Clean Up On Aisle Eight - Chapter Five

From that day forward, I was officially one of the Russian's lackeys. McCain's suicide was in the news only three days after our trade, I blamed myself. Matt had caught onto my unusual behaviour and checked in on me day and night outside of work. I liked his company and began spending more time at his house because my place was a reminder of the life I'd created for myself and Mr Big Shot would never reveal himself to Matt.

I'd been in contact with Lev, two or three word conversations, but i took it as a win. I aimed to gain Lev's trust by talking to him and proving my "loyalty" to the boss, if he was on my side, there was a high chance I'd learn dangerous information I'd be able to use against that repulsive asshole.

"Will you get your head out the gutter and haul that shit to storage" one of the old geezers who'd only started working here last Monday thought he was hot shit, which seriously pissed me off?

"How about, fuck off, Terry."

"What'd you say to me, punk?" throwing a light crate of ice on the floor and stepping up to me. I'd beat his ass if he hit me first, but Matt would have to deal with the paperwork and Winkle's disappointed lecture.

"Punk?" I smirked. "Congratulations, you've successfully pissed me off. If you want to fight, we can do it outside, like real men or hit me now, lose your job and regret all of this tomorrow?" Matt was staring out of the office window with a look on his face I'd never seen before.

"Don't get in my way, asshole."

"Yeah, yeah, jerk."

I finished at my station and got fresh orders from Matt, who'd changed up my rota so it wouldn't be too different from his. I assumed he was keeping tabs on me because of the doctor appointment I pulled out my ass and the headaches I'd never told him about until I took a day off work; it was too sketchy for Matt's smarts.

"I'm clocking out early, I'll give you a call later." saying night to Matt and stripping off my overalls. I got into my car and answered the phone to the Russian choir boy.

"Be here before ten." he hung up.

"Sure, thanks for asking if I'm available!" I grumbled.

I took the shortcut out of town, If he had a fucked up job in mind, I'd be negotiating the terms of our agreement. I wasn't about to break my back after ten hours of hard labour. If he wanted his dirty work done, he could give it a try.

Navigating the motorway, I picked up the phone.

"I'm on the motorway." I answered bluntly.

"Cut off half a mile from meet-up, buy a suitcase and trash bags." he hung up.

"Suitcase and trash bags? Are they moving house?" I sighed irritably, not wanting to deal with his shit.

Stopping at a supermarket, I bought the needed supplies in cash and put them into the boot of my car. Lev called to tell me to remove my shoes and clothes before entering the house. It painted an unsettling picture, and I doubted the Russian's motives as I hung up the phone. They'd been rather quiet since my first job and now, they were contacting me late at night with creepy demands; if I had any sense, I would've left the country and disappeared but, I couldn't do that to Matt.

"Knock, knock!" I tapped the window with the suitcase handle. Already undressed and awaiting Lev's face to appear behind the glass door.

"Wear these?" he handed me a head to toe plastic suit and took the supplies inside.

Dressing to impress, I stepped inside to a nauseating smell. It was like roadkill had been thrown around the living room, blood stained the cream walls and bits of what I could only imagine had become one with the carpet. The man himself sat in a plastic wrapped chair in the same get-up as myself. He looked displeased and stood up with a bottle of fabric cleaner in hand.

"Throw up outside." he ordered. Pouring the cleaner over the massive red patch that'd soiled the floor. "Lev, use the carpet cleaner and clean that up. Daniil, take the suitcase to the bathroom and clean it up." he gave orders with a stern tone to his voice, his eyes were void of emotion and everything was moving so fast.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked quietly. A stupid question, but I was already at the scene of the crime and dong nothing seemed pointless.

"Use the steamer on the wall and once it's clean, use that pant to freshen it up." he patted my shoulder.

"Boss?" I whispered. Getting his attention. "Are you doing alright?" I'd be lying if I said I wasn't concerned.

"Fine, Blane. Back to work!" he calmly ordered. Existing the living room and entering the kitchen.

'What the fuck happened here? Everyone is acting strange.' steaming the wall, I couldn't help but shiver at the thought of unnerving these guys.

