Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
The men’s room door was ajar.
I had a distinct memory of closing it when I’d been wiping off the doorknob.
I hadn’t cleaned the bathrooms after closing since I’d just finished cleaning them when the hall had still been open.
Could someone have been trapped inside?
But if so, why didn’t they show themselves sooner? I’d been working for hours. They had to have heard me.
Could they have been passed out?
Most people ended up at the pool hall before, and often after, a trip to the pub. Had they stumbled in after I cleaned, and just blacked out? Then woken up freaked out and ran?
I didn’t know if this was something that I should call the cops over. I mean, I had no proof.
Or maybe I should tell Konstantin and Mikhail?
But was a suspicion enough reason to call them? When Irina made it clear they had an important meeting?
Maybe it could wait until the next day.
Especially when I wasn’t sure.
The tight sensation in my chest and throat didn’t ease, though, until I finished polishing the floor, gathered my things, and turned off the lights.
I had the back door open when I heard more noise at the front of the building.
This time, though, it wasn’t just a suspicion.
The front door opened, closed, then footsteps moved across my clean floor.
More so than that, though, my imagination could never conjure up the male voices. Nor the insanity of what they were saying.
“Fucking waste of time,” Mikhail griped, tossing something that landed with a thud on the desk. “What good is having fucking captains if they don’t know what the fuck is going on either?”
A captain?
What the hell was a captain?
Konstantin’s voice was further away, interrupted with a clink of glass as he—I imagined—poured drinks.
“To be fair, their jobs are to keep an eye on the warriors. This is on us.”
Warriors?
What the hell were they talking about?
Some kind of game, maybe?
Though nothing about the Novikoff brothers said they were the types to play video games.
I needed to either announce my presence or get the hell out of there. No one liked being overheard when they thought they were alone.
“All I know is when we find the sonofabitch who is stealing from us, I’m going to enjoy stringing them up and slicing off their hands.”
My belly flipped.
My blood went cold.
Because that didn’t sound like hyperbole, like some silly made-up fantasy. Can you believe he cheated on me? I want to kill him.
No.
Mikhail sounded deadly serious.
“Examples have to be made,” Konstantin agreed. “No one can steal from us.”
My saliva felt acidic. It burned all the way down when I swallowed.
I had to get the hell out of there.
Being an eavesdropper was bad enough. Overhearing actual plans to maim someone?
That seemed like a surefire way to find myself strung up and missing limbs too. Or my tongue.
I eased out the back door.
Then, inch by inch, with my heart in a vice grip, I slid it closed before releasing the knob so the lock engaged.
Then I ran.
Through the alley of the pub, I avoided the eyes of the dishwashers who were having a smoke break, the skunky scent of weed filling the air, making it even harder for me to draw a proper breath. Even as a part of me wondered if I should go back and ask to take a hit to ease my anxiety.
Because… what the actual hell was that?
Who the hell did I work for?
I regretted my urge to get more exercise by walking to work as paranoia had me glancing back over my shoulder over and over again as I made my way down the main street. Konstantin or Mikhail could walk out of the pool hall at any moment.
What would they do if they saw me?
Would they assume I’d been coming from work? That I’d heard what they said?
The fears proved unfounded, though, as I turned down the road to my home without any men running after me.
Little by little, the tightness in my chest decreased.
Until, of course, I got to my door and had another thought.
What about the cameras?
What if they’d seen me in the back, listening?
“I’m so happy to see you,” I greeted Trix as she ran up to the door. “You’d protect me from the scary Russian guys, wouldn’t you?” I asked her as she pranced alongside me to the back door. “No one is cutting off my hands when you’re around, right?”
Trix snorted.
“That’s right,” I agreed, watching her sniff around the yard. “Oh, of course,” I grumbled.
The renovation sounds had been nonexistent when I’d gotten home. Almost as if waiting for me, the damn hammering started up again.
“What am I gonna do, girl?” I asked my dog as she came back in to get a late-night dinner with me. She had cooked chicken, rice, veggies, liver, and pumpkin. I had two slices of cheese, a handful of grapes, and a mini sleeve of soda crackers.