Fist To The Heart Ch 02

Chapter Two - It's A Deal

Ruslan knew he was in terrible need of a shower, but he could not afford a detour to take one at home. He checked his phone and tsked in displeasure. The message was clear enough.

"Let's just go sort up some mess," he murmured to himself.

The reason why he preferred cabs, when he was alone, although the old man had told him to have a driver and a car to wait on him at all times, was that he didn't want to draw unnecessary attention. To anyone looking, he was just a guy stumbling out some booze joint, a little too early, but every bit messed up to need a ride home.

Ruslan hailed the cab passing by, and the driver pulled the car close to the sidewalk. Ah, he was going to regret his earlier encounter a bit, he winced as he sat on the back seat and felt right away a small stab of discomfort. He gave the driver the address for the Efige's headquarters, and, as the car began rolling, and the engine started humming, he let his mind wander to the evening's events.

All right, so he had been reckless. He hadn't thought of making things clear with Snake first hand. Apparently, he had been too cocky and sure of his charms, to consider working out the kinks first.

Ruslan shifted in his place. It wasn't like this was his first time getting thoroughly fucked, but it had been a while. Yanis was away on some business, and they hadn't even spoken in weeks. By now, the guy must have returned. The fact that he had been back home probably for days now and hadn't called was making Ruslan feel a bit odd. Not pissed, not sad, because he was no hopeless romantic, and he wasn't nurturing any dreams related to his longtime friend anyway. But definitely odd. Like he had misplaced his favorite shirt and couldn't find it, although he had plenty of other shirts to wear.

His fingers hovered over the phone, as he scrolled through the numbers. Typically, on any other night, Ruslan would have just called and asked Yanis if he was around. But the truth was he didn't need Yanis, which was rather peculiar. Yanis almost never refused him, and there had been times when Ruslan had hooked up with strangers who had left him unsatisfied, and, on those occasions, when summoned, his friend had come to finish the job. But this time, there was no need for him to call Yanis. None at all.

Yanis was great at putting his restlessness at ease. He had the perfect cock and the ideal technique. But it wasn't only that. Yanis knew Ruslan well. They had known each other all their lives. And that put Yanis in a league of his own, as far as Ruslan's sex partners went.

Only that, right now, Ruslan felt that there was a contender in the cards. Yanis wasn't needed to come to finish the job, indeed. Chuckling to himself, he selected Yanis's number. What was he? Stupid now? Three orgasms given by that bawdy fighter were not going to tell him what to do. Ruslan had a pet peeve about being forced to do what he didn't want. And right now, the logical thing to want was to call Yanis.

"Hey," his friend's voice came through, a bit breathily.

"Hey," he said back. "You around? Back in town?"

"Yeah, I returned, like, two days ago," Yanis replied.

Two days ago? Ruslan frowned. That wasn't the worse part, though. He knew his friend well, down to the minutest speech mannerisms. Yanis was lying. He had been back for more than two days. What the hell was going on? He heard Yanis murmur something, and it was clear he was talking to someone on his end.

"It looks like I'm intruding," Ruslan said brusquely. "Give me a call when you want to hang out for drinks."

"Yeah, sure," Yanis replied. "Is everything all right? You sound a bit off."

"Everything's peachy," Ruslan said wryly.

"Oh, is that so? Because you sound like something just crawled up your ass," Yanis sounded pissed now.

Ruslan could feel his lips twitch, and he was dying to give a scathing retort as a reply, but he knew better. He had no claims over Yanis, and they had been clear about it when that talk had taken place between them. They were fuck buddies of sorts. Yanis had a woman, and he didn't do relationships with guys. Ruslan had shrugged at the time at the implications; Yanis was telling him off because he wasn't gay.

What Ruslan was, that was just his business, and Yanis was not going to get into that kind of funny business. Yanis came from time to time, and, when they weren't talking things involving money, he was screwing Ruslan's brains out. In return, Ruslan had given Yanis plenty of work when he was strapped for cash. And quite on the regular. Yanis had been adamant about not taking money for free. Or for screwing Ruslan, for that matter. And Ruslan could respect that.

"My ass is none of your concern, all right?" he said in a low voice. "Anyways," he quickly cut the other's possibly rude reply, "if you're back in town, just give me a call so we can meet and don't be an asshole."

