Anatoly Medlov (15 page)

“Just look at what you’ve made me do,” she said under her breath of Anatoly. “Why did I even lose all of this weight if I can never hold your attention more than five damned minutes?” Tears formed at the side of her eyes. “Today it is the bimbo news reporter. Tomorrow it will be the Asian stripper. Day after that it’ll be an Australian model” She threw the food down on the counter. “I’m just sick of this shit.”

Leaning against the counter, she wiped her face and sighed. A
Weight Watcher’s
commercial came on the television across the room and Jennifer Hudson sang out in happy joy.

“Ugh!” Renee said, grabbing the remote. She quickly turned off the television. What was she doing? It had taken forever to get the weight off, and she was about to work towards putting it all back on for a man who barely noticed her if he wasn’t hungry or checking the numbers from his shop.

More and more, she was beginning to sympathize with what Royal had gone through with Dmitry. Her life must have been a living hell, trying to keep it together in a world like this. “I’m sorry, girl,” she said aloud to her dead friend. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you more. Lord knows that you must have needed it.”

“It freaks me out when you talk to yourself,” Anatoly said, leaning against the doorway watching her. He gave her a penetrating look.

Renee jumped. Turning around, she rolled her eyes. “Who told you to just come into my damned house?”

Anatoly’s hands were fisted inside of his pants pockets. He gave a clever grin. “You do it to me all the time. I never make a fuss.”

“Well, I don’t spy on you,” she said, wiping her face.

“You sure about that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Anatoly walked over the table and grabbed a napkin from the porcelain holder. He passed it to her and raised his brow. He had only ever seen her cry over Royal, but he knew that today there was something else. He worried that it was guilt – possibly the guilt of being a snitch. The thought pained him. Still, he continued, “You know that I don’t like beating around the bush.”

“Yeah, so?” she said, trying to pull herself together.

“So, have you been talking to the police about me, about my family?”

Renee shook her head in sheer disbelief. “You better be kidding, Ana.” Her nose flared in anger.

“I’m not.” He walked up to her. Face-to-face they stood. He looked down at her and clenched his jaw. “I need to see your face when you say it. Have you spoken to police about me at all?” he asked calmly. His gaze was cold and lethal.

She put her hand on her hip. “Yes,” she said as her full mouth twitched. “Right after Royal’s death, I was interrogated by five different government agencies. Then I was audited by the IRS. I’ve been followed on countless occasions. Since then, I’m pretty sure my phones have been tapped, too. Today, I was asked to lunch by a cop who used to be mfont>
good gay
friend. You remember all this don’t you? I sure as hell hope you do considering it was your family’s fault.” She didn’t blink. Fury clouded her eyes. “But if I recall, and I would, I haven’t gone to the police with anything,” she said with a frown. “Probably because I don’t
know
anything.”

Anatoly could see in her face that she wasn’t lying, and the knowledge of that fact gave him complete relief. He tried to explain. “Someone’s talking. I had to be sure it wasn’t you.”

“How can you see me every damned day – no- how can I come to your house, fix your dinner, console you, confide in you and then turn you in for shit I don’t even know about? I can’t believe you. I thought you knew me well enough to not have to ask.” Tears fell down her cheeks. Her eyes reddened.

He tried to wipe the tears away, but she pushed away his hand.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said reluctantly.

“Bullshit.” She moved out of his way. Pointing her finger at him, she shook her head again. Her long black hair fell over her shoulders. “Bullshit, Ana. You’ve gotten so lost in this, you don’t know which way is up anymore.”

“And you’re so much better?” he protested with a frown. “Look where you work. Look where you live. Look at your friends. You’re just a hypocritical as the rest of world.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she said, shaking her head. “But I know when to stop.” She looked down at the ground, praying for strength. Finally, when she had her bearing and she was sure of her decision, she straightened up and spoke. “I quit.”

Anatoly looked over at her quickly. “Now, you’re just overreacting.”

She walked up to him and pulled his beautiful face into her hands. Quietly, she nodded. “I. Quit. I’m giving you my two-week notice now.” She tried to stop the tears, but they gushed freely from her eyes. “I’m tired of being...not enough.”

“
Enough
for what?” he asked in a near whisper. He searched her face, realizing in that moment, just how beautiful she really was.

“Enough for you,” she said, letting his face go. She shivered. “I’m done playing this game. I’m too good for this shit. So, I quit. I’m going back to Atlanta. I’ll find a job there.”

“Give yourself sometime to think about this,” he said, reaching out for her.

She stepped back. “There is nothing to think about. What happens if one day, I can’t convince you that I’m not the bad guy? Huh? What happens then?”

“I would never hurt you.” His eyes did not meet hers.

She laughed. “I know. You’d send Vasily to do it.”

There was a long silence.

“Most of the people around you are here because there is nowhere else to go. They won’t really tell you when you’re fucking up. They won’t tell you when you’re not being a real man. They won’t question your authority, because of who you are
supposed
to be. But I was here for
you
. And up until this very moment, I could rationalize why.”

“Then why give up on me so easily?” His voice was grave.

