Page 33 of The Cat's Mausy

Sit Down

The Italians had picked a Chinese restaurant in one of the neutral zones of the Three Rings to have the sit down. Papa had once told him that there was something about making everyone mildly uncomfortable with what they were eating to put the table on even footing.

Dimitri had always thought that was a bit closed-minded and probably more than a little racist but he couldn’t completely fault the general idea. He probably wouldn’t have felt comfortable if they had met at an Italian restaurant and he imagined the Italians wouldn’t feel comfortable in a Russian restaurant either.

Still, he felt like he was going to throw up as he got out of the car with Adrian, and Dimitri’s babysitter/bodyguard for the evening, a Bpatok named Fritz that Adrian trusted. Fritz apparently took his job very seriously; he followed a step behind Dimitri when he said he was going to use the bathroom as they stepped inside the building.

He was just about to turn around to ask if Fritz was going to hold it for him, too, when the men’s room door opened and two nearly identical men stepped out.

The Cat paused and smiled as his eyes fell on Dimitri. “Little Volkov,” he said casually, his buff doppelganger standing at his shoulder as their eyes flicked to Fritz. The Cat’s smile grew. “Fritz,” he said as if greeting a long-time friend. “How’s the knee? Never did get a chance to ask last time we saw each other.”

“Hakhal’nyy kot,” Fritz muttered. “It’s fine. How are the ribs?”

The Cat shrugged. “Dog hits harder,” he said casually. “But don’t let us hold you up.” He stepped back and gestured to the bathroom door. “I believe the Pakhan is already here and the Don will arrive shortly. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

Dimitri felt something in him snap and he stepped forward, jerking his arm away from Fritz’s fingers when he grabbed at him. “What makes you think you can get away with any of this,” he demanded, forgetting for a moment that he was talking to the same man who had nearly wiped out an entire apartment building looking for one person. “Issac doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“Interesting,” the Cat purred, not moving from where he stood. “Because from where I stood last night, it’s you he wanted nothing to do with.”

The words hit like a knife to Dimitri’s heart. “Issac just doesn’t know what you are.”

He laughed and the hairs on the back of Dimitri’s neck rose as the Cat raised his hands up above his shoulders and stepped forward into Dimitri’s space. “Or maybe,” he whispered as Dimitri made himself stand as still as possible, “you are still only seeing the tutor beaten up on the bathroom floor. The Issac I see is far more complex than your little brain can fathom. He is a man who can rule the world, and I intend on being on his good side when he decides to do it.”

Dimitri’s hands shook as he stared into those hazel eyes. Issac told him about the attack? He didn’t want to believe that but there was no other way the Cat could have known about that day. True, some bastard wouldn’t let the video die; whoever made it had been careful in their edits so it didn’t look as bad as it had been. But Issac never talked about, it not even to Dimitri, and Dimitri had been the one to take him home after he refused to go to the hospital.

The Cat smiled a bit wider. “See you at dinner,” he said, keeping his hands up as he edged around Dimitri. “Good to see you, Fritz,” he added.

The other Italian followed the Cat, putting his hands up as he passed Dimitri. He gave Fritz a nod. “Fritz.”

“Dog,” Fritz grumbled, turning slowly to watch the two men as they walked away then turning back to Dimitri. “You need to be more careful, Dimitri,” he said in a low voice. “Your Papa and Brat can handle the Cat but you shouldn’t challenge him like that.”

“His smile pissed me off,” Dimitri huffed and clenched his jaw. Just what are the Cat’s plans with Issac? “How do they know you?”

Fritz let out a slow sigh. “It was seven years ago. I had been out with a group of friends inside the Organization, drinking at a bar outside the Rings. There was a group of young Italians there too, including Cat and his brother, Dog, who I believe had just turned twenty-one. I don’t recall who started the fight. Someone made a passing insult that in turn got another until it broke into violence.” He shrugged. “Typical stupid behavior from young men. The police were called and we all scattered, but I had hurt my knee in the fight and trying to run dislocated it. None of my friends realized I had fallen. The next thing I knew, the Cat had grabbed me and pulled me into an alley behind a dumpster, keeping me quiet as the police passed us by. His brother and another Italian swung back around in a car and the Cat supported me into it, taking me to a clinic that wouldn’t ask any questions. I learned there that the Cat had cracked three ribs in the fight and manhandling me to safety must have hurt like Hell.”