He cut the conversation. Truth be told, he was in no mood to get into a fight with Yanis. No, it was not his MO to act like a bitch.

His phone rang, and he answered.

"All right, I'm coming over," Yanis said directly. "Where are you? Home or at the office?"

Now Ruslan could distinctively hear a high pitched voice in the background.

"I'm heading over to the office. I could use a bit of help. Just someone who needs a bit of straightening," he explained in as few words as he could.

"I'm on my way," Yanis replied, while the hysterical screams could still be heard.

Ruslan would have lied to say he felt satisfaction at what seemed like domestic trouble on Yanis's end. He didn't feel remorse, either. And that woman had to understand already that she had won. Ruslan was not after stealing Yanis from her. Everyone who knew him was also aware that he was stubborn as a mule. Yanis only did things his way, and that was why he was now getting up from his woman's arms to break some bones for Ruslan.

And he could barely wait to finish dealing with that so that he could go back home, take a shower and go to sleep. After letting Yanis get rid of the situation and paying him, he would see if his presence on the ground was still needed or not.

***

"So, the question is simple: where is the money?" he asked, as he leaned against the wall.

One of the employees tending the door during such delicate interrogations had offered him a chair, but he had refused. His ass was in plenty of pain right now, no matter how considerate his partner for the night had tried to be. It was almost making him laugh. How the hell could he be so sex-crazed when his body was clearly not taking it well? But after each night spent getting fucked by whoever, the next day, the crave returned with such an intensity that he almost wanted to lock himself inside the house and stay away from all men living and breathing. Of course, that was seldom an option. So, in other words, he just had to suck it.

The man tied to the chair grinned, showing ugly teeth. Ruslan winced in disgust.

"I didn't steal any," the man replied. "It's mine."

"I'm afraid that is not correct. Now don't make a fool of yourself. There is more at stake than what you may think it is," Ruslan said.

"Whatcha gonna do?" the thief licked his teeth.

"I'm not the one who's going to do anything to you."

"I thought this was a respectable establishment," the man stared at him defiantly.

Of course, he thought that they were just trying to scare him and nothing else. The small-time thief really thought he would walk in one piece, and with the money he had stolen from the casino's patrons who weren't careful enough with their belongings, which he had managed to drop somewhere outside before being caught by the bouncers and brought in for questioning.

"Even respectable establishments must take out the trash," Ruslan said matter-of-factly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Ruslan feigned boredom as he took a look at his watch.

"My associate's about to arrive."

"Your bouncers didn't kick my ass," the thief pointed out. "They know they can't do that. Why don't you call the police already so I can walk?"

"Of course they didn't kick your ass. As you said it yourself, this is a respectable establishment. But, you see, the police have the bad habit of being rather slow. Plus, they often think they're entitled to things for free when they come around. So, seeing that I'm a busy man, and people like you tend to take too much of my time, I have a quick solution at hand. I'm outsourcing certain services."

"You're nothing but talk," the man spat.

There was a short knock on the door, and Ruslan gestured for his employee to open it. He grimaced at Yanis's choice for headwear. What the hell was that? A chopped off sock?

"I leave things to you," he told his friend. "I'll just go order some refreshments so come to see me in my office once you're done here."

"Who the fuck is this guy?" the man tied to the chair squealed.

"None of your business," Ruslan threw over his shoulder and walked away.

The small thud made by a fist connecting to a jawline, followed by a scream, suddenly became nothing but muffled noise as the door closed behind him. The lively music from the casino was making him feel that he was trespassing from one world to another, an entirely different one.

He caught one of the servers and told her what he needed to be delivered to his office. The girl nodded shortly and scurried away. Well, at least, a dry Martini was going to take the edge off this weird evening. And, in a way, he had also called Yanis over for drinks. He needed to respect that part of the bargain, and also pay the man. That shower would have to wait a little while longer. It was best just to take it at home and then hit the bed.

Apparently, the perpetrator had been quick to confess this time because he didn't need to wait for Yanis to knock on his door for too long. He had taken out that horrible headwear, at least, when he walked in. But he was still using it to wipe off a few splotches of blood from his knuckles.

