Chapter 28

A Bad Night Gets Worse

Translated from Russian to English, lyubov moya means ‘my love’. It’s what Jon was shouting as he hurriedly entered the hotel room. He was about to explain how he’d made a huge mistake and they needed to leave immediately. He was confronted by a sight that nearly shattered what was left of his tainted soul.

During his early childhood, he had watched helplessly as his sister had been sexually violated by their father, then spent more time being manipulated into learning to enjoy doing it himself by the doctor who was supposed to be curing their dysfunctions. Even as they developed into serial killers, dependent upon murder to express their true love to one another physically, he swore that no other man should have her. That vow had just been broken.

Nathan was still wearing his dress shirt, but his pants were collapsed around his ankles. In front of him, Clarissa was bent over, holding onto the bed as he held the side of her left butt cheek in one hand and his gun in the other.

Since Jon had announced his entry, Nathan knew he was there. “Your money is on the dresser, motherfucker! I know y’all lied about those dick pills, but that’s okay, because this shit right here feels good as hell!” When Jon drew a gun from his waist, Nathan hardly seemed to mind. “That there is bad customer service, pimp! Least you can do is let me nut! Now, put that thing away before I shoot you both. I’m not just some nigger off the street. I’m a retired cop.”

Jon fired, hitting Nathan in the shoulder. Nathan turned to answer Jon with bullets of his own, slipping out of Clarissa in the process. With him distracted, she straightened up and knocked the gun out of Nathan’s hand. As he pivoted towards her, Clarissa slammed him in his wet, condom covered penis with her knee. With pain in his groin and shoulder, and his feet being tangled in his pants, Nathan fell backwards. He screamed as his bare tailbone hit the floor.

“Don’t fire the gun anymore! We have to kill him with our hands” Clarissa shouted at Jon before she turned and leaped at Nathan, striking him in the temple. His quick response was to backhand her so hard that she went flying away from him. Regrettably for Nathan, Jon had cut the distance between the two of them much quicker than he’d thought possible.

Without letting go of his gun, Jon caught his sister and guided her descent back towards the bed and out of his way. Then, he kicked Nathan in the groin as if he were attempting a field goal. The blow all but ripped away Nathan’s testicles.

Paralyzed by the excruciating agony, Nathan had run out of answers, luck and time. The siblings fell on him beating him with their fists and the butt of Jon’s gun. They ignored his dying gasp and continued to beat his corpse until bruises became open wounds that coated their brutal hands with hot blood. Then suddenly, satisfied with their kill, their tableau achieved, they began a deep, passionate kiss.

They may have continued if not for the banging on the outside door. “That must be Yuri!” Jon said as he broke the kiss. He rushed to the door and opened it. The look on Yuri’s face as he took in Jon’s visage, bloody and out of breath, spoke volumes.

“We have to fucking leave!” Yuri hissed as he looked Jon up and down. “If I heard the gun go off, others did too. The police will probably be here any minute. Do you have the device with you?”

“Yes!” In his gut, Jon realized that Yuri had achieved a huge negotiating edge over him.

“Well turn it on! Now! It might be the only thing that gets us out of this!”

Jon’s head whipped back inside the room, where his sister had already run into the bathroom and was frantically washing blood off herself and yanking her clothes back on. He left Yuri holding the door open as he ran inside, found the camera blocking device and turned it on.

Yuri, against his better judgment grabbed one of the four bags that the Ratkeviches had brought with them and headed back towards the elevator.

It took them slightly more than two minutes, but they managed to get most of the obvious bloodstains off themselves before finally exiting the room and walking to join Yuri in front of the elevator. In their wake, they left Nathan’s lifeless body and a trail of red and pink hotel towels.

“We’ve gotten sloppy!” Clarissa lamented.

“We will be away soon,” Jon reassured as they boarded the elevator.

They crossed the lobby without incident, as there was no one standing at the check-in counter and the people in the bar were still partying and blissfully unaware of what was happening.

“We will have to call an Uber,” Yuri explained.

“What happened to the limo?” Jon asked, his face filled with alarm. “Being this close to the device, your cellphone may not even work! We will be stuck here, you idiot! Why would you send the limo away?”

Yuri was infuriated for being called an idiot. “Those women saw the limo! And since I didn’t know your sister was upstairs killing someone, I thought we would be able to slip out of here quicker than this. What the fuck is wrong with the two of you, anyway.”

If Jon felt compelled to answer that question, the impulse quickly dissolved, as they stepped outside to be confronted by more trouble.

The four women who had witnessed Jon knock Monique out had bravely returned and were roughly twenty feet from the front of the hotel. One of them stood slightly apart from the rest, apparently on her cellphone with a 911 operator. Two others stood nearby with worrisome looks on their faces as they watched their fourth companion kneeling at Monique’s side. Number four talked to Monique soothingly, telling her she was going to be okay. Monique seemed to be only half-heartedly paying attention to the Fourth Woman as she ran a hand across her face and mouth, checking for swelling and loose teeth.

The woman who’d called the 911 operator was not a native to New York. For that reason, she struggled to explain where they were. “I don’t see any street signs. Can’t you guys just trace my cellphone or something? This lady is hurt pretty bad.”

