Beautiful Russian Monster (A Vancouver Mafia Romance Book 2)
Beautiful Russian Monster: Chapter 7

I placed my two loaded weapons on top of the towel rack and quickly stripped down. I stepped into the tepid water and welcomed the shock to my body. I need to jerk off. My thought caught me off guard, and I could feel my nuts tighten slightly in anticipation.

I turned the warm water completely off and blasted myself with ice water for a good thirty seconds before all thoughts of sex dissipated.

I started to scrub myself down with the sliver of soap that Blaire had left me. My body ached with fatigue, but we needed to eat and stock up on supplies. The easiest way out of the country would be by boat. For enough cash, someone would be willing to risk smuggling us into Vietnam.

After precisely three minutes, I turned off the water and quickly got dressed. When I opened the bathroom door, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting.

I looked around the room. “Let’s go.”

We exited the hotel. The night market was only ten blocks away, but there were no sidewalks in Cambodia and the cars and trucks pushed the cyclists to the very edge of the road.

Blaire had perfectly pedicured feet that were adorned in the cheap flip-flops I had bought her. Despite not wanting to be seen by too many people, I put my hand to my mouth and gave a sharp whistle at the cab that was approaching.

The sound made her start, and her hand flew to her chest. “Seriously.”

A taxi did a U-turn and pulled up beside us.

The drive was only a couple of minutes. When we got out at the start of the street that was blocked off for the market, she scrambled out of the taxi and stood looking in wonder.

“What is this place?”

“We need food.”

She sniffed the air. “Something smells amazing.”

I motioned for her to follow me. We passed by two mostly deserted food vendors before getting in line for the busiest vendor.

“Why are we standing in line when there are two food stalls over there that don’t have any customers?”

I could smell the shampoo in her hair. She smelled so fresh. “I follow the locals when I eat. They know the best places.”

She looked intrigued. “That’s clever.”

We got our food and sat down at one of the small side tables. She looked surprisingly comfortable on the red plastic stool. She ate everything I put in front of her with gusto.

She moaned as she bit into something. “This is delicious. Is this how you normally travel?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you go on your vacations, do you travel like this, or do you glam it up a bit?”

“It’s been a while since I took a vacation.”

Her gaze clashed with mine. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“What?”

“Why don’t you take any vacations?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Some of us work, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know that productivity goes up when you take a real break.”

Yeah, I knew that. That’s why I encouraged all our staff to take all their vacation time. But I didn’t like to spend too much time alone when my thoughts could creep in. I preferred to stay busy.

“I was about to take a break when some asshole kidnapped my friends.”

She looked at me with curiosity. “What were you going to do? Did you have a trip planned?”

I debated telling her about my fishing trip, but for some reason I held back. “I travel enough for my job. When I’m not working, I’m good at staying home.”

She eyed me speculatively. “You don’t like to be alone.”

Alarm bells went off in the back of my head as her words struck a nerve. “You done eating?”

“Yes.”

I stood. “Follow me.”

She trailed after me, going so slowly I had to stop a few times and wait for her. I stopped at a bag stand and motioned for her to come over. I tried the knapsack on her before asking the man how much.

He quoted me a reasonable price that I paid before pulling her aside.

I tugged at her new knapsack on her back, adjusting the straps. “This is your real estate. Buy whatever you need in terms of toiletries and clothes to get you through the next five days. You need something for the rain and something for the heat. Including a hat.”

Her eyes widened with joy. “Are you seriously letting me go shopping?”

“The caveat is that you have ten minutes.”

She stood there, looking around the market. “I need fifteen.”

My knee-jerk reaction was to argue, but she’d probably spend five minutes debating my decision, so what did it matter? “Fine. You’ve got fifteen minutes but not a second more.”

She still stood there. I ground my teeth. This was going to take all night. “Why are you just standing there?”

She didn’t look at me, merely raised her hand to stop me from speaking further. “I know how to shop. Let me shine.”

The next fifteen minutes were enlightening. I followed her as she wove her way through the crowd, walking with purpose. She would stop in front of a booth and assess the fabric, the stitch, and the quality of the material. Her quiet perusal had the merchants tripping over themselves. She would ask the price and would hold it up to herself in the mirror before turning to me, asking me for a specific amount.

“Ten dollars, please.”

“Fifteen dollars, please.”

They would hand her the clothes, and she would whip them away into her pack and move forward.

By the time she was finished, she had bought three sarongs, a couple of tank tops, underwear, a white pair of knockoff Converse runners and two more pairs of long cotton pants. She also bought a jacket shell and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. Then she disappeared into the pharmacy.