"Really, where did you find that horrible thing? So childish," he said, as he made a gesture for his friend to take a seat.

Yanis looked good. But when didn't he? He had that rough appeal of a thug, and his dark complexion, as well as his thin lips and the ever-present frown, were making him look like he was always brooding over something. And, of course, it scared shitless anyone who dared to stand in his path.

He was letting his hair grow a bit too long. Too bad, Ruslan thought. It was only making him look like a greaser. The shirt with a floral pattern and the loose pants didn't exactly make him look like a gangster, either. Only the leather jacket was somehow fitting to his real persona. Otherwise, he was no different from the many tourists spending their time in the casino each night. Maybe that was what Yanis thought to be good cover. And perhaps it was.

"Well, you took me by surprise. I had to improvise." Yanis sat down and threw the dirty rag on Ruslan's desk.

Ruslan grabbed it with two fingers, pulled a plastic bag from a drawer, dropped the offending thing in it and then the bag into the trashcan.

"Have a drink, and let me sort out the pay." Ruslan got to his feet and went to the adjoining room where his safe was.

He had always thought that was a bit too much, but the old man had insisted that he should keep the money he needed for any shady business in there. It made payments faster, also.

He got back with the money and placed it on the tray brought by the server, next to Yanis's vodka and soda. Yanis took the drink first and clucked his tongue satisfied, after a sip. Unhurriedly, he took the money, too, without counting. He didn't address any thanks, either. That was how things worked between them. Ruslan didn't have to ask to know that his bouncers were already retrieving the stolen money and other valuables the shady guy from earlier had pilfered from patrons. Yanis was good at convincing people to give up their secrets. And all this time, Ruslan could keep his hands clean.

"Buy your woman something nice," he said. "She sounded pissed tonight."

Yanis looked at him, and his eyes turned into narrow slits. Ah, well, that was pissing him off. But Ruslan could not care less. They weren't doing the politeness dance between them. Not after growing up in the same orphanage and ending up on the streets at the same time, left to fend off for themselves the best way they could. Given the circumstances, they had done pretty well for themselves.

"You sounded pissed, too. Should I buy you something nice?" Yanis shot back, looking at Ruslan through his eyelashes, as his usual frown deepened.

"No need." Ruslan waved. "So, are we going to make some idle talk, or are you ready to head back to the missus?"

"You're pissed about her? For real?" Yanis took another sip from his drink.

Ruslan shook his head. "No. But I'm pissed that you got back, and you didn't care to call. Did you just stumble upon some lost treasure and you don't need the extra work? And since when we're not friends anymore?" Ruslan questioned. "I have nothing against any of that. But it would be nice of you to let me know. A man good at what you do is hard to find."

"Ah, and you're talking about this," Yanis put up his fists, "or this?" he asked, this time making an obscene gesture of grabbing his cock through his pants.

Ruslan sighed. "Really, are we going to bicker like an old couple? I'm talking about straightening up idiots who misbehave. As for the other thing, I wasn't calling you for that."

Yanis took a few seconds to examine Ruslan over the desk and then suddenly got to his feet. In an effortless move, he leaned in and grabbed Ruslan by the front of his shirt. Ruslan didn't oppose. For an outsider, that would have looked pretty weird. But, between them, it was totally normal.

Yanis sniffed him. "You got fucked," he said quietly, and let go of Ruslan's shirt to sit back in his chair and savor his drink again.

Ruslan nodded.

"Was it good?" Yanis asked, his interest only a glint in his dark green eyes.

Ruslan smiled widely.

"Hmm, so you don't need me to finish tonight?" Yanis wiped his lips with his thumb, without losing sight one moment of his lifetime buddy.

Ruslan shook his head, continuing to smile.

Yanis's eyes grew wide. "Really? Who's the guy?"

"You don't know him," Ruslan waved.

"So that's it? You found a replacement for me?" Yanis asked his questions like the round of bullets from a machine gun.

"How can you say that?" Ruslan sighed. "You know there's no way I could replace you."

"Oh, yeah? Then let's get it on." The man slammed the empty glass on the tray and got to his feet.

Ruslan put up one hand. "Seriously, Yanis, I'm broken, man. Rain check?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Yanis sat down again.

