Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Niko

Unbeknownst to my brothers, I spent the better part of the morning watching, via our closed-circuit camera feed, the cocktail lounge where Charleigh works. The woman is a beauty by any measure, but with her hair and makeup done, she could rival a movie star. Her cocktail waitress outfit, designed to turn the guests on and get them thinking of ways they might like to spend their big bucks with us, is cute as hell on her, though I’m sure she hates it.

But that’s okay.

She’ll get used to it.

On her first shift, she was a little wobbly in her heels, but after a few days in the lounge, she’s pretty steady now, and if I’m not mistaken, has even started to shake her ass a bit when she walks. The lacy tops of her thigh-highs are just visible under her short, swingy skirt, and her bustier gives her just enough cleavage to tempt any man.

Especially me.

I don’t meet many girl-next-door types, which Charleigh personifies flawlessly. Seeing her transformation has been like watching a caterpillar turn into a butterfly.

Not that there is anything wrong with the caterpillar.

There’s a reason why every guy fantasizes about the girl next door. She’s usually the first girl any boy knows, aside from sisters and cousins. And even though our tastes may change as we get older, we nearly all still have a thing for the unassuming, natural cutie who was once the object of our frequent fantasies. Hell, I jerked off so much at that age I was sure my dick would fall off. At least that’s what they told us at the Catholic school we attended until Vadik’s fighting got us kicked out.

So yeah, I might have a little boyhood crush on our new girl Charleigh. But I have it under control. It won’t impact the way we do anything around here. Besides, I’m not alone. Vadik looks at her as if he’s about to drop to one knee and freaking propose, and Kir can’t take his eyes off her because she resembles Clara, the woman he lost.

As it turns out, we three are not alone in finding Charleigh attractive. A couple of the old pervs who frequent the club haven’t been able to keep their hands to themselves during her shifts. That’s to be expected, and is usually tolerated. Like we always say, we want to get the bastards thinking with their little heads. That’s when they start spending real money. Their grab-ass antics are usually pretty harmless. The only time I’ve ever had to step in and get involved was with a particularly handsy guest who had way too much to drink. Turned out he was going through a bad divorce, and the waitress reminded him of his soon-to-be ex. He pushed her to the ground and straddled her, ready to throw a closed-fist punch until the bartender tackled him.

Needless to say, the man was never permitted back here. He’ll never throw a punch again, and in fact, he won’t write, shave, hold a fork, or wipe his ass with his right hand, either.

That’s how serious we are about the few rules we have. And punching out a waitress is against the fucking rules.

When Charleigh finishes today’s three-hour shift, I decide to stretch my legs and say hello. But before I do, I turn to the camera in the hallway just outside the lounge and see her stop on her way out. I turn on the sound.

It takes me seconds to realize she’s speaking with Dimitri Yegorov, and from the look of it, he’s traveling with his usual posse of flatterers.

“Ah, here is a new girl. I do not know you,” his voice croons through the tinny sound system. He lifts Charleigh’s hand and brings it to his lips.

“What is your name, beautiful?” he asks, still holding her hand.

She sniffles. If Dominika sees that, she’ll be all over her. She hates girls who cry. “Um, my name is Charleigh.”

Dimitri laughs. “Interesting name for a woman. But Americans do things different from us Russians, right, boys?”

His hangers-on nod and express their agreement with him like he said something brilliant.

I doubt they ever do otherwise. They wouldn’t dare. He’s bad news.

And we don’t like him.

In fact, we prefer he stay as far away from our club as possible, but the Pakhan feels it’s better for the region if we permit him and his friends. So, Dimitri shows up here as often as possible, not only because our club is one-of-a-kind, but also to rub our faces in the fact that he can come and go as he pleases.

As inconceivable as it is, we have a lifelong connection to this guy. We played together as children and our families spent holidays and vacations together. Our fathers founded this club, my Papa and his. One might think that since our fathers are now gone, we’d take up where they left off and be the best of business partners. But no. Not by a longshot.

Dimitri’s dad, when he passed, left my dad as sole owner. The club became one hundred percent his, and now that Papa’s gone, it belongs to my brothers and me. Dimitri has his own opinions about how and why this happened, but the facts are incontestable. Mr. Yegorov left the club to my dad. Not his son. It’s that simple, and Dimitri has been angry about it for years. He feels he still owns an interest in it because it was, in his mind, somehow wrested away from his papa.

Which is part of the reason my brothers and I suspect he’s behind the house fire that killed our parents.

* * *

Niko

When I think about it, and how Dimitri has the nerve to show his ugly face as often as he does around here, my fingers itch to wrap themselves around his neck.

And squeeze.

So, I don’t think about it too much. Unless it’s being rubbed in my face, like right now.

