The hospital visitto the man I beat up went as well as expected. Better than expected, actually, because nobody got shot and Mikhail had left by the time I arrived.
On the way back home, I picked up Chinese for everyone and a box of chocolates for Lovac, my driver, as a way of showing him I felt bad for making him bleed, even though he should’ve known better than to talk like that about a girl I showed clear interest in.
When I got home, Lovac accepted the chocolate and apologized for mentioning the girl’s pussy, stating he hadn’t known it would offend me “that much.” Now he knew, so it was all good.
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Anything new?” I asked.
“Ivana sent me to get some of the girl’s stuff. The Russians set up shop in her apartment.”
“Did you get her stuff?”
“Yeah.”
“And they let you leave with it?”
“Yeah.”
We walked into the kitchen, where seven men awaited, Ivana pacing back and forth. Our armory sat on the table. They stared at me, expecting orders. A glance outside told me nobody was at the pool. I didn’t have to ask where the girls were. Anticipating the worse, like Russians gunning down the house, Ivana sent the girls home.
Lovac took the bags of Chinese from my hands and put them on the bar, then took his food. Starving, I ripped open my container and stabbed an orange chicken with a chopstick while walking to my table. I sat and ate. “Where is my girl?” Thesingle possessive noun, when used on purpose, spoke more than a paragraph.
“Playing chess with my uncle,” Ivana said.
I snapped my head up, and, mouth full of chicken, I said, “What?” The chicken went down the wrong pipe, and I proceeded to choke, coughing and snorting. Tears in my eyes and shit, I beat my chest and took a drink of water from the glass Ivana handed me.
I cleared my throat. A chicken almost killed me. “Who let her in there?”
“Your father.”
“We have a chessboard in the house?” I asked.
Lovac put down his container. “She asked for hers from the apartment.”
“Huh.” A thought occurred to me. Chess was a game of strategy, moves calculated not only to protect the king, but to beat the opponent at the same time. It was a game of mental agility, and Dad played it well. It was a favorite of his. I’d need to watch one of their games, maybe even the one they were playing upstairs today.
That decided, I moved on to the Russians, who waited at her apartment, and let Lovac leave with her stuff. “Lovac, you gonna tell me what’s the message or keep me in suspense?”
“Mikhail said you’ll pay for this.”
“How?”
“How do you think?” Ivana said and crossed her arms over her chest. I stood and got two containers of the chicken before I headed upstairs.
“What the fuck, Nikola.” Ivana followed me.
“Grab your dinner and meet me in Dad’s room.”
She cursed in Serbian, which was never a good thing. We weren’t born there, hadn’t grown up there, but, when really pissed, we expressed ourselves clearly, all cursing directed at ourmothers. I entered Dad’s on quiet feet, noting Ivana disobeyed and didn’t come with me.
Propped up in his bed, a crease on his wrinkled forehead, he studied the board. On the other side of the bed, Lana sat with her back to the door. Minutes passed, and Ivana didn’t show, Lana completely ignored me, and Dad never looked up from the game. People were testing me today. Fine.
I dropped their food on the nightstand. Saying nothing, I sat in the nurse’s recliner. Lana got up and moved around the bedroom as if she was born here. Fascinated by how comfortable she was in my house, especially my Dad’s room where only a few people were allowed, I watched her every move.
She picked up an ottoman and carried it from the other side, then dropped it in front of my chair. I rested my feet on it. She got her food and sat on the ottoman beside my boots.
“Checkmate,” she said.
Dad slid me a gaze. “Underestimate her at your own peril.”
