Almost Broken Up (Almost Bad Boys) (14 page)

Okay, so it is the same man. Colin told me that Faith once mentioned to him her uncle. That he did weird things to her, but she wouldn’t exactly say what. Colin didn’t think it was of a sexual nature. Faith was a virgin when they first met. So what was so strange that this guy, who’s now sitting across from me, hell bent on hurting Colin, did to his beloved niece? What was it that she cringed upon mentioning and never even wanted to elaborate upon?
 

“Tell me about Faith,” I say.

He looks up sharply at me, and then rubs his chin with his hand. The two-day stubble on his face is almost completely gray. He’s quiet for a long time, and I’m waiting. I want to kick him hard under the table and scream,
what the fuck was so horrible that you did to that girl? What was it that she wouldn’t ever want to tell anyone?”

Razor arranges his fingers in a steeple and looks at me from under his drawn-together brows. “I loved her like my own daughter. My brother didn’t have time or patience for the kid. He kept her at home, wouldn’t let her go anywhere. I would buy her ice cream and Coke. She loved Coke. We lived in a small village. There was one grocery store, and I would drive her there sometimes.”

I slowly shake my head. “So, what was so bad about it?”

“Bad? Nothing was bad! Nothing, do you understand?” He’s angry. He pounds his fist on the table, and I jump. Whoa, what just happened?
 

He closes his eyes and breathes deeply. A moment later he says, “I’m sorry. Did I upset you?”

Fuck yes! “It’s okay. Tell me more about Faith.”

Razor buries his face in his hands. The guy is definitely odd, but I’m not going to point this out now. I’m waiting for him to continue. I see Svetlana and Oleg discretely watching us.
 

“Faith was unhappy. Her mother was a fucking drunk. Never cared about that kid. She was drinking and smoking even when she was pregnant with Faith. The booze killed her finally, and that was a good thing.” He spits on the floor. “I told Faith that we could run away together. I would be her daddy and take care of her, and we would never see my brother again.”

Huh? That’s so out of left field. “What did she say about that?”

“She wanted to go. She liked that idea. But she also wanted to go to college. I told her no college! It was either leaving together or nothing.”

Whoa. Bizarre is not the term strong enough for what he just said. This is too odd. He’s a real piece of work, but then, all psychos are.

“What?” he asks, taken aback.
 

“What do you mean
what
?” I shrug.

“You’re looking at me funny.”

I turn my face away from him so I can roll my eyes and not be called on it. When I look back, he seems confused. I wonder what’s going through his head now. His mind must be like one of those colorful yet nonsense kaleidoscopes.
 

“It just seems unusual that you wanted to be her
daddy
, and she simply agreed. But then you wouldn’t let her go to college. Why?” I look him straight in the eye. His pupils seem to dilate and contract.
 

“She needed my protection. I wouldn’t be able to watch over her when she was away at a college. She was weak and naïve, like a little child,” Razor explains. “Men would take an advantage of her, and she wouldn’t know how to guard herself.”

“So how would this be any better than living with her father? You said he was keeping Faith on a short leash. What you offered was exactly the same. Worse even, since her father actually let her go off to college.” I lean back in my chair and fold my arms over my chest.
 

“Women need protection,” he says stubbornly.
 

Whoa, what rock did you crawl from under, buddy?
 

“Okay, fine. So what’s your problem with Colin?” I’m not getting much from him. I still don’t know why he thinks Colin had anything to do with Faith’s death.
 

He says through clenched teeth, “That guy made her die.
He
did that. She was an innocent child, vulnerable, and he took an advantage of her. He got her into drugs and alcohol. He was buying it all for her. He wanted her to get weak and die.”

I feel my eyebrows draw together. I’m angry and confused. Angry with myself for letting a doubt mar my trust for Colin. And confused, because what Razor is saying doesn’t really add up. It’s a nonsense rambling that comes from a crazy mind. That’s exactly what it is, and I have to dismiss it all. Or do I?

“What happened after Faith’s father allowed her to go to college? What did you do?” I ask.
 

He looks away, not wanting to meet my eyes.
 

“What happened?” I insist.
 

After what seems like forever, he mumbles, “I… took her and drove her to the cabin. She was to stay there until I got a place in Montana for us.”

“What? You actually
kidnapped
her? Why the hell would you do that?”

“She needed to be protected. She was weak,” he repeats. His eyes are blazing as if in fever, and I see a glimpse of his crazy side again. “I put a collar on her and tied her to bed. She could get to the bathroom, but not any further.”

What the fuck? A collar? Like on a pet? “Was this how you planned to
protect
her because she was weak?”
 

“You know nothin’,” he snaps. “It was a nice collar. It had real zirconias in it. She liked it.”

I’m sure she did. “Did she tell you that?” I sneer.

“She got away, but I know she liked it. She was safe with me.”

Holy smoke, this guy is impossibly delusional. How can I convince him that his way of thinking is ludicrous, and how do I make sure he leaves Colin out of it? I try carefully, “You went to jail, didn’t you?”

“For cutting one of the deserving ones,” he says proudly.

Interesting choice of words. “You mean one of the guys that beat or cheated on their wives?”

“I cut his ear off with my blade. Slowly. He had to pay for what he did to his girlfriend.”

I shudder. “What did he do?”

