Page 27 of Dirty Quinn
This is another reason coming to America was such a culture shock for Katya and me. When women raised in a democracy complain about their lack of right or choice, I welcome them to join me in a totalitarian society. At least then, they can experience what a true luxury they have already.
Speaking of women, it’s how I’ll get to Andrei. Because he’s a complete sucker for them. Like he’s stupid about it. When I put two my girls on him, it won’t take much to isolate and overpower him. He will follow them like the dog in heat that he is.
The problem will be in taking him away from wherever he’s at. Andrei doesn’t go anywhere anymore without at least six guys with him spread amongst three SUVs. And he’s constantly switching which SUV he rides in. As though his life is so important, it’s in constant danger. And maybe it is. Not of value, but in jeopardy at all times.
That’s what happens when you make plans to take down your oldest, most generous and loyal of friends/employers: you suspect everyone around you of foul play. You believe what you are. So, the more duplicitous Andrei is, the more suspicious he becomes.
His behavior is so textbook it’s almost laughable. Along with his routine. Because if you watch Andrei for any length of time, you realize what a creature of habit he is. Right down to which SUV in the line of three he will travel in.
For someone who thinks he’s so puzzling, his transparency could not be clearer. Case in point, Andrei visits his club with such frequency, if you weren’t paying attention, you’d think he never leaves. But he does. Every night just before closing. And always with at least one of his girls in tow. And more than likely one in each SUV.
He’ll start the trip in the third truck, stopping midway through to transfer to the first. At night he rarely travels in the middle vehicle. As though he thinks that would be the obvious target, so he avoids it. During the day, it’s a different story.
And if any of his men have any sense, they would caution him against such folly. Though it’s possible they already have, and Andrei being the savant he is, has ignored their advice, probably even punished them for it, and proceeded with his own far less thought out plan.
But it’s that same predictability that will be his downfall. Because I don’t care which one of my girls it is, Andrei will fall sucker to every one of them.
And when he does, we strike.
14
Mack
I’m in that half-awake zone where I still have dreams, but I’m also partially aware of what’s going on around me. Like I know that Daria is awake and watching me. I even know that she’s restless and wants to get up or do something but refrains for fear of waking me.
But it doesn’t stop me from keeping my eyes shut and drifting back into my dreams, given the opportunity. Not that my dreams are altogether pleasant. I go back and forth between Herculean efforts leading to success to utter and complete failure leading to the death of life as I know it. All of it surrounding the FBI and my involvement in it combined with Daria’s lifestyle and whether I can adequately protect her from law enforcement.
Not that I regret my decision to leave my job.
What I’m choosing to coin as a leave of absence. At least as far as I’ll tell Daria. Of course, I have yet to tell her anything about it. As far as she’ll know, it’s a leave of absence. With the option to return whenever I’d like. I know I won’t return. This is the point of NO when it comes to that.
It shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone at the bureau. At least not the chief. He already knows that partnering me with Andrews would not go over well. Not to mention Reed’s abrupt departure. All combined with the fact that it was never really my jam to begin with. Was I good at it? Fuck yes. Did I want to move up within the organization? Fuck no. So, is there anywhere to go at that point? Also, fuck no.
Which mostly means that I’m justGroundhog Day-ing it, time and time again. And that’s not what I had in mind for my life—the same shit on a different day. But after so long in the military, it’s hard to get used to that. And truth be told, I don’t really want to. I’m not designed to be a desk jockey anyway. I need air and sun and sky in my day. Not a bureaucratic ceiling so high no one can see over it.
Despite knowing me as well as he does, the chief still feigned surprise when I told him. I say feigned because he’s a smart man. And a man with any modicum of intelligence should not have been surprised by my decision. And I haven’t told Daria yet because I don’t want to freak her out.
Even though she tolerated my constant vigil at the hospital and didn’t balk at any of my talk of the future, she would still freak the fuck out over my leaving my career to take care of her. She will not be thinking of herself as an invalid or anything short of fully capable. But she could have died. While her injuries are no longer life-threatening, they could have been and almost were. So, for her to make light of them is not okay to me.
And her safety and well-being are hands down the most important thing to me. Which is why leaving a career I wasn’t head over heels for anyway, doesn’t really impact me. I have stopped to consider if it should impact me, but at the same time, I don’t care. Isn’t this what carpe diem is all about? Seize the day, have no regrets, you only live once, all that shit.
And I can’t deny the sense of peace that filled my soul when I made my decision and told the chief. And really, isn’t that how you always know you’ve made the right choice?
I’m still pretending to sleep for a moment or two longer. I feel good right now. I don’t have to admit to Daria that I’m about to commandeer her life; I get to avoid acknowledging that she’s still in a hospital bed with a cast and bandages and never-ending bruise. And my girl gets to watch me and hopefully get used to the fact that I’m not going anywhere. And she needs that time to wrap her head around a life with me. Not because it’s me, but because she is the epitome of an independent loner.
Letting someone into her life means she needs them. And to her, needing is weak. I don’t take this relationship, her choice to be with me, lightly at all, and my whole purpose from here forward is to prove myself worthy of her and her heart.
I’m not going to lie, there’s a part of me that is tickled over helping Daria and the girls with this whole fucking ridiculous bullshit of a plan Ronin has asked of them. I haven’t been able to get my hands dirty without a crisis of conscience since I joined the bureau. So, to return to an attitude of no holds barred is welcome.
I can assist the girls with this, and in the future, with whoever they plan to take down. At the risk of sounding sexist, I think they could use a man on their little team. Not that they would ever agree with me, on principle alone. But, let’s face it, I am stronger than they are. I am more imposing. And I believe I can inflict just as much harm. These girls are all completely badass. Daria ensures it when she trains them. So even though they know ways to take a guy my size down, I can still prepare for it given the opportunity. And if I can prepare for it, so can anyone else.
Though, the other day, when the girls were here, I jokingly told Roxie to bring it. And she offered to meet me in the ring. I told her anytime, anywhere. And I meant it. Except that now that I think about it without my ego getting involved, I wonder if it was a smart choice. What if I’m wrong and she beats the crap out of me? If I’m going to join these girls, I need to know what they are capable of. No holding back.
“I can tell you are awake.” Daria’s voice is groggy even though she’s been awake for a while. “Your eyes keep moving under your lids, and your brain is smoking with all the thoughts churning and burning inside.”
I smile before raising my lids to focus on her. “Hey, you got that analogy right.”
She jerks her head to the side in a gesture that acknowledges and dismisses my comment at the same time.