They aren't your usual folk that are easily disturbed, so, naturally, it sent a chill down my spine to think of who or what had such an effect. It was late, the place was laced in evidence, Lev was carpet cleaning and Daniil was playing housemaid in the bathroom with whoever or whatever was moved inside. The Boss, whose name was a mystery to me, had taken to the kitchen with disinfectant and rubber gloves. I couldn't lie, I felt sick to my stomach cleaning blood off a wall with fragments of a stranger only meters from my feet.

The night was long but I remained alert and awake throughout. Boss had finished up by 1 am, Lev and I took to painting the wall while Daniil disposed of whoever lay to rest in the suitcase I provided. He returned at 4 am, swiftly finishing his duties in the bathroom as our paint job dried and the carpet was given it's last clean.

I was tasked with disposing of the evidence from the carpet cleaner down the drain in the backyard. My clothes were damp from the rain, I thoroughly washed my hands before collecting my clothes and putting them into the washer. The others followed suit.

"Everyone upstairs, we'll get a good night's rest and finalize everything later." the Boss gave his orders and Lev and Daniil headed upstairs.

"I'll be back tomorrow, give me a-" I was interrupted.

"Don't be silly, you're sleeping with me in the main bedroom. You've done well, you deserve the rest?" his lips curved into a gentle smile, and for the first time I agreed with him and headed upstairs.

"Come on, Boss?" I gestured for him to head upstairs in front of me.

He glanced around the room before following my lead, the stairs creaking quietly beneath his feet and the sound of his breathing heavy but healthy. Stretching audibly, I ran my fingers through my hair and shuffled into bed with the Boss half an arm's length from me. He rolled over to face me with closed eyes, his silky skin glowing in the moonlight, seeping through the bedroom window.

"Hey, Boss?" I whispered respectfully.

"Mhm?" he softly hummed.

"Can you tell me what happened?" I asked without a tone.

He stayed silent with closed lids. "If I tell you, will you get some sleep?" he was blunt as ever, but I nodded in agreement as he'd opened his eyes. "Good." he turned onto his back. "Constantine was a man I worked with, he was a bodyguard I met through drug traffickers. He was shady, but no shadier than the men I work with every day. I hired him, he worked hard, never ceased to disappoint me and obeyed my every word." he sighed. "He was a bad egg. I should've spotted the red flags before he fucked me over!" his eyes didn't shift from the ceiling.

"You cared for him? I can tell it was harder for you to do what was right because of your previous interactions." I attempted to comfort him, his expression changing.

"You know, you're not so insufferable when you're tired," he joked. Seeming somewhat at peace, unlike before.

"Hah, is that so, Mr Mysterious?" I harmlessly joked.

"You seem very insistent on knowing my name, why is that?"

"Curiosity? The fact I tried to rob you? and I can't figure you out." I admitted.

"Hm. That is an excellent list of reasons." he amused me. "It's not as glamorous as you believe, my mother chose it to honour her father, a loyal man. I always wanted to meet him." he spoke of his past with innocence in his voice.

"Who was this great man with a loyal heart and soul?" I asked smiling. Trying to keep the current mood alive, whatever it was, it made us feel better than earlier.

"Nikolai Alexandrovich Jenkov, a protector of family and country." he spoke proudly.

"It's nice to finally meet you, the circumstances aren't the best and I really hate your daddy's boy attitude but, you're not so bad after a clean-up-crew shift." I pushed his buttons for personal pleasure. Trying not to hate him for a day.

"I was right to like you, Blane. You're funny!" His reply was far from what I imagined, he hadn't let his guard down since we first met and he nearly blew my head off.

I thought he was a young adult with a foul attitude but he loved, respected and trusted family just like every other sad sack. It used to feel good thinking he was some choir boy psychopath living off daddies hard earned cash, but, I had to accept I was semi-wrong and give credit where it was due.

I crashed after our long awaited 'get to know each other' chat. He was a silent sleeper, he purred in his sleep like a baby cooing for their mother, maybe it wasn't daddy issues, perhaps he just yearned for a mother's touch.

I, undeniably, did when I was only a few years younger than him. I couldn't imagine how he must've felt, getting involved in gangs before he had got his first job or met his first love. He wasn't raised in a world with the same expectations as mine.