“Every Friday after work he would hire a prostitute and take her to a hotel room,” he says in conspiratorial whisper. “The girlfriend would wait for him with a home cooked dinner, without suspecting anything.”

Wow, listening to him was like watching a bad movie. “Why do you think you need to be the avenging hand? These people can resolve their own issues. I’m sure none of them wanted you to take an initiative, especially the way you do.”

“It’s my job,” he says stubbornly.
 

Okay. I rest my case. “You need to leave Colin alone. That’s it. He did not cause Faith’s death. She was drunk and crashed her car. She did that to herself,” I explain like to a child.
 

He looks at me in that peculiar way that makes me want to run for the hills. The guy needs to be locked up. Seriously.
 

“How do you know? Were you there?”

“Were you?” I fire back.
 

He smirks.
 

I smirk too. “You know crap. She was shitfaced. Colin tried to stop her, to take the car keys away, but she hit him with a wine bottle over the head. Split his head open. He has a scar to prove it. She jumped in the car and started to drive off. Colin got in with her, because he was still trying to stop her. She wouldn’t even let him put a seatbelt on her. She veered the car to the oncoming traffic, right in front of a semi. It was a miracle Colin survived that crash.”

“He won’t survive my blade,” he hisses.
 

The connection between my brain and the rest of my body often malfunctions, so I slap Razor before I even realize what I’m doing. Oh, shit. His head snaps to the side from the impact, and he almost falls from the chair. He jumps to his feet, knocking the chair over, and grabs me by the arms, forcing me to stand up.
 

Out of nowhere, Oleg appears behind Razor. His left arm circles Razor’s neck in a classic chokehold. Oleg says something in Russian to his own collar. Must be one of those tiny surveillance microphones. Razor struggles, clawing against his attacker’s muscular arm, but Oleg’s grip is unwavering. Razor gives up, and his eyes bulge as he’s gasping for air.
 

Svetlana’s by my side, asking if I’m okay. Three bouncers enter the scene, and I see the second Russian thug, Vadim, quickly weaving through the crowd toward us. He stops though when the rest of us are taken to the small office in the back. I ask Svetlana what the hell just happened, and why we aren’t getting away or something. Before she even finishes her sentence we are told to take it somewhere else. Can this day end any worse? Now I’m thrown out from a bar? Seriously? Great.

THIRTEEN

“Absence from whom we love is worse than death.”
 

William Cowper

I’ve never been as ashamed as I am now. Dammit. Oleg pushes Razor outside, warning him not to do anything stupid. Huge muscles on his arms are bulging, and prominent veins run under his skin. He is a hulking man, with a brooding expression and heavily hooded dark eyes.
 

Vadim joins us outside. “Should we pop him?”
 

I feel my eyes grow huge. “What? You can’t be serious. Nobody is popping anyone.”

Vadim is as big and as thickly muscled as Oleg. His nose must have been broken more than once for it’s misshapen and crooked to the side. There is a long, ugly scar running from his temple through his left cheek and ending past his chin. He just looks like someone who wouldn’t think twice about killing Razor and dumping his body in a sewer. I shudder.
 

“No, Vadim. There is no need,” Svetlana says gently. Vadim nods to her. She turns to Razor and asks, “What do you want with my friend, Natalie?”

He only stares at her in silence. He’s pissed.
 

“Natalie!” I hear someone calling my name. I turn and see Jena running toward us.
 

“Oh, great,” I mutter.

“Who’s that?” Svetlana asks.
 

“One of my best friends.”
 

Jena stops in front of our peculiar group and eyes the guys suspiciously. “Which one of you is Razor?” She puts her fists on her hips, and I must admit she looks like a scary chick.

“I am,” Razor offers. “Who are you?”

In the next few seconds the hell breaks loose, when Jena punches Razor in the mouth, Svetlana and I scream, Oleg grabs Razor, saving him from hitting the ground, and Vadim takes two steps back, laughing, hands out in conciliatory gesture. I grip Jena’s arm, and Svetlana clutches her other arm, pulling her away from the guys.
 

“What the hell, Jena?” I gasp.

“Fuck!” Razor wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “What was that for, woman?”

“For stalking my friend, you asshole!” Jena yells. She has a real problem with stalkers. Two of her ex-boyfriends did some serious stalking to her, and I remember how scared she was. If it wasn’t for Ali, Caroline, and yours truly, Jena would probably go crazy with the stunts they pulled on her. So I can hardly blame her for going postal on Razor after learning from my text about what’s going on.
 

Vadim is still laughing, eyeing Jena with admiration. His eyes twinkle, and he looks totally impressed with her. Oh, great. Oleg’s pensive look loosens a bit, and there is a ghost of a smile on his tightly pressed together lips. I guess that’s the most humor he’s capable of showing.
 

Svetlana reaches her manicured hand to Jena. “I’m Svetlana.”

“Ah, so you are the Russian chick.” Jena takes Svetlana’s hand and tips her chin at her, adding, “
Milo poznakomitsya.”
I’m guessing it’s something in Russian—a greeting maybe?
 

All three Russians immediately start speaking in, what I assume, is their native language. Razor and I look at each other and shrug.
 

“I don’t really speak Russian that well.” Jena stops them.
 

“No matter, no matter,” Svetlana weaves her arm through Jena’s and takes her to the side, speaking slowly, “
Ty niemnozka gavarish po russkiy, da?
”