I stood inside the front of the store and gave her money and privacy. She chatted pleasantly with the English-speaking clerk as she tucked her mysterious purchases into her bag.

She stopped in front of me. “Time?”

I checked my watch. “It’s been thirteen minutes.”

She looked around. “I’m done.”

“What about your hat?”

She shrugged. “I can wear the baseball hat.”

We started walking back through the markets. Darkness had fallen, and the market was aglow with hanging lights and with the sounds of laughter, people talking and the occasional dog barking. Cooking smells, incense smoke and burning oil floated heavy in the air. It all felt so familiar. It was a part of my past that I hated, so why did I feel so damn nostalgic?

For reasons even I didn’t understand, I stopped her when we passed a kiosk lined with traditional conical bamboo hats.

“Oh, look. Paper journals.” She bent over the counter and picked one up. “The cover is hand-embroidered. I love this!”

I lifted a hat off the wall, and when she stood up, I motioned for her to put it on.

She frowned as she bent down to look into the little table mirror. “I feel silly wearing this.”

She looked adorable. “It’s a great disguise.”

“So is the baseball hat.”

I handed the woman money for the journal, a pencil, and the hat. “This will keep you cool.”

The woman said something to Blaire, and Blaire laughed and shook her head. It took me a second to realize I hadn’t understood their conversation.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You understand her?”

“She knows Mandarin.”

“And you do?”

She shrugged off my question and instead listened intently to the woman.

I watched them converse before I butted in. “What’s she saying?”

She wrinkled her nose. “She says a big storm is going to hit the coast of the Philippines.”

I motioned for her to move. “Let’s go.”

The woman continued to talk, and Blaire listened. “She said that it’s going to be a typhoon, with hurricane winds, that will hit the Philippines directly.”

“Good thing we’re not going there. Come on, pack it up.”

She took her sweet-ass time saying goodbye to the woman and then fussed with the straps on her shoulders.

Impatiently, I looked at her. “What’s the problem?”

“The straps are too long. I need to take my bag off. Hang on.”

I stepped in front of her and yanked her closer to me by the straps of her bag, liking her little gasp a bit too much. I focused on tightening the straps on her bag. “How’s that?”

She sounded breathless. “Fine, thank you.”

I motioned for her to walk.

Her look was glazed with reproach. “Are you always in a rush?”

“Are you always this slow?”

“I just did all my shopping for five days in thirteen minutes. I don’t think slow should be a word used to describe me.”

I grabbed her arm to move her along faster and tried not to notice how soft her upper arm was. “Walk and talk.”

“Bossy.”

When we got back to the room, I didn’t get undressed, nor did I remove my guns. I simply lay down on the top of my bed, with my boots still on, and shut my eyes.

“Are you sleeping like that?”

“Yes,” I lied.

“I wanted to get my bag organized.”

“Go for it.”

“Will you shoot me if I’m moving around?”

“Make it quick.”

I lay there with my eyes shut, listening as she rustled through her stuff. I cracked open my eyes and watched as she rolled her clothes and tucked her new purchases carefully into her bag. I figured someone like her would snub her nose at the clothes she had bought today, but she seemed to be taking care of the items. As long as I might live, I would never understand the opposite sex. I shut my eyes when she moved across the room to hang her bag on one of the hooks on the wall.

“Hit the lights,” I growled.

The lights went out, and I could hear her undress in the dark. Her bed springs creaked as she climbed into the small cot beside mine. “What happens tomorrow?”

“I need sleep,” I growled. “Quiet.”

She took her sweet-ass time falling asleep. I lay there, fighting my own fatigue, while she tossed and turned. Finally, her breath steadied and slowed. I waited fifteen minutes more before I used all my willpower to drag myself out of bed. Without making a sound, I grabbed my bag and silently let myself out of the room.

For her own protection, I needed to make sure that no one realized she was alone. Instead of going down to the lobby, I moved up the stairs and out onto the third-story roof. I looked over the edge. There was no easy way down, but the building next door was only two meters over and probably my best bet. Starting from the middle of the roof, I did a running leap over the edge. I felt my body fly down one story, and then the roof was coming up beneath my feet. Pure instinct made me tuck hard and roll into my landing. I rolled into a crouch and paused. I waited, listening, but there seemed to be no one around. I spotted an exterior fire escape. Another minute and I was down on street level.

I crossed the street and stood in the shadows for another twenty minutes and watched the front of our hotel. I saw no movements, no unsavory characters entering the hotel. I was almost certain that no one had seen me leave. Regardless, I was taking a risk leaving her alone in the room—I needed to move fast. I stuck to the shadows while I quickly walked down to the marina.

