Torrid (Sordid 2)

Aleksandar wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. I wandered past the fancy dining room with its gleaming table and ten chairs, and the crystal chandelier glinted in the sunlight coming from the oversized windows. Where the hell was he? Outside?

I went to the hall closet by the garage to get my shoes, and startled as he stepped out of the laundry room. A gasp cut off in my throat when he grabbed my waist and yanked me into the room with him. I spun out of his hold as quickly as possible, wanting his hands gone.

“I told you he’d go for it,” Aleksandar said, hushed. He looked upset, which I understood. He’d been heavily coerced into helping me. He was a serial gambler who owed half of Chicago money. Not just the Serbs, but the Italians, the Irish, the Chinese, and us. My father had fronted him the money to consolidate his debts in one place, but it meant we owned Vasilije’s right hand man in totality. He’d fought so hard against this plot, claiming he’d be loyal to Vasilije till death. That was easy enough to arrange, my father had told him.

Aleksandar didn’t like it, but he had no choice.

“Here,” he said, bending beside the washing machine and pulling out a thin black box that was tucked between the wall and the machine, hidden from view. “Everything you need is in there, all right?”

I ignored his agitated tone, took it from him, and opened the box. Encased in foam, the black squares were the same size as a 9V battery. These were the surveillance devices I had agreed to hide in Vasilije’s house so my father could know all the moves the Markovics were making as soon as the decisions had been made.

I lifted a corner of the foam and peered at the card with licensing code for hacking Vasilije’s mobile. I’d need two minutes with the phone to install the hidden app. A month of training meant I had both the steps and the code memorized, but it was included, just in case.

My pulse picked up. So far my father’s plan had aligned with mine, but I was about to veer in my own direction, and everything was going to become riskier. “How long is the battery life on these?”

Aleksandar was a breath away from chewing at his fingernails, he looked that worried. “Up to ten days. Why?”

“Ten days?” I faked outrage. “After everything I’m doing, that’s not long enough. We talked about using the thirty day ones.”

Anger swirled in his beady eyes. “Hey, that’s on you guys. I held up my end of the deal. You plant those tonight, I get you out of here tomorrow while he’s at work, and then we go our separate ways.”

I shook my head. “Tell Petrov I need the long-lasting ones. We’ve only got one shot at this. I’m not wasting it on a device where the battery runs out in a week.”

He stared at me. “Are you fucking crazy? You don’t get it, girl. Every day you’re here, it’s another day he might figure out you’re setting him up. You know what’ll happen then?”

“Vasilije will kill me.” My voice was flat.

“Yeah, and if I don’t get you out of here alive, your people will kill me. Assuming Vasilije doesn’t do it first.”

I tried to feel bad for him, but couldn’t. Aleksandar worked for the Markovics. He had more blood on his hands than I did, and he reluctantly agreed to turn against his own people. Aleksandar was also stupid if he thought he could tell me what to do. My position with Vasilije meant I got to call the shots. If I demanded different devices, my father would make it happen. He couldn’t trust Aleksandar to plant the devices himself, and wouldn’t waste the opportunity I was giving him.

“So,” I said, “I’d suggest getting me those devices as quickly as possible.”

Aleksandar made a sound of frustration, ripped his phone from his pocket, and made a call. I listened to the terse conversation and tried not to give anything away. The more upset Aleksandar sounded, the better it was for me.

He hung up and shoved the phone in his jeans. “It’s Thanksgiving this week. Earliest the Russians can get their hands on them is Monday.”

He looked furious, but I shrugged. I’d just bought myself another week with Vasilije. I had to ignore the competing feelings I had about it.

“Let me talk to Vasilije,” he said abruptly. “Maybe he’ll let you come home with me. The less you’re around him, the better for both of us.”

I must have overestimated Aleksandar’s intelligence. I barely knew Vasilije, but I could tell he wouldn’t give me up. He was a cat and I was his captured mouse. He was enjoying playing with me, not ready yet to move in for the kill.