waiting for me.”
I open my mouth to speak, but Andrei is watching me intently, and there is nothing I can say in his presence that he won’t misread. So instead, I simply nod, and she offers me one last sad smile before the elevator doors close her in and sweep her away.
After discussing the von Brandt family at length with Vasily, Andrei and I receive our marching orders. This job is not something I’m at all comfortable with, given my new association with Katerina. Though I don’t particularly care for Nina, Kat considers her a friend. I can’t help wondering how this might affect her if it goes south. But regardless, it’s out of my hands.
William von Brandt brought this on himself, and whatever ill fate befalls him is his responsibility alone. Still, it does not sit easy with me as I consider the position he’s put us in. Vasily does not give more than one warning. In many cases, he doesn’t bother to give any. William is a father and a husband, and he’s playing a dangerous game testing a Vor’s patience this way.
I shake off those feelings and splash some cold water onto my face as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Sometimes, on days like today, I don’t recognize the man staring back at me. What would my mother think if she could see me now? I close my eyes as a sharp pain lances through my chest. It’s a pain that never goes away. No length of time or distance from her memory can spare me from this ache. She would certainly disapprove of my choices, but she isn’t here to tell me so. She isn’t here because someone took her from this world, and now the only recourse I have left is to find out who. At any cost. This is what keeps me going as I continue to show up and fall in line. Nothing can come between me and my revenge. Her death cannot go unpunished.
I shut the bathroom door behind me and consider heading down to the bar to dilute the blood in my veins with some good quality vodka. But before I get the opportunity, something on the sofa catches my eye. A piece of fabric peeks out from between the cushions, and I recognize it as the scarf Katerina was wearing last night. Sure enough, when I retrieve it and bring it to my nose, I can still smell her.
The beautiful, tragic woman continues to haunt me long after her absence. As I thread the fabric between my fingers, I wonder what it is about her that draws me in. She is exactly what I don’t need in my life right now. Or ever, for that matter. Women are a vulnerability. But even as I consider it, I’m already making plans to return the scarf to her. Because now I’m curious about where she lives, and I need to see it for myself. I need to know that she made it home safely.
I stuff the scarf into my jacket and retrieve my phone as I head for the elevator. Pulling up the image of her license from last night, I type the address into my navigation app. It looks like she lives in an apartment complex about twenty minutes away. It’s in the low-rent area of Philadelphia, which means it’s also the highest crime district. Naturally, I have become well acquainted with these streets, but I can’t imagine her living there.
Tightness lingers in my chest as some of the Vory brothers try to intercept me on my way out the door. The meeting has not been finished for more than thirty minutes, and already Andrei is displaying his drunken stupidity.
“Where are you off to so fast?” he demands.
“Good night, Andrei,” I answer him dismissively.
He slips off his barstool in his attempt to stand and falls flat on his ass. Laughter erupts from the men around the bar, and I seize the moment of distraction to make a swift exit. Out on the street, I slip into my Audi and start the ignition, aiming the car for Katerina’s apartment.
At least ten times during the drive, I consider turning around. Or dropping the scarf in a mailbox. Perhaps leaving it in front of her door. I could handle this at least a dozen other ways without actually seeing her because I know if I see her, I won’t be satisfied with simply giving her back the scarf. I’ll ask her questions, and she’ll become human to me. And then I will be royally fucked.
Regardless, the decision is made for me when I pull into the parking lot of the Shady Grove apartments. It’s even more of a dump than I anticipated, and I think I must have entered the address incorrectly somehow. But one glance at the picture confirms that I’m in the right place. The decrepit brick building squatting on fractured concrete looks more suited to a prison than a residence. Several scrawny children kick a sun-bleached ball around the front courtyard, eyeing me curiously as I get out and shut the door behind me. They look at my car, and then my clothing before they skitter off into one of the complexes. I can’t say that I blame them. If I saw me, I would run too.
