Page 20 of Ravaged Innocence

“I’m not even sure which bit of hypocrisy to deal with first.” My phone slips from my hand to the middle console and he grabs it before I can.

“You’re not going to the bar, and that’s the end of it.”

“The end of it? This is my job, Luka. You don’t get a say in my job.” I reach for my phone, but he stashes it in a compartment on his door. Unless I want to chance getting us both killed in a wreck jumping over his lap to reach for it, I’m stuck on this side of the car—phoneless.

“Asshole,” I mutter, throwing myself against my seat with my arms folded across my chest.

“Another curse word.” He shakes his head.

“Well, you deserve it,” I throw at him. “You say I can’t go to work because Mario’s dangerous, but you’re driving around New York with a gun in your glove box, another probably strapped to your body, and who knows how many in your trunk!”

He maneuvers the car off the FDR and heads down 57thstreet. It’s a moot point by now anyway. Kevin doesn’t wait long before he moves down the list of waitresses when he has an open shift. It’s probably already gone. Not that any of it matters.

Ugh! Why did I agree to go with Luka? It was so stupid!

Luka is quiet as he pulls into an underground garage and maneuvers the tight turns until he comes to the last floor of parking. It’s a private section, but the gate flies up right when he approaches it. Even parking gates obey the man!

Once he pulls into a spot beside a motorcycle, he kills the engine and turns to me. “Hand me the gun.” He points to the glove box.

“What?” Is he nuts? I don’t want to touch that thing. I was only making a point about his hypocrisy.

“Go on, hand me the gun.” He waves his hand toward the glove box.

I pop it open again, keeping an eye on him for any knee jerk reactions. Carefully, I wrap my hand around the grip and pull it out. It’s heavier than I expected a gun to weigh.

He takes it from me when I offer it to him, and then he goes about popping out the magazine. He quickly checks the chamber to be sure it’s clear, and then he puts the gun in his lap, showing me the magazine. It’s filled with bullets all lined up like good little death pellets ready to make their debut into the world.

“I am dangerous, Pchelka,” he says. “But not because I have a gun in my car, or as you pointed out accurately, several weapons. I’m dangerous because when I point one at someone, it’s to kill them. I don’t hesitate and I don’t fuck around. I’m dangerous because I know what’s going to happen before the other guy.” He puts the magazine back in and places the gun back into the glove box, shutting it before he turns his dark eyes on me. “Mario is dangerous because he’s stupid. He doesn’t think. He has no idea what’s going to happen in the next moment. What’s his next move? He doesn’t know.”

“So, you’re controlled chaos. Is that what you mean?” I’m not sure I’m learning the lesson he wants me to.

“I’m in control, yes. Mario is not. And when a man can’t control himself, he’s more dangerous. Plus, he’s an idiot. That doesn’t help either.” He frowns. “He’s in trouble, Pchelka. He’s made very powerful people angry.”

“He’s made your people angry, so how can that put me in danger?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Stupid men like Mario make dumb decisions when they’re cornered. And he’s cornered right now. So, until he’s been completely dealt with, you’re not going to the bar.”

“So, I can be around you, who you admit is dangerous, but I can’t be around him or anyone else who might be a little off their rocker—which you understand is most of the city.”

“No, Pchelka, you can be with me because I’m not dangerous for you.” He hands my phone over to me. “Text your boss and tell him you need some time off. If he gives you trouble, let him know I’ll be by to see him later to explain.”

“I’m not doing that! I’m an adult, Luka. I don’t have my boyfriend go roughing up my boss to get a vacation.” I start to type out a text to Kevin when I realize what I said. My gaze flies up to his. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, you’re not my boyfriend. We’ve known each other two days, and you’re really bossy. Bossier than I like, and you’ve basically kidnapped me here.”

He grins, like my rambling is the cutest thing he’s seen in his life. Which of course makes me ramble all the more.

“Avery.” He finally stops me. “Text your boss.” He taps my phone.

“I’m losing four shifts at the store, and now you want me to give up my shifts at the bar.” I shake my head. “I can’t do it. You can threaten me with your belt all you want, Luka. I can’t give up Friday and Saturday night tips. I can’t.” I swallow around the fear balled up in my throat, then bring my eyes up to meet his.

His lips are pressed together in a thin line.

“If you work, I go with,” he announces after a long moment.

“You’ll go with me?”

“Yes. If you’re at that bar, I’ll be there too.”

“You’ll play my bodyguard?” I smile, because I’m picturing this mammoth of a man trying to be undetectable in a small bar where nearly everyone knows each other. He might as well wear a neon sign over his head.

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