Page 2 of Escaping the Bratva

V

I squint at the sunlight as I walk out of the concrete cage that has kept me miserable for the last five years.

“We’re going to miss you around here,” Cambers, the guard, says as he holds the door open for me.

I snort. “Yeah fucking right.”

I’ve caused so many fights I’m surprised my sentence didn’t get doubled. If I added it all up, I’m sure I spent ‌one year in isolation. Once the other inmates found out who I was, there was always at least one guy who wanted to ‌take me on. They tried to test my toughness. It was always a mistake on their part, but that part of my life is over now.

“Stay clean out there, man.”

I nod before stepping out onto the concrete. Chambers closes the door behind me with a clunk. Fuck, I’m finally free. Not just from prison, but from the shitty life I’d carved out for myself so many years ago. I was at the top of my game when I got myself arrested. I’ve always known the criminal life wouldn’t last forever. I’m too old to be dodging bullets all the fucking time, anyway.

“Don’t you look like one sorry son of a bitch.” Marcello stands in front of a black Mustang with his arms and legs crossed. He wears a plain dark T-shirt that stretches across his Black skin and jeans. I clutch the trash bag with all of my belongings as I head towards him. I slap his hand and pat him on the back. “Thanks for picking me up, man.”

Marcello had been there for me during my entire sentence. He came to visit me regularly so we could talk about our new business, and he’d put money in my account so I could buy the shit I needed from the commissary. Friends like him didn’t come around often.

“No problem. I’m glad to see you out in the sunlight.”

I take a dramatic deep breath in. “Smells like freedom.”

He laughs and pushes up from the car. “Get in.”

He walks around to the driver’s side, and I fold myself into the black leather seat of the Mustang. I throw the black trash bag in the backseat, ready to toss the entire thing in a dumpster the next chance I get. There wasn’t anything worth a damn inside it anyway. The clothes I’d gotten arrested in were too small for me now. I’ve spent the last five years building up my body to even bigger than it was before. Plus, with the new business Marcello and I had going, it was good for me to look intimidating. We pull out onto the street.

“I got your room set up at my place so you don’t have to worry about anything for a while.”

I nod. “Thanks, man, but I’m trying to find my ‌spot as soon as fucking possible.”

“You have money?” Marcello asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I knew I would get locked up. I have money tucked away. First thing I need to do is get a place and a car, and then I can invest everything else into Uplift Security.”

Marcello runs one hand over his short, tightly curled hair. “Damn, man, how much you got stashed?”

I shrug. “Enough.”

I’d gotten arrested by helping set up another underground crime lord. I worked with the FBI to take the guy down, and in exchange, I only got five years.

For the shit I’ve done, I should have gotten life or maybe even the electric chair. That’s how I figured my life would end, but once the opportunity to work with the feds came up, I knew this was the chance to make shit right. My chance to actually do something with the rest of my life.

I lean my head back against the headrest as we merge onto the highway.

“I have big plans for this business. I can show them to you tomorrow‌. We can start planning out how to launch.”

“Let's do it today,” I say. I’m tired of waiting. We’ve been talking about creating this business for the last two years. Marcello has been getting everything set up while I’ve been behind bars, and now, we can finally open up and start taking clients. The business was simple: We'd provide bodyguard protection to high profile people and take care of any other security needs they might have.

“You don’t want to take a day? Get some real food in your stomach first? Maybe get some pussy?”

I laugh. “There’s only one girl I want pussy from right now.”

I look over to see Marcello roll his eyes. He’s had to hear me talk about Sasha for the last five years. As soon as I realized I had a second chance to make my life right, I knew I had to get my girl back.

“What if she’s married?” he asks.

“Good question. I guess we need to find out. She’ll be our first client. I want to find out everything about her.”

Marcello hired a nerdy computer guy to work for the company a couple weeks ago. According to Marcello, he could find out anything about anybody. We haven’t had any work for him to do since the company isn’t officially open yet, but this is the perfect chance to put him to the test.

---