I walk around the front and get a feel for the layout before I figure out Kat is in Building Two. Her apartment isn’t difficult to find. It’s on the ground level, and there’s a sad-looking lawn chair and a wilted plant just outside the front door. At least she tried to decorate the place, I guess.
I hesitate at the door, considering whether I should cross that threshold. I’ve already come this far, but it wouldn’t be hard to dump the scarf in the chair and leave, never to look back. I know that’s what I should do, but before I can force myself into action, a feminine voice startles me.
“What are you doing here?”
Turning, I find Katerina dressed in what appears to be a waitress uniform. She looks tired and nervous as her eyes drift to the scarf in my hands.
“Oh, thank God. I was looking everywhere for that.”
She holds out her palm to retrieve it, but I hesitate, my eyes drifting down the length of her body. She notices, and a flush creeps over the delicate skin of her throat. I swallow, and tension swells between us like a bomb ready to detonate at any moment. Christ, what is it about this girl that makes me forget what the fuck I’m even doing here?
“Did you just get home from work?” I ask to break the silence.
She nods. “Yeah, I wait tables over at the diner on Fifth. It’s nothing to write home about, but it pays the bills.”
It doesn’t look like it, but I don’t tell her so.
The apartment door creaks open, and another woman who looks older than Kat pokes her head out. “Kat? I thought that was you. Everything okay out here?”
“Hey, Rachel.” She waves at her friend. “I’m just talking to… uh…”
“Lev,” I fill in the blank.
“Right.” The blush on Kat’s face deepens. “Lev was just returning my scarf.”
“Okay.” Rachel eyes me with curiosity before she eases the door closed. “See you in a few.”
Kat nods, and the door shuts with an audible clunk. Silence lingers between us. I want to know what she’s thinking, but as it turns out, I don’t have to ask.
“I can’t believe I never even asked your name,” she blurts. “I’m so sorry if that came off as rude. But you just surprised me being here. How did you even find me, anyway?”
“Your driver’s license,” I remind her. “I went through your bag last night and confiscated the fake ID, remember?”
“Right.” She rocks back on her heels. “And then you remembered my address and drove all the way over here to bring my scarf back?”
It sounds even creepier when she says it.
“I also thought you could use a meal,” I offer lamely. “I wasn’t in the best mood this morning, and I wanted to make up for it.”
“Are you asking me to dinner?” Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“Are you accepting?” A smile tugs at my lips, but I resist.
“Dinner would be nice, actually,” she says. “I’m starving. Could you just give me two minutes to change?”
“Take your time.” I plant myself in the rusty lawn chair. “I’ll just be out here enjoying the view.”
3
Kat
I’m not sure pink is still my favorite color, but I’m so happy Lev brought the scarf back. It’s worn, the yarn coming apart in places, but I don’t care. When I wear it, I feel safe.
“He’s cute,” Rachel says, waggling her eyebrows.
I pass her and head to my bedroom, trying to suppress my excitement. “I guess.”
She follows me in. “You guess? I saw how you were looking at him. And how he was looking at you.”
I can’t help but smile when I turn to her again as I pull my uniform over my head.
“It’s not like that. He’s just being nice.” I get a whiff of fried onion rings from the diner. It’s probably in my hair too.
“Nice. Mm-hmm. Thought you said you spent the night at Nina’s.”
“Think I have time for a quick shower?”
“I can go keep him company if you like.” She winks.
“Don’t you dare.” I hurry into our shared bathroom and push the curtain back to start the water. It always takes a few minutes to warm up.
“Tell me,” she says, perching on the closed toilet seat as I rummage in my drawer for a razor.
“He just helped me last night. Nina had gotten me a little something special for my birthday, but well, it didn’t go as planned.”
Watching her face when I say it, I see it change as she grows more serious, and I instantly regret having told her that part.
“Kat—”
“It wasn’t a big deal.” I’m not in the mood for a lecture right now. “Everything turned out fine.”
