“No. Listen to me. The last time. One last thing, because it affects you directly.” He took a deep breath, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a flask. I’d never seen Misha drink and drive. “He said a month was long enough.”
“What?”
“He said a month was long enough,” Misha repeated. “He got tired of waiting for you to call, so he did what he had to, to get you to call.”
I leaned forward, grabbing onto the back of the passenger seat. “What are you talking about?”
“You want to know how long he’s known you, Katya? Ask Sergei when he first sent Vitali to meet with Moscow. There were a few girls at the Manhattan Club when we entered, but they were just leaving. I remember commenting that the blond one had a hell of an ass, but there are lots of asses, and asses are forgettable, and I could never pick her out of a crowd. He looked, but it wasn’t the blond he noticed. He liked the brunette—about your build, your height. But see, Vitali doesn’t forget asses like I do. That wastwo years ago, Katya. I didn’t know who the hell you were for a long time; we just joked about some girl because he’s nuts, and it wouldn’t be the first time. And when I connected the dots on you—two years. Do you understand that?”
I didn’t. I didn’t understand anything that happened. I didn’tunderstand when the back door of the club opened, and two men came hauling something out. I didn’t understand when they tied it onto a rope connected to the trunk.
Vitali got in beside me, polished like he was at the beginning of the night—less his jacket. He rested an arm around me. All leather and imported cologne. I twisted to get a better look at the thing behind us, but he took me by the chin and gently guided me back down. His mouth tasted like the kind of glamorous sex they have in the movies, and the kiss was slow and tender. He controlled the tilt of my head, and his hands were warm, so warm. When we got on our way, he slid his fingers onto my thigh, careful not to touch the bruising.
“Go through the center of town,” he told Misha without looking away from me.
“Vitali, you can’t drag that thing through the center of town.”
Vitali placed a cigarette between his lips. The lighter clicked. “Nobody is going to call the police on a Mercedes S-Class. Take him through the center of town.”
I didn’t look back for the rest of the ride.
When we stopped, very little remained of Clipboard.
Most of him stuck to the ice on the drive.
“Happy birthday, Kotik.”
* * *
About Russia:
Batuyshka– Father/priest
Sergiev Posad– a Russian city that is known to be a large religious center
31
Vitali:Incomplete
It was harder than I thought.
I planned everything out, and usually my plans go smoothly. Even small snags can be dealt with as they come.
But Katya is an enigma.
It becomes this back and forth with her that I can’t plan for—I can’t get ready because I can’t predict how she’ll react. I can’t practice it.
But each day with her is easier. Like us together is the practice, and we are both getting better. I don’t know if I like that, because it doesn’t feel like I have control and I don’t like feeling that way. It’s dangerous for everyone involved.
She saw my back—my chest—my throat.
I wasn’t ready, but I didn’t go very far to make sure it wouldn’t happen, and there has to be a lesson in that.
It’s like I’m watching myself on TV, and the show is too happy to be real life.
They’d never cast someone like Sergei; never bring in the Makarov props. The soundtrack would be made of laughter,and the music they put on would tell you how to feel, so you didn’t have to figure it out for yourself.
I go through the motions, and sometimes I forget myself and start to believe I’m there with her, in her little world.
