Page 14 of Nobody Wants Me
I don’t know why she was trying to appease me, not that she needed to.Ivan and Victor were somewhere else, and it left me with The Butcher.
“My room is across the hall.”
“You’re not sharing a room with Victor?”she asked as we stepped into my room.
I paused.I have no idea what I was supposed to say to that.Should I lie?I didn’t feel comfortable lying.Lying got no one anywhere.
“We’re not sharing a room.”
“Okay.”The Butcher followed me into my closet, and she went straight to the vanity table and took a seat.
I stood in my closet with a stranger, and at first I didn’t have a clue what to do.I opened my hands, closed them, and then pressed my lips together.
“Are you afraid?”The Butcher asked.
“Should I be?”
The Butcher laughed.“You have no reason to be afraid.Ivan has not given me an order to kill you, so you’re perfectly safe.”
“He can do that?”
“Honey, I’m sure it is not lost on you that you’re a member of the Volkov Bratva, and shit doesn’t quite work as it did.”
I took a deep breath.“I know.”I expelled.“You know, I’m not used to any of this.I mean, I’m used to my dad being a giant dick to me because he absolutely hates the way I look.I have brown hair, and he wanted me to be blonde.I’ve got brown eyes, and he wanted them to be blue.He tried to get me to have plastic surgery, and I refused.”I stopped.“But I did everything else right.I stayed away.I lived in my little house, and I thought with time he would accept me.”
“Instead, he sold you off, and I’m guessing he didn’t even give you a heads up?”The Butcher asked.
“Yeah,” I said, and then laughed.“I mean, I’m talking to a woman called The Butcher, and I doubt you have anything to do with knowing different cuts of meat.”
She threw back her head and laughed.“I do, actually,” she said.
“You do?”
She nodded her head.“Yep, I can give you any cut of meat you would like.”She shrugged.“I like learning new skills.”Again, another shrug.
“You like learning how to cut meat, and I prefer to know how to install an invisible zipper.”I picked a dress off the hanger and showed her what I mean.“An invisible zipper means you don’t see it from the right side of the fabric.I mean, if it’s done well.With some of my earlier ones, there was no point in me using an invisible zipper because you could clearly see it.”
“You talk a lot more when you’re nervous, don’t you?”
This made me press my lips together.Was I talking too much?
“I don’t mind,” The Butcher said.
If she didn’t mind, why did she bring it up?
So, for the next hour, we stayed on safer subjects, and I showed this woman, who I didn’t know, all the items of clothing I still kept after so many years.Some of them were very old and still fit.There were a few items I did have to let go.But all in all, it was not bad for fifteen years of sewing.
Slowly, and I know this is strange, but I started to get used to her.Talking to The Butcher was like being close to an old friend.It made no sense.I didn’t know this woman, and yet I liked being around her.
When I talked, she didn’t stifle a yawn.She didn’t look down at her watch, or even off into a completely different direction as if she was staring into nothing.I don’t know if she was just being nice, or if she was just a damn good liar.