I blow up the video on my monitor so I can see exactly what he’s up to, holding Charleigh’s hand and pulling her closer. I don’t like it. I don’t like that he’s touching her. I don’t like that he is even looking at her.

“My poor girl,” he croons like he’s some sort of gentleman. “Why are you sad? Are they not treating you well here?” He looks around at his buddies, who nod like the toadies they are.

“I… I am adjusting. I’ll be fine, really,” Charleigh insists, attempting to back away from him.

The girl has good instincts, I’ll give her that.

“Where do you come from, child?” he asks, as if he’s really interested.

He hands her his handkerchief and she blows her nose, oblivious to how he’s eating her up with his eyes.

While she explains she’s local and talks about her dad’s shop, the whole time Dimitri is licking his chops, most likely trying to figure out when he can get into her pants. If there’s anyone with a fetish for new blood, it’s him.

But he will never get his hands on Charleigh.

That’s when I stop watching the camera feed and hustle down the hall to interrupt their little rendezvous.

“Dimitri!” I say as if I’m happy to see him.

Fucker knows I hate him. But inside the club, I pretend otherwise. At least, I try to.

I clap him on the back, a little harder than I would anybody else. Just to be a dick, of course, and as I do, he inches closer to the oblivious Charleigh, who is trying her hardest to smile in a situation she doesn’t know how to handle.

“Niko, my friend,” Dimitri booms. His minions follow his lead, smiling broadly with their hands clasped in front of them.

I don’t know how he can stand being followed around by a bunch of suck-ups. But right now, I want him the fuck away from Charleigh.

I shake his extended hand because, what choice do I have, making a mental note to run to the men’s room as soon as I’m free to scrub off his slime.

As if on cue, Dimitri throws an arm around Charleigh’s shoulders to see how I react. I know exactly what he’s doing, and he knows I know, and yet we must still have this fucking standoff.

It’s like a fight you get into as a kid. Circling, sizing each other up, waiting for someone to throw the first punch. Except that as adults, we don’t throw actual punches. We do shit like use veiled threats and draw firearms.

Some things don’t change. Much.

Charleigh looks at me, her eyes wide. I have no doubt she picked up on the tension between Dimitri and me. And now she’s looking to me for answers. What to do next. What is expected of her?

I don’t blame her. He’s not only pulled her so close she can’t move, but with his free hand he’s grabbed her chin and pulled her head towards him. It looks uncomfortable. It’s uncomfortable to watch.

And I’m getting pissed. Asshole is lucky my brothers are not here. They have much shorter fuses than I do.

“My friend,” Dimitri starts to say while Charleigh looks at me with begging eyes, “in the spirit of goodwill, you know, as a gesture, so to speak, you Alekseevs will give me this lovely lady for the night. Okay Niko?”

Charleigh’s eyes bulge and her one arm that is not pinned by Dimitri starts to flap. She’s reaching for me.

But I don’t move. This will be resolved with words.

Until it can’t.

“Dimitri, there’s no way in hell you will ever spend a minute of time with this woman,” I say through a huge, fake-ass smile.

His only reaction is a slight twitch of his left eye. “Oh, Niko. You know it’s time for us to become… good friends. No more rivalry. Think how much the Pakhan will like that.”

Yes, the Pakhan wants peace between us. For old insults to be set aside. But he’s a reasonable man and does not expect peace at any cost. Even if he did, Dimitri would still never get his fucking hands on Charleigh.

In fact, his arm around her is starting to bug me. Really bad.

I reach for her free arm, the one that’s flailing toward me, and yank her so fast she spins out of Dimitri’s arm and right into mine. In spite of herself, she squeals from the fast move, and for a moment I can imagine I know what she sounds like when she’s happy.

Would that I could hear that again…

I not only pull Charleigh into the crook of my arm, but to further secure herself, she wraps her arms around me, gripping my suit jacket in tight fists as if really anchoring herself.

Her hair smells nice. Recently washed, I guess. Her arms are thin but solid and she has me in quite the grip. I pull her tighter. I could encircle her with both arms, but I know to keep one free when dealing with a dick like Dimitri. You never know what a scumbag like him might try.

One of the first things I learned. Keep your shooting hand free.

I like having Charleigh cling to me, especially in front of this asshole. She feels good, nestled against me. Like she belongs. Like she fits. I slowly turn, directing her down the hall and toward my office, our backs fully turned on Dimitri as a big fuck you.

This is going to piss him off, which I am immensely enjoying.

“Niko,” he calls after me. I debate ignoring him, but he is a member, and besides, it’s so much fun to patronize him.

Charleigh and I turn. “Yes, Dimitri?” I ask with a huge smile.

He just smiles back. Without saying a word.