“Wh- why would he help you if you had just been fighting?” Dimitri asked, his eyes widening.

“I asked him that same question in the alley,” Fritz said, tilting his head. “He laughed at me, that same laugh you heard just now, and told me that no one was going to jail if he could help it.” He shook his head. “The Cat is a dangerous man, Dimitri. But he is a man of values and morals, just as he is ruthless and merciless to those who have crossed him or the Italians. He is named well. Cats are not known for their predictability. I truly believe that he had just wanted to take his brother out to have fun. Getting into a fight, even after his ribs were broken, had been fun for him. Running from the police had been fun for him. Straddling me and keeping his hand over my mouth to shut me up as the lights came and went had been fun for him. Getting arrested? That would not have been fun. The treaty and the leaders within the Three Rings understand that young men will find a reason to scuffle with each other. They are all less forgiving when those scuffles end with bail money. He had done me a favor just as much as he had done himself one. But by God, it had all been in the name of fun.” He paused, his face going pale. “The next time I saw the Cat,” he said softly, “was two and a half years ago. He had cornered a man in an alley just inside of the Russian Ring with two of his men- the men you described picking up Issac this afternoon. Adrian had been with us and confronted him about entering our Ring without permission. He just… smiled and threw the man back over the border into the arms of his men, apologized for the inconvenience, and crossed back over again while the other two got started on their work. I won’t tell you what they did to that man but it haunted my dreams for a month. He is not someone you should ever cross.”

“All the more reason,” Dimitri said, clenching his fists as they shook, “for us to get Issac away from him.”

* * *

“You are going to make me turn gray before I’m thirty,” Brutus muttered as they approached the back room that had been reserved for the sit down. “Was mocking the kid really necessary? You already know he’s going to have a hard time swallowing that the person he’s known all this time has been lying to him.”

“He’s been pissing me off since day one,” Felinus said, waving his hand. “At least his brother has sense. Little Volkov has wasted seven years pining after a lie and somehow made that my fault.”

“You have said yourself that Issac’s a good liar,” Brutus pointed out. “I don’t think it’s fair to put all of this on Little Volkov. He had no reason to think there was anything off about an apparently normal guy he met in college. Do you really think you would have made him as quickly as you did if you met him in a normal honest setting?”

Felinus made a point to adjust his cuff links to hide his frown. His brother had a point. Issac hadn’t been trying to hide his instincts from Felinus when they had met, and in complete honesty, he didn’t know how Issac acted when he was alone with “normal” people. For a moment, he imagined him acting like the stereotype of a weak nerd who only cared about books and grades; but as cute as the glasses his imagination put Issac in to try to complete the effect, he couldn’t quite manage it. It didn’t feel right. Issac wasn’t weak, and even when he was being submissive, he was defiant. He pushed the thought out of his head quickly before his cock could do more than give an interested twitch. “That’s not the point.”

“No,” Brutus agreed, “the point is you are a dick who likes poking bears to see how they’ll growl at you.” He raised an eyebrow when Felinus glared at him. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

A short laugh escaped Felinus. “I don’t think he quite counts as a bear.” He grinned at his brother. “Not enough hair. Come on,” he said when Brutus rolled his eyes. “We shouldn’t keep people waiting.”

“Pakhan Volkov,” Esposito said as they all entered the room and positioned themselves at their chairs, extending a hand to his Russian counterpart. “I thank you for agreeing to this sit down on such short notice. The Family is not interested in having our friendship damaged by delaying this meeting.”

Pakhan Volkov was around the same age as Esposito and had similar signs of age. He hadn’t given over the reigns to others like Esposito had though judging by the fresh bruising on his knuckles, unless they were tattooed that color. The Russians loved their tattoos, even more than the Irish, and the Pakhan was practically covered in them even in his suit with its unbuttoned collar. Adrian sat next to his father’s right hand, with Dimitri and Fritz next over. The Pakhan’s two Spies were on his left, and a third older man sat on the end to even out the table.

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