As expected, there was a small outdoor bar for the fishermen across the street from the wharf. Filled with locals only, the place fell silent as I walked across the courtyard and took a seat with my back to the other patrons.

The bartender moved over to me. “Can I help you?”

I slid him a hundred-dollar bill. “A round of drinks for everyone in your establishment.”

He eyed the money with suspicion. “What do you want?”

“If anyone is interested in giving me a private cruise to Vietnam, they should come talk to me. Otherwise, they should just enjoy their drink and I’ll leave.”

He gave a short nod. “Okay.”

Twenty minutes later he came back. “A lot of people enjoyed their drink.”

No one had come forward, but that didn’t mean no one was interested. I just needed to show I had money to spend. I pushed another hundred toward him. “Maybe they want a second round?”

This time he smiled. “I think that’s a good idea.”

It took three rounds of drinks before he came back to me. “Skipper might be interested. He has a boat at the end of the dock. You would do better if you brought him a gift.”

“Whatever you think best.”

I knew he was taking advantage of the situation, but that’s how the game was played. I didn’t take it personally. He charged me double for two big bottles of rum and then sent me on my way.

The rickety dock was long and narrow, and it bobbed with each wave swell. I lurched my way down to the end, toward the lone boat that still had a light on.

I moved toward the center of the dock and walked heavily. “Hello? Anyone there?”

A head popped up. The young blond guy stood with a revolver pointed at my chest.

“Nice gun,” I said and lifted the bottles into the air. “Bartender said you might be thirsty.”

He nodded and spoke with an Australian accent. “Put them down on my boat.”

I set them down on the edge of his boat and then lifted both of my hands above my head before I slowly stood up. “You’re all about security. I appreciate that.”

“Heard you needed something.”

“You heard correctly.”

“What do you need?”

“Safe passage to Vietnam. Food, water and a place to sleep.”

“How many?”

“Myself and a woman.”

“Are you carrying any contraband?”

“Just a few guns. We’re not smuggling anything. We’ve lost our passports.”

He stared at me for a long moment and then lowered his weapon. “Figured.”

“Can you help us out?”

“When do you want to leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Five thousand cash, which will include the cost of supplies and bribes, but I’m gonna need one thousand up front.”

I wasn’t in a position to negotiate, and we both knew it. I handed him a roll of hundreds and watched as he counted it. “How long will this trip take?”

“With the water levels the way they are now, and waiting for the right guard at the border, roughly eight hours, maybe a bit longer.”

“We need bottled water and decent food.”

“I’ll take care of you.”

The guy was a complete amateur, but I didn’t have a lot of options. “What time will you be ready?”

He looked at his watch. “I’ll be ready by 6 a.m.”

I checked my watch. That was four hours from now. “See you then.”

I silently let myself into the room. I stood and listened in the dark. Over the hum of the AC unit, I could hear Blaire’s steady breath.

My watch read 2:30 a.m. If I was lucky, I’d get a solid three hours of shut-eye before we had to move out.

I kicked off my boots and pulled off my T-shirt, but I kept my pants on. I collapsed on the bed. I let out a long sigh and shut my gritty eyes. I took three long breaths and felt myself drifting into oblivion.

“Where did you go?” Her whisper jolted me awake.

“Blaire,” I warned.

“I woke up, and you were gone.”

“I had to take care of some things.”

“Like?”

I was desperate for some quiet. “Go. To. Sleep.”

“Did you go drinking?”

“What?”

She sounded slightly injured. “If you needed to replace companionship I’m not going to judge, but I wish you would have told me you were leaving.”

“I wasn’t with a woman.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything.”

I shut my eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. “If I tell you where I went, will you let me sleep?”

“Yes.”

“I was replaceing a way for us to travel to Vietnam.”

I could hear sheets rustle as she sat up. “You did? How are we getting there?”

“Blaire, when I’m tired, I’m not a pleasant guy.”

“You must be tired a lot.”

I wasn’t in the mood, and my tone bit. “Blaire.”

“Just tell me.”

“We’re taking a boat.”

“What time are we leaving?”

“Three hours.”

“Why do we have to leave so early?”

“I’m done warning you.”

“Okay, you don’t have to be mean about it,” she snapped back. I was glad the lights were off because I was almost laughing. Blaire Asterdam wasn’t afraid of me. I don’t know why that amused me so much, but it did.

I could hear her lie back down. Amazingly, within moments, she was asleep again.

Thank fuck. I was so tired. I shut my eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.