Woman number two was the first to spot them coming out of the elevator. “Oh, my God, that’s them! Someone take a picture! Quick!”

Woman Number Three raised her phone and tried to do as her friend suggested. “Fucking app isn’t working!”

“Of course, it isn’t,” Yuri taunted as he waved his gun in the air again. “Have a good night ladies!”

As the women reacted by ducking or flinching at the sight of the gun, Yuri led Jon and Clarissa around to the back of the hotel, where the threesome proceeded to head towards 11^th Avenue. After a brisk walk, they reached a corner where they spied a gas station. Standing at pump number eight was a man, scruffy and disheveled, possibly Pakistani. He was gassing up a yellow taxi.

They quickened their pace and dodged oncoming traffic as they made their way across the avenue and called out to him. “Sir, we need to get to a hospital quickly!”

“Hospital?” The cabdriver looked as if he’d smelled something foul. “I cannot help you, my friend. I am off duty.”

Yuri and Jon stepped forward and pointed their guns at his head. “You are officially back on duty! Friend!” Yuri sneered.

The cabdriver was surprisingly dismissive. “My friend, we are in a gas station. There are cameras everywhere! You cannot be serious!”

Jon shot first, then Yuri. The cabdriver fell dead to the ground, a growing pool of blood forming under what was left of his head.

In less than an hour, this murderous group had killed two men. A feat that might have been commonplace for the Ratkeviches, but Yuri was not a serial killer. Yes, he’d killed people before, but those people died for the sake of business and nothing more. Yuri was a gangster and a career criminal, who up until that night had survived his life choices by adhering to certain practicalities, despite his reputation as an unpredictable sort. He was doing what he felt he had to do to get out of this mess, but he was not happy about how things had progressed. The fact that the cameras were blocked was a great thing, but he knew he was exposing himself far more than he should be. He needed to get control of things and he needed to do it right away.

***

“Get in the backseat, you two. I will drive.” Yuri shoved his gun in his pants and disengaged the gas nozzle.

Jon and Clarissa did as he’d instructed, even as they all separately glimpsed the gas station attendant crouching behind his counter, peeking out through the bulletproof glass with a cellphone pressed to the side of his face.

“Hurry!” Clarissa said, forgetting for an instant that she was supposed to play a demure victim of circumstance around Yuri, a man whose ingrained sexism would have made partnering with him even more difficult if he were to realize that she was the one who controlled Jon and not the other way around.

Caught up in his growing uneasiness, her words failed to trigger any of Yuri’s ‘keep women in their place’ reflexes. “Your grasp of the obvious is quite remarkable,” was his only retort as he put the car in drive and after swerving the car enough to avoid getting the cabdriver’s blood on the wheels, took off for the West Side Highway and what he hoped was a final resolution.

Yuri drove and simultaneously dug up his cellphone, desperate to call Boris and set up a new rendezvous point. He was oblivious to the siblings’ whispered conversation:

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you’d lose control of him. This is the last thing I would have wanted. To have some old, black nigger bastard…” he seemed as if he might cry.

“It’s not your fault. Neither of us knew that he was a retired cop still allowed to carry a gun. I got caught unaware. I knew you would come to save me.” She caressed his face lovingly and they embraced.

In truth, Clarissa’s version of what had transpired between her and Nathan wasn’t entirely accurate. Yes, Nathan’s gun ownership had caught her off guard, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Truthfully, she had rushed him into the bedroom, hiked up her dress and bent over before he’d said more than five words.

Considering himself the honorable sort, Nathan put what he thought was the agreed upon amount of money on a nearby chest o’ drawers, dropped his pants and put on the condom he originally thought was going to be used on Monique. Though there had been talk of the next thing in male enhancement, Nathan had taken a Cialis before he left his house. The sight of Clarissa’s plump, white ass in front of him was all the motivation he needed for blood to flood into his penis almost as well as it did when he was a teenager.

She moaned like a woman who had found Heaven on Earth as he entered her and pushed himself forward until his beer paunch gently bounced against her ass cheeks. She arched her back and matched his rhythm and enthusiasm as he slid in and out of her.

Clarissa listened to Nathan and realized that his age was catching up to him. Not wanting him to reach orgasm before Jon showed up, she asked him to slow down and savor the moment. That’s when she remembered the Glock. “Put the gun to my head,” she purred. “It turns me on.”

Nathan’s gun was attached to the crumpled pants at his feet, so he had to pull his penis out of her to bend down and pick it up. Making sure the safety was on, he put the muzzle to her head, slipped back inside her without having to use his hands and resumed his ramming inside her until Jon arrived.

Clarissa knew Jon would fly into a rage and kill Nathan. She also knew that animal instinct would take over and the first thing he would want to do after killing his apparent rival is prove his virility. After they beat Nathan to death, her body was crying to be fucked into submission by Jon while they bathed in Nathan’s blood. It would have been the ultimate dark sex moment, and her body would have given way to one orgasm after the other until they were both spent and falling into a deep sleep. Had Yuri not shown up with what turned out to be a very justified sense of urgency, that is what would have happened.

At best, she could only hope that the opportunity would rise again soon. But as the stolen cab hurtled down the West Side Highway, she realized it was going to be a while before Jon and she could return to the ‘normal’ way that they did things.