Dmitry's Closet Nelson, S. (best reads TXT) 📖

“I know it’s here somewhere?” he continued, sticking his hands into his back pockets, where he pulled out a knife and laid it on the counter. “Just give me one minute.” Reaching into the holsters under his arm he pulled out two more guns and laid them on the counter as well.

Royal stepped back as she looked at her counter, clut-tered with guns. Her heart skipped a beat. Suddenly his bite appeared worse than his bark.

“There is no need to threaten anyone,” Cory said, un-moved. “I have a pen right here. I can just write your number down. And you can put your guns away.” Cory’s voice was even and still, so much so that it calmed the women visibly shaken beside him.

“No, no. I have one.” Ivan pulled outa shiny silver pen and smiled at Royal. “Told you.” He took the paper and wrote down his number, then slowly put the guns away.

The clock seemed to slow, drawing out every second. It felt like a millennium before Anatoly walked into the store from the backroom, but it had only taken him five minutes. Five minutes to get from the Mother Russia to the Dmitry’s Closet, and he hadn’t come alone. Three men were with him, all wearing gun holsters with shiny, black guns tucked inside of them.

“Royal, come over here,” Anatoly ordered, motioning behind the men.

Royal looked over at her friends, realizing that she could not leave them alone, she hesitated.

“Go on,” Cory said, nudging her arm.

Royal grabbed Renée’s hand and pulled her from behind the counter, where Ivan stood with a sheepish grin watching them scurry to the back of the store behind the Russian strangers that Anatoly had brought with him.

Ivan looked back over at Cory and raised his eyebrow.

“Looks like Royal brought some friends,” Ivan said texting someone.

“Evidently,” Cory replied nonchalantly.

Ivan put his phone on his hip and yawned. “You know, for fag…you don’t squirm much.”

“I’m a homosexual, not a punk.” Cory answered.

Ivan smiled. “And you’re eloquent.”

The front door opened quickly and six very large brooding men flooded in to the store, all standing behind Ivan, obviously under his command and ready to demolish the entire place if ordered.

Anatoly did not flinch. He surveyed the room quietly as his men spread out.

“Royal, I had no idea that you had such a large entou-rage,” Ivan said loudly as he moved from the counter to the center of the floor directly across from Anatoly.

“Don’t talk to her. Talk to me,” Anatoly ordered. “Who are you here for?”

Ivan sighed. “How many times do I have to say it? I’m here for my brother, Dmitry Medlov.”

“Well, you’re in wrong place,” Anatoly was unmoved. His voice only hardened.

“What’s the right place?” Ivan asked mockingly.

“You already have information. Don’t play me for some kind of fool,” Anatoly snapped. “Mr. Medlov will not be happy that you’ve come here. Not happy at all.”

“I’m counting on it.” Ivan smirked.

Just then, Dmitry walked in the front door of the shop with the newspaper in his hand, whistling a tune to himself. Mirroring his brother’s style in a pair of gray slacks and black t-shirt and flip flops, he looked up stunned. The door chimes rattled as the door closed behind him. Everyone looked over at Dmitry, who looked back with a deadly grimace.

He took off his shades and looked around, eyeing each of the men. The entire room calmed when they saw him, almost stiffening in fear. Their demeanor quickly changed from aggressive to docile.

“What the hell is going on in my store?” he asked, searchingfor Royal.

“You have…visitors,” Anatoly informed his boss. He didn’t budge or take his eyes off of the men.

“Obviously,” Dmitry said, finally eyeing Royal in the back with Renee looking on confused. He reached out and waved for her.

Royal huffed. Now she was supposed to go back across the room to him? She looked over at Renée and let go of her hand. She knew Dmitry. He was not worried about protecting anyone but her.

Slowly, she inched through the nearly crowded room alone, past the beautiful devil named Ivan and clouds of armed men to get to get to Dmitry, the tallest and most fearful of the entire crowd. Her heels clicked on the ground as she did so. All eyes followed her short silk dress and her long legs until she arrived at Dmitry, who was now visibly fuming.

“Are you alright?” he asked,ignoring everyone else in the room. He took her face in his hands.

“No,” Royal said,feeling the tears weld up in her eyes. “They all have guns.”

“I know,” he said softly.

“In a fucking dress shop,” she continued in a strained whisper.

Dmitry looked up from her and stared over at his brother.

“Ivan,” he growled, pulling Royal behind him.

“Dmitry,” Ivan said, giving a devilish grin. “I see that not much has changed. You still know how to stop a show.” He turned to face his brother, but did not move towards him. Even he knew his boundaries.

“I see that you still don’t know how to make an en-trance,” Dmitry said, nodding his head at Anatoly.

He looked at the men all crowded in the store. He did not recognize any of the men with Ivan. They were not the ten men from the file he had received from New York. These were Ivan’s personal bodyguards. The thought only angered him more.

“Do I need to say anything?” he asked softly,looking at the men disapprovingly. “Because if I do, it will be kill, mangle, burn, hang and destroy.”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. Ivan’s men appeared suddenly vulnerable to Dmitry and his overbearing demeanor that trumped even his brother’s pompous temperament.

“Follow me,” Anatoly instructed, turning around and walking out of the back of the store.

All of the men, including Ivan disbursed quickly through the back door following Anatoly. They filed out of the building quietly, but they left Royal shaking in her flip flops. Tears were forming at the corner of her eyes, but she