Page 75 of I Stop Somewhere Waiting For You

Fuck. How did I actually think that Yuri didn’t have someone on me? It’s not like I planned the other day but, damn, I should have been smarter about it.

“Gimme ten minutes.” I hop up, trudging toward the bedroom to throw on some jeans and a tee.

I’m just about to make my way down the hallway when Nicky’s voice gives me pause. “You ever think about getting it removed?”

Looking back at him, I notice his line of sight fixed on the right side of my ribs. I spare a glance downward before my eyes snap back to his. “You’d have to skin it off my fucking corpse.”

***

We pull up to the back of Echo to find one of Yuri’s guys positioned at the rear door. It irritates me to no end that this fucker just waltzes into my shit like he owns the goddamn place. However, even I know my limitations when it comes to choosing my battles.

Yuri Petrov is a Vor for the Bratva. That’s old school Russian mob shit right there. Me and Nicky putting bullets in soldiers or rogue dealers? Child’s play. Piss off the Bratva? They’ll fuck your wife, carve her up and mail her back to you piece by piece.

Tommy really fucked us back in the day. After we dealt with him, Nicky made contact with Yuri to explain while he very much appreciated the effort to assist in his business expansion —AKA attempting to fucking murder me— Tommy was deranged and essentially used him to try and initiate a gang war. Yuri seemed very understanding… right up until he put a bullet in Nick’s leg.

He then very calmly explained that he didn’t give two fucks who made promises, only that promises had been made. The Russians recognized the potential in Nicky’s operation and wanted to become his sole distribution channel. Yuri made it perfectly clear what would happen if he was denied that opportunity. So Nicky made it happen, which was no small feat I might add, considering how far along he was in finalizing contracts with his original partners.

How did he avoid that bullet, you ask?

Me. I picked up his original contract and met all the previously agreed-upon terms with the stipulation that Nicky was not to be touched. Do I give a fuck about Nicky C.? Not in the slightest. But I couldn’t bear the thought of Jones burying the one person she loves more than anyone.

The next hurdle we faced was keeping Yuri from putting me in the ground. I was the thorn in his side who provided Enzo Stingone an entire new stream of revenue in fueling their turf war. I gotta be honest, it wasn’t looking good. So, imagine my surprise when Enzo reached out to lay claim to me as an official associate. His warning was clear—any attack against me would be considered an attack against the family, one that would carry serious consequences mounting atop an already tense situation considering their feud.

When I asked him why he did it, he simply said it was a smart financial decision. He issued a condition that I supply him with a fifteen percent kickback of my drug business, though back then that was pennies compared to what the mafia was pulling in. He may have claimed financial motivation, but he didn’t really start seeing anything worth batting an eyelash at outside of the last two years. Truth is, he took a chance on me, and I still have no idea why. He did retain control of the guns but, honestly, I was relieved about that. ATF would have nabbed me by now otherwise.

We enter through the back door, me leading the way down the pitch-black hallway. I navigate the darkness with ease, knowing all my clubs like the back of my hand. Pushing through the thick black curtains at the end of the hall, we enter into the main space. Yuri’s seated at a table in the center of the room, the lights dimmed in effort to obtain whatever dramatic effect he’s going for. In addition to being a fucking psychopath, he’s also a douche who’s massively full of himself. Yeah, he’s the whole package.

Nicky and I slowly make our way over to the table, coming to a stop before him. Yuri looks up at us, a wide smile creeping across his otherwise hard face. “Gentlemen.” He motions for us to sit.

We comply because, let’s be real, we don’t actually have a choice.

“Maverick Bishop.” Yuri glares at me with his beady little eyes, gesturing at me with his cigar. “You seem to be doing quite well for yourself. Are you holding out on me?”

“I don’t report to you, Yuri.” I lean back in my chair, attempting to remain unfazed, though this asshole always puts me on edge. Placing a cigarette between my lips, I strike open my zippo, the flame momentarily illuminating the space between us. The initial pull of the cool menthol sensation trickling into my lungs helps calm me. “And last I checked, I continue to provide a service to you.”

“A service your bosses would be interested in hearing about, I’m sure.”

My jaw tics in annoyance. We’re referring to the last piece of the deal that allowed Nicky and me to escape this shit show still breathing. Yuri didn’t choose this spot by chance. Echo is one of the clubs I use to launder his money. Envy being the other.

Back when all this went down, Envy was the only club in the works. Since then, I’ve grown to own seven, which has allowed me to maintain some legitimately clean businesses while limiting the criminal ties to a select few. However, Yuri’s under the impression that I keep my dealings with him from Enzo, who obviously would never allow his associate to maintain opposing ties.

Little does Yuri know, I went to Enzo immediately. It was a huge risk on my part, but there was no way I was going to double-cross the fucking mafia, especially when he’d just saved my ass.

Enzo seized the opportunity to get a leg up. I was to play ball for now, wash his money, put up with his shit. Enzo knew the advantage that came with having a direct line to your enemy’s cash flow, and he wasn’t going to prematurely blow his load with this.

That’s the main difference between Yuri and Enzo. Yuri rules with fear and strong shows of dominance. Enzo is a strategist. He’ll let you think you’re winning and then slit your throat as you’re crossing the finish line, where he’s been waiting for you all along.

“Is there a reason you summoned me to my club you broke into?” A cloud of smoke exhales from my lungs. “Because I gotta admit, Yuri, I’m a grumpy fuck on a typical morning, so I’m exceptionally pissy today.”

Yuri snaps his fingers, signaling one of his guys to step forward. A large ogre looking motherfucker approaches, slapping down copies of the same images Nicky came waving at me only an hour before.

My face remains neutral, realizing the best way to play this is to feign complete indifference. “What’s your point?”

Yuri lurches forward, pressing his index finger atop the photos. “That is his baby sister!” His head gestures to Nicky.

“I used to stick my dick in her. I’m aware.”

“Motherfucker,” Nicky seethes, glaring at me from the corner of his eye.

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