Page 19 of Nurse for the Russian Mafia

“He’s only forty-two, you moron,” I snap. “And he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

“Yeah,” Dirk snaps, “I guess we’ll see about that!”

All at once, Dirk and his friends leap at Alexander. I jump back in shock. But I can’t look away. I won’t let myself.

There are five of them including Dirk, and only one of Alexander. I take my phone out, wondering if I need to call 911. But then, Alexander is in the Bratva, surely he won’t want me to call the police. It’s just so difficult to know what to do.

But then Alexander ducks under Dirk’s punch and elbows him in the stomach. Alexander moves like a lion sprinting at its prey, so fast it’s hard for my eyes to track him. It’s clearly too fast for Dirk too, because when he makes to hit him again, Alexander is there with a jab to his face.

Two of Dirk’s friends leap at him, but Alexander just punches one in the chest, causing him to gasp and sputter. The other tries to retreat but it’s too late. Alexander grabs his arm and throws him into the air, bringing him in a wide overarching movement that sends him right into a table. He jumps forward, grabbing Dirk by the throat and lifts him one-handed off the floor. Dirk’s feet flap around as he tries to find purchase.

With his other hand, Alexander backhands another man as he goes to pick up a bottle to use as a weapon.

“Anybody else want to insult my woman?” Alexander roars, his voice making them shiver. Dirk’s cheeks are going red as all the blood rushes from his brain. Alexander’s shirt is straining under the pressure of his bulging forearm muscle. “Well?”

Dirk’s so-called friends run away, sprinting for the exit, not even glancing back to see if their ringleader is going to be okay. Dirk tries to say something, but Alexander’s vice-like grip is too strong.

Slowly, Alexander puts him down. He’s in control the whole time. Blood splatters one of the tables, but none of it is Alexander’s. If they thought because he had the years of experience under his belt, that he’d be any less competent, they were dead-wrong.

“Apologize to her,” Alexander snarls. “And mean it. I’ll know if you don’t.”

I step forward, feeling like the queen Alexander is always telling me I am. “Well?” I hiss.

“I’m truly sorry,” Dirk whispers, voice hoarse. “You’re right. I’ve always felt small, pathetic. And I guess…Jesus, my throat…I guess bullying you let me believe I wasn’t such a worthless piece of shit. But I am so, so sorry for what I did to you in high school.”

“Samantha?” Alexander glances at me. “What would you like to do?”

I turn up my nose and look down at him, letting him know who’s in charge here. Then I wave a hand and nod at the door. “Let him go…for now.”

He shivers in fright and skitters away like the insect he is. Alexander turns to me, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me firmly. Neither of us cares that everybody is staring at us. They’re too scared to approach, anyway.

“I love you,” he whispers, squeezing me tight.

“Really?” I gasp. “I love you, too. I was so scared to tell you.”

“You never have to be scared to tell me anything,” he growls. “I love you, and we’re going to make this right. Let’s go and see your father so we can settle this mess. Because then, my sweet Samantha, I have something to ask you.”

Chapter Fifteen

Alexander

When Samantha and I return to her house, we walk in to find Virgil sitting at the kitchen table with a photograph of Samantha’s mother laid out before him. We walk quietly up behind him, and I feel a note of sorrow for my friend.

She walked out when Samantha was so young, a wild woman who didn’t want to live a domestic life. She threw away the comforts and the excitement of raising a child, being a wife, having a life partner to support her in her career, for…

For nothing, really.

The last I heard about her, she was out west somewhere, doing things I don’t like to imagine women doing. Sexuality is to be explored within the freedom-giving confines of a relationship, not just tossed about randomly, pointlessly. Then it loses all meaning.

Virgil glances up at us, blinking away tears. “She left me,” he whispers, his voice slurred with the whisky. I wonder how much more he drank after we left. “And now I’m scared, Samantha, I’m so scared you’re going to do the same.”

“Oh, Dad,” Samantha says, sitting down and placing her hand on his. “Just because Alexander and I love each other, just because we’re meant for each other, it doesn’t mean I’m just going to disappear from your life, silly.”

I sit down next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “The same goes for me. If anything, you’ll see me more than you have in years,” I chuckle. “I’m not sure if you’ll like that, but there it is.”

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