“Why are you wearing this?” he asked sternly.
“I just wanted to—” It wasn’t my day to finish sentences because his finger curled underneath it and painfully ripped it off, leaving a burn I immediately tried to grasp, but he caught me by the wrist and pressed my hand against the wall before I could.
“If I want you in a collar, I’ll put one on you myself,” he said quietly.
I swallowed, my throat tight, yet so guiltily intrigued with that hungry look in his eyes. The man didn’t blink.
“Don’t do anything you see Ana do. Understood?”
I nodded.
The elevator light flickered, and some mechanism struggled above us, but it didn’t move.
“There was a terrible technical problem,” Vitali said, “and the elevator got stuck. A real shame. I’ve got all night, Katya.”
“What do you want?” I asked, my eyes on the spot where his sweater allowed me to see just a glimpse of the tattoo I wouldn’t have otherwise noticed.
“I want you to keep showing up to work. I want you to tell Mama you’re still getting paid. And I want you to put these,” he reached inside his coat and produced two tightly packed stacks of bills, “somewhere safe, and not the bank. Repeat it so I know you understand.”
“Not the bank.”
“Kotik, you’re setting a bare hand against a hot stove,” he warned, and his tone sent an unwelcome warmth coursingthrough me. I became too aware of the tight leather pants rubbing between my thighs.
“I show up to work,” I began slowly, as if he were restraining my breathing, because at that moment his gaze was absolutely stealing my air, “and I tell Mama I’m still getting paid. I put those somewhere safe, and not the bank.”
He grinned in approval. “Good girl.” And then guided my wrist so that the stacks of dollars rested in between my hands. “Because it’s your money, and you will do with it as you please. Say it.”
“It’s my money, and I will do with it as I please…”
He leaned back and took hold of the switchblade, snapping it out of the slot. The elevator whined and clicked, then shook and began moving again.
“I like that outfit, Katya,” he said as I exited the elevator, “but I prefer you in a dress.”
I gave him a dishonest smile and waited until he left me on my landing and his elevator was in motion before I doubled over and retched, the stacks of money clenched tightly against my chest.
* * *
About Russia
pirogi- hand pies usually filled with meat, potatoes, or cabbage (try them if you get the chance!)
About the dollar:although Russia’sofficial currency is the ruble, during the 1990s there was a HUGE financial crisis (inflation in 1992 was over 2,500%) where the ruble became worthless. Many people bought dollars in hope of preserving their savings and they were widely accepted in restaurants and stores. These did not go in the bank as Russia completely lost its faith in the banking system following its partial collapse.
9
The Hungry Dog
Vitali called once in the next week, and the conversation was brief. I listened to the background of honking vehicles on his end as he checked up on me. ‘Are you warm? Are you eating? How is Mama’s leg?’
‘Is Maxim getting good grades?’
It was light enough that Mama’s nosy ears caught nothing of importance. She’d been vigorously scrubbing the tub just around the corner from the kitchen where we kept the phone. I was surprised she hadn’t worn a hole through the steel, because she spent that whole time on a single spot.
I wasn’t enthusiastic about the conversation at first, but then he made me laugh, and I began thinking that maybe I was being a bit dramatic in my remembering of our last date. He was charming, I’d give him that, but he knew he was charming and that made every word dangerous.
When Mama got tired of eavesdropping and went to discipline Maxim about bedtime, I slid down the wall, hugging my knees with the receiver wedged against my shoulder.
“Mama left,” I said quietly, and the pleased grunt I received was as good as being thrown a parade.