Stripping off my underwear, I step under the warm flow. I’m quick, shampooing once and working conditioner into my hair before shaving my legs. I didn’t have time to shower before my shift at the diner, and between last night’s escapades and today’s various food smells, I stink.
Rachel pushes the curtain open just enough to peer inside.
“Hey, this is serious. You have to be careful. You can’t just buy something at a nightclub and expect to get what you think you’re paying for. There are really bad people out there, Kat, and they will take advantage of you when you aren’t in control of yourself.”
“I know. It was stupid, but it turned out fine.” Rachel is a recovering addict and doesn’t have much patience for anything like this. “I didn’t even like it if it makes any difference,” I try, rinsing the conditioner out of my hair, forgetting to comb it out first in my hurry.
“Do you remember everything, then? The whole night?”
I shake my head even though I know I should lie and tell her I do.
She hands me a towel, and I wrap it around myself. She takes my hands, and I look at her.
“Be careful, Kat. It’s not just the drugs. I mean, you don’t even know this guy. Do you even know what happened after you passed out?”
I pull away. “Look, if he’d done anything, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t bother to drive all the way over here to bring me my scarf. And besides, I’d know if something like that happened.”
“Not necessarily.” She leans against the doorframe with her arms folded across her chest. She looks so much older than twenty-five, and although I don’t know her whole story, I know enough.
I turn my attention to the meager offerings in my closet and decide on a pair of jeans and a tight black long-sleeved T-shirt.
“Kat—”
“I’m not planning on doing it again, Rach. I promise.” I hug her.
“Good. Because you got lucky once. That doesn’t tend to repeat.” She walks away, and I hate feeling as though I’ve disappointed her.
I run a wide-tooth comb through my hair, wincing when it catches on the tangles. I don’t have time to dry it, so I squeeze as much moisture out of it as possible and tie it into a high ponytail, leaving a strand out on the right side of my face. He’s already seen my arm. I don’t need him to see the gash on my temple too.
After I apply mascara and lip gloss, I rummage through my jackets for a leather one. Well, it’s pleather, but at least nothing had to die for it. Not that I’m vegan. I just don’t have money to spend on luxuries.
I sit on the edge of the bed and consider the boots I wore last night. They’re lying discarded in a corner of the room, but I can’t imagine squeezing my feet into those after a nine-hour shift at the diner, so I reach for my worn and very comfortable Chucks and slide them on.
One final glance in the mirror and I wonder if he’s expecting me to look like I did last night. I don’t. I never look that way, actually.
I remember what he said about my hair. I don’t remember all the details, but some things I don’t think I’ll ever forget. At least I hope not to. He asked me why I dyed it when my natural color was so pretty. I’m a redhead, that golden-red that looks more girl-next-door than anything else. It’s the same color as my mom’s had been. But unlike her, I don’t have too many freckles. Just three tiny ones scaling my right cheekbone in a neat little row and one on the very tip of my nose.
“You look great,” Rachel says, coming back into the room.
I smile.
“Here.” She holds out a small canister of what I know is pepper spray. “In case.”
I sigh. Sometimes she’s too much. “I don’t need that, Rachel. I’ll be fine.”
“Just take it. It’ll make me feel better.”
I’ve been renting my room from Rachel for just under a year, and in all that time, I’ve never seen her go out on a date or bring anyone home.
“Fine.” I take the canister. “But I won’t need it.”
“I hope you don’t.”
“See you.”
I tuck the pepper spray into my purse, do a quick count of my cash—tips from today—and tuck my phone into my pocket. Picking up the scarf Lev returned, I head through the apartment to the front door and realize I’m nervous. I haven’t been nervous, not like this, not that good kind of nervous, in a very long time.
I open the door and step out into the early evening. The fall air is crisp. He’s watching the sunset, and I take a moment too. It’s beautiful.
Lev stands up. He looks me over, and I’m hyper-aware of how I look. And of how I don’t look like I did last night.
“I didn’t want to leave you sitting here while I dried my hair or put on makeup.”
