Lev (Shot Callers 1)

My brother was a hard man, but he was also patient. And growing up with me was not easy, I was sure. He never raised his voice to me, even when I was told I was being unreasonable. He was kind and understanding, and he explained things to me in a way I would understand.

I was six years old when my parents realized something was wrong with me. Our family dog, Mishka, ran out into the road and was hit by car. When my father told me she hadn’t survived, I simply nodded then ran upstairs to my room to process.

That was where I was found, hours later, covered in blood after slamming my head into my bedroom wall, over and over. My father rushed me to the emergency room. I’d opened the side of my head to the bone. They stitched me up, but still, I didn’t cry.

When the doctor asked if this was something that happened often, my father got angry. He said there was nothing wrong with me and that it was an accident. The doctor calmly explained that he could help, but my father picked me up and took me home.

In the car, he turned to me and said, “You are my son and I love you. There is nothing wrong with you.” But as the years went on, it became clear to anyone who met me that there was something wrong with me.

Although I smiled on occasion, I never laughed. I was able to remember almost every detail of every conversation I had ever had. I was smart in an abnormal way, and could calculate large sums in my mind. I did not understand or process emotion as others did. I didn’t cry. And I never lied.

People called me a cyborg.

I didn’t like that.

My sister, Nastasia, beat the shit out of the kids who dared to tease me. Sasha never had to raise a finger. All he would need to do was glare at them and they’d run scared.

Time went on, and Sasha helped me while Nastasia loved me unconditionally. Sasha taught me to respond to people in a casual fashion and helped me read cues. I still wasn’t any good at taking prompts from people. If you didn’t tell me what you were feeling, chances were I wouldn’t know.

Nastasia told me there was nothing wrong with me. That it wasn’t my fault I was smarter than everyone else. She said that if the rest of the world didn’t have shit for brains then I wouldn’t be so special, so I should be grateful.

The young woman moved amongst the crowd in a seemingly casual way, but I saw more in the way she watched the men with a hawk’s eye.

She was up to something. And I would find out exactly what.

***

Mina

It was harder than it looked, choosing a man to seduce.

It didn’t help that most of the men in the club were in their late forties and fifties and smelled like sweat combined with vodka, and that stale musty smell people got when they’d been drinking too much. It was funny that I felt the need to complain about smell, when I likely smelled just as bad. I should be grateful if one of these men took pity on me.

When one man grabbed at my hand and yelled in my ear, “Part of the entertainment?” I shook my head in panic, snatched my arm away, and dashed away, back to my corner.

Mentally scolding myself, I regrouped. He would’ve been a good candidate. Sure, he was old and fat and balding, but he wore nice rings and likely had a full wallet. Closing my eyes, I sighed.

What am I doing?

I scoffed, shaking my head before I stood. I couldn’t sleep with any of these men; it didn’t matter how hungry I was. And I was stupid to think I would be able to go through with my ridiculous plan.

Straightening, I moved to leave the club. Just as I was walking past a group of rowdy men, an attractive middle-aged man leaned over the bar to speak to one of the gorgeous bartenders.

I stilled, and everything else melted away.

The man’s wallet hung out of his back pocket half an inch.

It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough.

My feet took me over to him before I’d even mentally decided on what to do. I really didn’t want to steal this guy’s wallet. I just wanted to live another day. It wasn’t personal. It was life.

A foot away from the man, I stood with my back to him, and with quick fingers, I lifted the wallet out, whisper soft. I shoved it into my coat and, heart racing, looked around until I saw the neon light for the ladies room.

I didn’t stop to think. I ran.

Making my way down the narrow hall, I shoved the heavy door open. It was empty. I looked around with wide eyes before rushing into one of the many vacant stalls, seating myself on the closed toilet seat to see how I’d done.