“Nikolai?” Mikky looks a little surprised at first, then he shakes his head. “You know, I’ve always had a bad feeling about him. He comes in here all the time. Haggles with the girls about their money. He’s a real worm, that guy.”
“Yeah. You seen him?”
Mikky nods to the neon VIP sign right behind him. “I’ve seen him, alright. He’s in there. Probably getting his dick sucked.”
“Thanks,” Pavel says. “We’ll be quick.”
We make our way toward the direction of the VIP area in the back of the room. The glass door under the sign is blocked by another bouncer, but the second he sees us, he steps aside without a word. I hear him say, “Evening, Mr. Mechnikov” under the thump of the music around us.
The door closes behind us and we’re standing in a hallway, the loud music muffled. Glass doors line both sides and we catch the reflection of low, pink and blue lighting from within the rooms.We pass the first couple of rooms and spot a party in one of them, three or four men with a stripper on each lap. Pavel shakes his head.
“You should have let me bring my gun,” he says. “What if he’s not alone?”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I reply. “Besides, if you shoot him, do you want to be the one to explain to Father?”
Our father. The man who used to beat men’s faces to hamburger in underground rings for fun. I don’t say that, but I can tell Pavel is having the same thought. His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t give me any response.
“Just keep your cool and things will work out fine,” I say to him. “Remember, we’re only here for the money he owes.”
We reach the room at the very end and to the right. I see Kozlov sitting on the couch, smiling up at a stripper who’s straddling him. She’s not wearing anything except a G-string and she’s got a tiger tattoo on her left shoulder blade. Kozlov looks drunk as shit. His greasy dark hair has fallen into his leathery face and he’s got his big sausage hands on her ass as he stares open-mouthed and blearily at her tits hovering over his face.
I get my brother’s attention with a nudge in the shoulder and the moment he sees him, he steps forward, opening the door.
As soon as the door opens, the stripper turns and sees us. Her eyes widen a little and she freezes like a deer in headlights.
“Hey, this is a private session,” Kozlov says. “Didn’t you see the VIP on the door?”
I can see Pavel is this close to grabbing the girl and throwing her off just to get to him, so I make eye contact with her and say, “Get out of here.”
It’s like the sound of my voice triggers her flight response because she immediately gets off Kozlov’s lap, grabs her clothes, and rushes out of the room.
As soon as she leaves, Kozlov sits up and the recognition hits as Pavel steps into the pink and blue track lighting. “Pavel,” he says with a nervous laugh. “I–I was just about to call you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.” The alcohol is slurring his words and marring his already nearly unintelligible accent. “I figured you must have heard about my recent windfall. I’m just here to celebrate, you know?”
Pavel crossed his arms, his blue eyes alight with the anticipation of violence. “Windfall, huh? I haven’t heard about that. Maybe you should tell me about it.”
“Well, I hit it big on the Garrett/Kingston fight yesterday.”
“Did you? For how much?”
He shrugs slightly. “Just a few grand. Nothing too crazy. But I was gonna call you because I wanted to work out a payment arrangement. I figured since your father was kind enough to help me out when I needed it, the least I could do was to start paying you back.”
Pavel snickers and I edge toward the door to block his way out. “‘The least you can do’? That’s funny. You make it sound like you’re doing me a favor.”
“N–no, that’s not what I meant. I just mean?—”
“The least you could do is pay what you promised to pay, with interest now since you’re a day late.”
“But Pavel, ten grand is a lot of money for a guy like me?—”
Pavel strikes him across the face with the back of his hand, slapping him hard enough to send him face-first into the couch. “You tell me you don’t have the money while you’re sitting in a strip club waiting to get your dick sucked?” He grabs him by the collar, dragging him up to his feet and throwing him against the wall. “Do you think my father is an idiot? You disrespectful?—”
Kozlov headbutts him. His forehead connects with a sickening smack and Pavel stumbles backward, releasing him. I step in and grab him, pinning him to the wall with an arm across his throat. He struggles under my weight, gagging and clawing at my arm.
“Alexei,” Pavel says, getting to his feet. “Stop it. I’ve got him.”
