Dirty Minds: An Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

Through the limo window, I gazed up at several helicopters moving through the sky. I assumed they were with the French. One continued to follow, while others appeared to scan the city.

No matter where we went, smoke hung in the air. Fires sprouted up wherever we drove. Masses of people fled. Hysterical crowds raced around on foot. A few people pointed this way, and that way while others followed.

And the roads were horrific. So many cars packed the streets. There were lines everywhere. Some vehicles had begun driving on the pavement. Several accidents had occurred. I’d spotted more ambulance vehicles and fire trucks than I’d seen since my visit to Paris.

Mayhem occurred at the highest level.

Is this all Kazimir?

The police had blocked several roads, and most of the entrances to the highway. However, when we pulled up, the cops waved us and our police accompaniment through.

Jean-Pierre has Paris on lock. There’s no doubt about that.

Silence hung in the limo.

I scanned the space.

Jean-Pierre sat on my right. Rafael on my left. After the bathroom fight, the Corsican would not be leaving me alone again anytime soon. Across from us, the black woman with the afro whispered something to their cousin Louis. I studied the man as they exchanged muttered conversation. Louis caught me watching. I turned away.

I can be around Jean-Pierre, or Rafael. They’ll be easy to knock around, but Louis. . .he won’t play that.

He went back to whispering to Gwen, but I could tell I had all his attention. It was in his body language. While his face leaned toward her, his feet and hands targeted my direction. He was readying himself to grab me, if necessary.

Calm down, Louis. I’m not stupid.

Jean-Pierre looked over me, and stared at Rafael.

I leaned back, completely uncomfortable with being in the middle of them.

Frowning, Jean-Pierre spoke to Rafael. “I’m sorry about your restaurant.”

“That’s fine.” Rafael kept his voice low, but anger blazed in his eyes. “A truck crashing through the restaurant, is an exact metaphor for my relationship with Shalimar anyway. What other way could we end?”

Okay. So there’s a Shalimar that Rafael was dating, and a restaurant that he’d named after her. Makes sense, but how can this help me get away from them.

Any information could be my key to escaping.

I stayed silent, listening further .

Jean-Pierre let out a long breath. “Do you want to avoid seeing her when we get there? The limo is taking us over there now.”

Okay. So, now we’re going to see this Shalimar. Why?

“No.” Rafael gestured to the black women sitting further away. Louis and she had continued their low conversation, but Louis’s shoulders had not loosened up. He was ready to charge for me.

Maybe, we can drop off Louis at this Shalimar’s spot.

Rafael did a quick point to the black woman. “Let’s drop Gwen off first, then go.”

Okay. The black woman is named, Gwen. That could be important or not.

“We wasted time going to the restaurant.” Jean-Pierre glared at me. “I let you both have your break. No more losing time.”

Annoyance hit Rafael’s voice. “Ten minutes in my closed restaurant, then a crash and shoot out. That was our break?”

“Pretty much.” Jean-Pierre let out a long breath, then inhaled, and let it out again. “Do you feel that? It’s rejuvenation. It’s a second wind. I already feel the extra dose of energy racing through my veins.”

“You look like you haven’t slept or eaten anything in twenty-four hours.” Rafael frowned, and then appeared annoyed as he watched Louis lift Gwen’s hand and kiss her fingertips. Gwen giggled and took her hand from his.

Do we have a love triangle here? Louis and Rafael both like Gwen maybe? But I thought Rafael liked this Shalimar chick. More important, how can I use this against them and get out.

As I sat in the middle of them, Rafael whispered to Jean-Pierre. “You think Louis tried to fuck Gwen yet?”

Definitely a love triangle.

“What?” Jean-Pierre scowled, checked his pants pocket for the phone, raised his eyebrows, and then touched the other pocket.

Fuck. He’s looking for the phone. Of course. I have to give it back, before he handcuffs me.

I loosened the phone from my sleeve and lay it between us. When I looked up, I swore Louis caught it.

Did he?

Meanwhile, Jean-Pierre checked the other pocket again and then spotted the phone. Probably too exhausted, he didn’t get suspicious.

Fuck. That was close.

Louis’s gaze never left me.

That was my last chance. I better not try that shit again.

Jean-Pierre turned the phone on, not even realizing that he never turned it off. “No. Louis is damn near celibate.”

What are we talking about? Oh yeah. Louis trying to have sex with Afro Gwen.

I checked Louis. He still watched me.

I turned to Rafael who shook his head and whispered, “He’s been flirting with her all night.”

“The moment he’s overly flirtatious, is the moment when he’s really not fucking anybody.” Jean-Pierre dialed a number. “Has anybody found out what Kazimir did with the lions yet?”