Today will be day five in a row of working atPete’s. George says I’m banned from working more than that many days straight without a break, no matter how busy the place gets. For a Grumpy Gus, he’s really protective of his employees. I’m thankful fate led me to his diner when I was most desperate for work. Once I make it through today, I’ll sleep as long as I possibly can tomorrow then check out nearby thrift stores for more clothes and maybe, some shoes that fit. If tips keep coming in the way they have these last few days, I can definitely afford to get some necessary things.
I finish emptying my bladder and use a wet wipe to clean off. It’s early enough I should still have time to use more of the flushable wipes I splurged on at the dollar store to give myself a sink bath at work before the first tables come in for breakfast. I tuck the package of wipes back into my backpack and neatly fold the used one to throw in the dumpster beside the office. Flushable or not, I’m not the sort to litter by just throwing it on the ground. Plus, it’s got pee on it. Gross. Definitely, one of the yuckiest parts of being unhoused is the struggle to get and stay clean.
The moment I step out of the bushes, it feels as if there are eyes on me. I check the camera, but it’s still pointing in the opposite direction. I look around as best I can, but I don’t see anyone loitering nearby. Motionless, I wait for any sound that would give away the position of someone spying on me.
Minutes pass, and there’s nothing. No sound, no movement.
Maybe, it’s paranoia of being found out and forced to give up my temporary home that’s making me anxious. Still, I find myself looking in windows as I walk by and taking every chance I can to nonchalantly check out my surroundings as I hurry toPete’s. The sensation doesn’t go away. Perhaps, it’s my imagination, but all through my shift it feels as if I’m being watched like an ant under a magnifying glass.
Chapter
Six
CHAPTER 6
Zinovy
Gleb’s phone dot moves with the girl as she ducks behind the bushes. I wait, and I watch. Where is he? Addicted to online porn and gambling apps the way I know he is, it’s unfathomable he could be anywhere without his cell. I wonder how he knows the girl who slipped from the storage bay. I wonder what the fuck she was doing inside it all night.
“Keep your eyes on the entire block of storage bays, especially C-17 until I get back. Message me if you see anyone going near it, especially that fuck Kuzmin. If you see him, follow him until I arrive. Am I clear?” My instructions offer no room for discussion, and the namelessshestyorkasent by my second-in-command, Sascha, nods obediently.
Directions given, I drop from the roof and leave him to it. I’ve got a girl to follow and answers to get. If Gleb thinks he can throw me off his scent by dropping this tiny slip of a female into my path, he’s got another think coming his way. Still, there’s something about the way she limps along, valiantly putting one foot in front of the other, though I can tell she’s in pain, actually sparks my interest. I keep to the shadows, following at a close enough distance she’s got no chance of losing me. Every block or so, she finds an excuse to check out her surroundings, and I can tell she feels my presence. My attention.
For miles, I follow her. Too many for such a tiny thing like her to walk alone in the dark. Whoever she is to Gleb, he’s a worthless fuck for allowing this. I think over what I know of him. He’s been with us for about two years since emigrating from Russia. His accent and command of the English language still rough enough to impair his ability to do much business for us. I don’t recall mention of a wife or daughter, and surely a lazy slob such as him couldn’t manage to ensnare such a delicate morsel for a mistress.
She’s a mystery, and that captivates me. The autumn dawn breaks slowly over the buildings ahead of her as she travels from the warehouse district whereDino-Mitestorage sits on the fringes into the business district. I trail behind her, stopping and ducking into doorways so she can’t catch me stalking her. Not once does she pull out a phone, though the tracking dot continues to move with her. Finally, after a limping walk that has me half convinced she might collapse at any moment, she throws her shoulders back and tosses long dark hair into a high ponytail.
Her footsteps become more confident, limp hidden away behind what I think must be a spine of steel. She marches a final block and tugs open the door to a cheesy diner,Pete’s Pastries,I’ve probably driven by a thousand times without bothering to see it. Her face turns to the street as she steps into the restaurant, the morning sun blazing across skin so pale it’s nearly translucent as it the light washes over her.
My first full glimpse of her beauty is enough to stall the breath from my lungs, and I stumble, nearly falling from the alcove I’m tucked into and revealing myself. I have no clue who this girl is.
Why she limps, why she’s got Gleb fucking Kuzmin’s cell phone, why she spent the night in a shitty storage lot garage. I know none of those answers. But I will. There’s no universe in existence where I fail in the mission just revealing itself. Yeah, yeah, I still need to find and eliminate Kuzmin to satisfy thePakhan. But now, I have a deeper calling. A more basic need.
The need to get the beauty from the diner under my hand and into my bed.
Urgency thrums hot and heavy through my blood, heating it and flooding me with adrenaline. I have never been moved this way by the mere sight of a pretty face. But hers isn’t simply pretty.
There’s a strength and resiliency in the set of her jaw that calls to me, drives me to be a strong guardian that stands between her and whatever challenges dare cross her path. Her lips form a bow so perfect my cock weeps precum as I envision of them stretching to accommodate my girth. Dark bruises shadowher eyes, and I can’t tell from this distance if its exhaustion or something more marring her perfect skin.
Fury burns through me. I need to know everything about her. I must.
The girl slips through the door, and I watch through the plate glass windows as she tosses her backpack beneath a counter and clocks in. This gives me enough to set Rurik to tracking down everything there is to know about her. Whatever reason she has for carrying Gleb’s phone is irrelevant. He is irrelevant to her from this moment on.
Me to Rurik: Need a favor. Employee list for Pete’s Pastries and backgrounds on all of them.
Rurik: The fuck am I? A dog fetching whatever you want? Find out yourself.
Me to Rurik: You’re the fuck who doesn’t want the boss man knowing about that little trip you took last week to spy on a certain caged birdie if you know what I’m saying. Tell me I’m wrong or tell me what I want to know. Soon.
Rurik: Give me fifteen minutes. Prick.
I choke back the laughter that wants to break free. Rurik may be a psychotic murder puppy, but he’s a predictable one. He thinks none of us know he’s sprung on the jailbird who landed on our radar after he beat the fuck out of one of our guys while behind bars. I guarantee if I know, thePakhanknows. But if Rurik wants to think his secret stays safe because he does this favor for me, I’ll let him suffer his own delusions.
After all, I’m recently sprung on someone I shouldn’t pay attention to myself. But unlike Rurik, I’m not planning to make any secret of things or wait once I get my birdie in hand. She might have felt me following her this morning, but I promise this: before long, she’ll be feeling a lot more of me.
Chapter
Seven