He wasn't upset. He just couldn't believe it that Ruslan was refusing him. That had never happened before, and Ruslan was always the one to propose that kind of stuff, anyway.

"What can I say?" Ruslan leaned against his chair and took a sip from his Martini, while, for a second, his eyes became unfocused, and his mind wandered off to the guy who had given it to him so good tonight. "I'm wrecked. I can barely wait to get home and take a shower."

"Well, at least, you got to finish," Yanis commented, and this time he sounded a little pissed.

Ruslan knew the guy wasn't pissed at him, though.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asked airily.

Yanis shrugged. "I was halfway when you called. I'm not sure I'm getting any when I get back. So, what can I say? Thanks for the cockblock, bro," he added, but now he was smiling.

Ruslan chuckled and shook his head. "I'd offer to blow you, but, one, I'm not keen on tasting pussy off the cocks I suck, and two, I'm afraid I'm going to fall asleep with your dick in my mouth."

Yanis burst into laughter and slammed his palms against his thighs. "No hard feelings, man. And, yeah, I'll have to buy her something nice. So, we're cool here?" he asked.

"Sure thing. I need to crash at my place. Don't be a fucking stranger, okay?" he looked at his friend.

"Okay." Yanis stood up, this time with the intention to leave. "Anya, she just doesn't get it. How we are."

Ruslan put up both hands, palms facing forward. "No need to explain, really. Maybe I'd be pissed and jealous in her place, too. But I don't have the same thing she has between her legs, so ..." he trailed off, shrugging.

"Yeah, that's the only thing that's bad about you," Yanis joked. "Should you have had a pussy, I would have taken you home and kept you under lock and key."

Ruslan grimaced like the perspective was completely undesirable. "It's a good thing then. Staying at home, eating bonbons all day long, sounds pretty fucking boring. Plus, if I had been a woman, we would have never met. So be glad, you ungrateful bastard. I'm still your best client for your side gigs, am I not?"

Yanis grinned. "Sure thing you are. Should we share a cab?"

"Nah, I'm good," Ruslan said. "I'll have someone drive me home. And I can ask for a car for you, too. On the house."

"Nah, it's better to keep things clean," Yanis said, and Ruslan nodded in admission. "No one should know I work for you once in a while. And especially what kind of work I do."

"Good thinking," Ruslan replied. "See you around, man. Good to have you back home."

"It's good to be back." Yanis shook hands with him before leaving.

He didn't care for Yanis's dealings, as he didn't care about the fact that he had a girlfriend. In return, Yanis wasn't nosy, either. Very few people knew of the connection between them, and that was all for the better.

***

Johnny was a tiny bit pissed. It was clear as day that he needed to round his income from external sources, and if there was one thing he hated was having to deal with the other world, the one that existed beyond his. He thrived in that environment, even if it involved illegal fights, and cheaters, and bribers, and rigged matches. On the other hand, he hated the world of those who claimed to be respectable.

He knew well that they were nothing but. After all, it was one of those freaks keeping him by the balls and squeezing almost everything from him. Soon, he was going to break even. He just needed a little push; that was all. And, after that, he was going to turn and bite fast. That shit for brains was not going to know what hit him. All his life was dedicated to the revenge that was to come. He just needed to bid his time, and pay his debts. And survive.

His thoughts traveled to the pretty man who had come to offer him an honest job at Efige. Dressed up to snuff, looking like fucking royalty, but wishing for nothing else but a hard dick up his ass. Not that he was holding that against him. That night had been awesome. He was still jerking off to that. But he had a problem with people who had the nerve to claim they were respectable and did the same old dirty business under the table. As much as he had appreciated the man's lovely round behind, and his ability to take what he was given, he cared squat about his employer.

He didn't know who ran Efige. He didn't care about stuff like that. But now, that he had to take on some more fights, he felt that he was taken for a fool. That meant he needed another source of money.

So, he had heard of some amateur night, on the other side of the river. Apparently clean. Not his world, not his people, but it could mean money. Plus, it wasn't like he would sign off his ass. He would just make an honest buck. No big deal.

"Hey," he called for another fighter who was getting busy at one of the manikins used for practice. "What do you know about that amateur night? How much is the prize?"

"The big one's ten grand," the man replied, as he continued his routine of punches and kicks.