Page 3 of Vows of Blood
Across the street and on the corner is what used to be a pizzeria. Now it’s just a building with the windows boarded up and a sign nailed to the front that saysFOR LEASE. It’s an eyesore and I’m sure the neighborhood is up in arms about its still being there, but so far, nothing’s been done about it.
I’m dragging the waiter by the hand toward it. It’s the perfect place to have a smoke and be away from the prying eyes of the neighborhoodandmy father. If only for a little while.
We get to the alley next to the building and I pull out my pack of cigarettes. He reaches in his jacket pocket and pulls out hislighter, then he offers me a light. I lean in, cigarette in my mouth, and let the flames singe the edge.
I smile as I lean back against the brick wall, taking a drag. “What’s your name?” I ask him.
He lights his own cigarette and says, “Mike. My friends call me Mickey.”
“Like the mouse?” I joke.
He laughs. “Yeah.” But it’s not a real laugh. He’s just being polite. “So, you’re Izzy Pecora, right?”
He already knows my name. That could be a good or a bad thing. “Yeah. I guess you’ve heard of me.”
“Everybody knows you. Word on the block is that you know how to party.”
Alarms are going off in my mind. I take another drag, playing it cool. “I know how to have a good time,” I say. “I mean, Fortune’s been trying to catch up to New York City for years now. I just happen to know where all the good clubs are.”
He nods and his eyes darken. “Let’s cut the small talk. I know all about you and how you like to get down. Word around town is you suck a mean dick.”
Oh, great. I really should learn to trust my instincts more. I put out my cigarette, stomping it out on the ground. “I’d better be getting back.” I turn to walk away and he grabs my arm, yanking me back.
“Hey!” I shout. “Let me g—” My words are cut off as he slams me against the wall. All the air rushes out of my lungs as he presseshimself against me and starts kissing my neck. I push against his shoulders, but he’s got all his weight on me. I can’t budge him.
“Getoff me!” I growl. He stops kissing me long enough to slap me across the face.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he says. He starts grabbing at my skirt, pulling it up. I slap him back, balling my fists and punching him in the head. He winces a little but keeps going, grabbing at my panties.
I start pulling his hair, grabbing tufts of it and yanking his head back. He hollers and grabs my wrist, twisting his head so that his greasy hair slips out of my fingers. He goes to hit me again, bringing his fist up. I wince…
But everything’s stopped. I open my eyes just in time to see a fist come out of nowhere and crack him across the jaw, sending him stumbling to the other side of the alley, hitting the wall. My savior stands over him for a second as he struggles to stand.
“Get up,” I hear him say.
I watch as Mickey stands on wobbly feet just to be punched again. This time, he’s lifted off his feet and thrown back into the wall. He’s punched in the face over and over and over again until he slides down the wall, his bloodied face unrecognizable.
And then my savior turns to me and I’m looking into Alexei Mechnikov’s stark blue eyes. He’s breathing hard and his chest rises and falls in a rhythmic pattern.
“Your sister’s looking for you,” he says.
I step away from him. His fists are dripping with blood and the muscles in his arms are bulging. Christ, he looks like a fucking monster.
I turn and run back to my father’s house.
2
ALEXEI
“There you are… What did you do?”
I’m sitting at the bar, the worst of the two bruised fists in a glass of ice as I rub the bridge of my nose. I’ve been nursing a headache since we showed up to this place. Pavel’s voice isn’t helping it, either. I look up at him as he stands there, staring at my hand in ice.
“I needed to vent,” I tell him.
“With your fists?” He leans into me and says in Russian, “Father is going to have your hide. Who did you beat up?”
“No one important,” I respond, also in Russian. “Don’t worry. This shit alliance hasn’t been tainted.”