“It wasn’t easy, baby,” she said, looking away. She turned her back to him.

“At least wait until I get back from Prague,” he pleaded, looking at her back. “Let’s talk about it then.”

She shook her head. “No, Ana. I’m done waiting for you.” Walking out the room, she left him alone in the kitchen.

***

Agosto had a bad feeling in his gut. He sat in his office on the phone talking to Destiny and something just didn’t sit well with him. She had just informed him that Anatoly would be coming over to her apartment for drinks and to
talk
, and while that normally would have been good for a seasoned UC, he wasn’t sure that Destiny was smart enough to handle the Medlov men, especially the cold-hearted, young one, Anatoly.

The MPD had a hundred unsolved cases surrounding the young boss, and yet, he constantly remained untouchable. Nothing was ever traceable back to Anatoly. While he was always near or at the scene of a crime or a horrible catastrophe, not once were they ever able to prove that he was guilty of more than just bad luck.

“Make sure that you wear a wire?” he reminded.

“I can’t wear a wire,” Destiny said quickly. “I’ll have the surveillance equipment in the apartment. You can watch the entire thing. I just want him to feel safe around me. You know. He’s going to open up. I can feel it.”

“He’s not a regular guy. This isn’t a regular date. These aren’t normal people. If he’s sees one chink in your chain, he’ll hang you with it.”

“I wish that you would trust me,” she said as she held a dress up to her in the mirror.

“
I wish that you
would listen to me,” Agosto replied. “Just remember that you can’t sleep with him.”

“I’m not a whore, and I’m not hard up. You forget that I’m dating Harrison in homicide. We’ve been together for a year. We plan to get married soon. ”

Agosto knew Harrison. Hes nothing to brag about. “Be careful. Ask the questions that we’ve gone over. Make the date short.”

“How can I get in his head if the date is short?”

“If it’s too long, he might get in your pants; he might figure you out. He might just reach over and snap your neck or rape you.”

“Then you’ll have it on tape and you can prosecute.”

Agosto shook his head. He should have chosen someone else for the job, but it was too late now. “Fine. We’ll be watching. If you need help, if you need to blow your cover and pull your fire arm, if you need to arrest the guy for assault or attempted rape, do it. Just be safe. Remember, there will always be other cases.”

“I know,” she said, looking at her watch. “I better go. He’ll be here in an hour.”

***

Anatoly sat outside of Destiny’s apartment in his Maserati and drank out of his flask. Brooding over Renee, he continued to relive the moment in her kitchen over and over again. He’d lost her in one stupid move. The funny part of it all was that he’d never known that he had her. Her confession, while light, had made his heart heavy. She looked him in his face with tears in her eyes and confessed something that from any other woman would have been meaningless but from her was priceless. However, there was one thing that confused him more than anything else. Did he feel the loss of her as his friend or as his...dare he say it...soul mate? He laughed at the thought and looked over at the light coming from Destiny’s apartment.

And this bitch was trying to set him up.

He thought of walking in, grabbing her by her hair, leading her out to the balcony and putting one in her head right in front of the unmarked squad car a few blocks down. That would be a great way to say fuck them all, but then he’d have to deal with his father. The thought sent chills down his spine. His old man had gone soft for his wife, but he was still a brutal
sonofabitch
to everyone else, including him when he screwed things up.

Throwing the flask down on his passenger seat, he got out of the car and made his way to her place. With every step, he dreaded what he had to do. And it was not because he had lost the taste for this life; it was because he knew he should have been off trying to get Renee back.

Destiny opened the door as quickly as he rang the bell. With a smile, she greeted him.

“Wasn’t hard to find, I hope,” she said, gesturing towards the sofa.

“No,” Anatoly said with a deceiving smile. “You have a nice place.” He looked around.
This was a hole-in-the-wall, unworthy of his dogs.

“Thank you,” she said, going to the kitchen to fix them a drink. “Like scotch?”

“No,” he said, sitting down. “Got any Russian vodka?”

“Sure,” she said, peeking her head around the corner. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be out in just a minute.”

You want to make me comfortable, you dirty bitch.
Then come and let me ride your face
, he thought to himself as he moved the pillow from behind him. “So, do you like Memphis so far?” he asked, looking around her apartment. He wondered if this was really her place. If not, the MPD was entirely too cheap. It was barely 1,000 square feet and poorly built. He felt as though he was in a shabby box.

“It’s okay. It’s not better than Alabama,” she answered.

“What
is
better than Alabama,” he said sarcastically under his breath.

“Did you say something?” she asked, rounding the corner with two drinks.

He took the glass from her and sighed. “No. You...you look great.” He swept her body with a sensual gaze. That part was real.

“Thank you.” She smoothed her red dress down over her wide hips. Sitting down beside him on the sofa, she smiled, revealing perfect, white teeth. “You alright? You look different.”

“It’s just been a long day,” he explained. “I don’t get out much, because I work so hard.”

“At the restaurant?”

“Yes, at the restaurant,” he said, shaking his head. Taking a sip of the drink, he sat back. “It’s really good be out with a beautiful woman and just relaxing for a change.” He watched her carefully.