Page 30 of Boss

She had to consider that Daniel was right. She’d gotten in over her head. Even her motives had changed. No longer did she feel disgust and rage toward Tarek. She wasn’t sure what she felt.

There was a knock to the door. It startled her. “Yes?”

“Do you need anything?” A man asked.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ah, yes, I’m fine.”

“Let me in and I can make sure the temperature is comfortable,” he said.

“No thank you, I said I was fine.”

“Thirsty?”

“Go away,” she said and stood.

“I can bring you hot tea. It helps. It gets colder at night. No matter the temperature.”

“I said no, go away.”

There was silence. The person tried the door knob once again.

“I am friend. Open the door.”

Kassidy looked around the room for a weapon. The only thing she could lift and wield was a chair. She walked over to it and grabbed it. The man outside the door kept turning the knob. She was grateful for the lock, but would it hold?

“Your man sent me. To make sure you okay. Protect you, no? Let me in pretty brown lady. I friendly.”

“Go away damn it! I mean it! Get the fuck away from my door!”

She heard a muffled conversation. There was more than one of them. Kassidy heart beat so fast she feared she’d have a stroke. If they came in there would be little she could do to defend herself.

Silence answered. No one else spoke. She walked over to the door as quiet as she could. She put her ear to the door. She waited and she listened. Nothing stirred. No one spoke. Were they gone? Part of her needed confirmation. If she opened the door and took a quick peek she would be less afraid to stay the rest of the night. The daredevil in her that wanted to push toward the danger actually made her hand touch the lock. But the sensible part of her continued to shout the warnings that held her back.

And then she heard it. A man chuckling. He was there. He was waiting. Kassidy backed away from the door expecting it to crash in. He said nothing, but she was certain he wasn’t leaving. She was trapped. She sat in the chair and stared at the door. She didn’t know what else she could do but wait.

10.

Each blow delivered a release of more hatred and frustration. There was a wet crack to the front of the man’s face. Something broke beneath his fist. Blood sprayed from his victim’s nose. The man dropped unconscious. Tarek stood over him with his hands and shirt covered in blood. The blind rage he slipped into had come down on him swiftly.

When the man was thrown at Tarek to fight he did just that. He got to his feet swinging. And he landed a few hits. But fear made his coordination sloppy. Tarek’s counter blows were the precision of a boxer. He forgot the man’s innocent attempt to escape the hell Yegor trapped him into fight. A switch was flipped. Tarek pounded on the man until he was unresponsive and his face covered in blood. He might have killed him if he wasn’t dragged off the poor sap.

Now three men lie in their own blood unconscious. Yegor beat on Alec Dresden and the man next to him for sport. Tarek recovered from his black rage. It was then he saw Yegor unzip his pants. The tall Russian began to piss all over the unconscious men.

Tarek stepped back. Yegor laughed and his men laughed. Yegor put his dick in his pants. He turned and narrowed his eyes on Tarek. “Well done,” he said in Russian.

“This is going to make it hard for us to negotiate with LuxeOil.” Tarek wheezed.

“This? You mean them?” Yegor pointed at the men. He coughed up a thick glob of spit and spat it on one of the men. “Nyet Tarek. This is easy. Accidents happen out here on the rigs all the time. This? This get us a meeting sooner than later.”

Tarek felt a measure of repulsion. Not with Yegor. He felt it with himself. He turned to leave but three men stepped forward and blocked him from doing so. He glanced back at Yegor who was grinning.

“We aren’t done. I told you. It’s a matter of respect. You disrespected me earlier. Remember? Mentioning father the way you did. As if I can’t run this operation without his approval.”

Yegor pulled his blood stained shirt over his head. His torso was covered with a very detailed tattoo of Moscow. He had five bar stars stamped on his shoulders.

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