The Mobster's Toy Ch. 02

The next two days went normal; we chatted more about games we like to play and even decided to play FIFA together, as we both liked it, and I had the console and two controllers.

It was so innocent and playful to just forget about everything and have fun.

But there was the end of Thursday, and after one game he turned to me and suddenly said: "Fiodor's gonna fuck me tomorrow."

I quivered in surprise and turned my eyes to him, as he was sitting with a controller in his hands, pale and hunched over. I blinked and cleared my throat. What could I say to him that would make him feel better?

"I... know, I'm sorry. I really don't know what I can do to help you, Ilya. I don't have enough money to help you with your debt. But I can... help you in other ways, as I said before. You have a friend in me. It's not much, I know."

He lowered his head.

"It's not that painful, you know. If I prep myself. I do it diligently, I put a dildo in me, smaller one then larger. You know, to stretch."

I winced, and turned my head aside. "I can imagine, Ilya."

"He does it in a very... clinical, almost robotic way. He never does foreplay. He never hugs me during the sex. He just sticks it in there. I think about other stuff then, like swimming in the ocean. Dancing. Jogging. I like to jog. And I just endure the fucking."

I grunted with frustration. "I'm at least glad he uses condoms. It's commendable."

Ilya chuckled, but it was not a very cheerful chuckle.

"Well, yes. He confided in me that he once caught an ugly STD. And transmitted it to his wife. She almost divorced him for that. So, he is very careful now. As I said - clinical. He always uses condoms."

"At least he is not endangering you."

We were sitting on the floor in my room. Ilya put the controller aside and stood up.

"I need to go, Landon. Thank you for this evening."

I stood up also and grabbed his hand. He froze, his eyes snapped up to me.

"Ilya, there are no words that I can say to you that would ease your pain. But I'm here. You can come to me at any time. Don't hesitate to do that, okay? Promise me that."

He nodded, then freed his hand and went away.

And that was it.

The next day in the afternoon, I received a call from Fiodor.

"My driver broke his leg, and both of my bodyguards have the day off. I want you to do something for me. One, take my wife and children to her sister. And on your way back, bring me Ilya. I'll send you the addresses."

I swallowed hard. Really? I had to be the one to bring Ilya to him? I opened my mouth to say no... but then he added: "I will pay you extra."

I needed money if I wanted to continue my college experience... I could not have a full-time job. And Fiodor paid me more than I could earn working part-time in a normal job.

I sighed. "Okay, I'll do it." Fuck, it was too easy.

I drove to Fiodor's mansion and left my car there. The majordomo Igor welcomed me at the door.

"Ah, you! The fighter. Beast! Come, come. Inside," he said in a creepy way, waving his hand at me in an inviting gesture. I hesitantly went inside.

He was quite fat and old, and had a wide and boorish face.

"Fiodor wants you to have this mobile. Addresses inside. You manage." His accent was very thick, and pronunciation was a bit funny.

I gave him a tentative look, but took the cell phone. "Okay, but... I have my own cell phone, I don't need it. I can copy the addresses..."

"No! Take this! Fiodor's gift."

Well, if he thought that nowadays giving somebody a cheap cell phone was like giving a gold bar, he was deeply mistaken. I grimaced and put the device into my pocket.

"Sure, thanks. So? What should I do? Where's Fiodor?"

"Fiodor in his cabinet office. Busy. You wait. Irina will come soon. Here is the key. You know a limousine? Drive a limousine?"

"Pretty sure it's just like a normal car."

"Sure but turns are trickier." Igor tried to giggle, but it sounded more like choking.

I nodded and sighed. "I hope, I will manage... I drove a military armored vehicle, and those things are not small."

"You served, yes? Afghanistan?"

"Yep."

"How long?"

"I was in the military for four years, in Afghanistan for one and a half."

"Injured, yes?"

I glanced at him. He surely didn't mean anything rude, just his way of asking questions was a bit... intense.

"Yes."

He nodded. "My father served in Afghanistan. But not this war. Another one. Also injured."

I forced myself to make an awkwardly sad face. "Serving is hard sometimes..."

"But good. Make you hard. Tough!"

I looked a bit skeptical, then bit my lip and mumbled: "Sometimes it can..." I wasn't sure how to say it to him in a polite manner. "Sometimes it can injure... mind. Head. Sadly." I tapped my temple.

"Ah, yes. No worries. You will be better. You will see. Tough boy."

He patted my shoulder. I felt uncomfortable, but what could I say? I was in rehabilitation for six months after the IED incident, I was uncertain if serving made me a tougher man. Probably just more broken.

"Irina will be here soon. Go to the car. My number is in the mobile. If you have trouble with the car."

"Okay, thanks."

"Take care Beast! Strong, head up!" Patted me again and headed toward the backdoors.

A weird man, but maybe he was okay? I couldn't tell.

So, I went outside to Fiodor's limousine, and lamely I stood next to it with stupid grimace.

Sure enough, Fiodor's wife, Irina and their two children went outside the mansion and approached me.

I was amazed - seeing this woman. She was... stunning. She could be around 38, but she seemed younger and still beautiful.

Ironically, she looked a lot like Ilya. I guess Fiodor had a type. She was small but slender, with long, golden hair. I could see the Slavic features on her face, high cheekbones, and petite chin. She even had blue-green eyes! It's like Ilya was her twin brother! Fiodor was truly sick for fucking a male version of his wife.

I blinked and made some awkward gestures toward the limousine. She ignored me but marched toward the car, her children one step behind her.

I cleared my throat, and got inside.

Then I heard her speaking to the teenage girl, scolding her for something. She had a distinct accent, in a way similar to Ilya's accent, which made me even more cringe inwardly.

Fuck! So strange. Did Fiodor specifically choose a Ukrainian boy on purpose? In some sexual mind-fucking game? Ilya told me he asked his wife to play dead for him during sex. But also that they had marital problems because of Fiodor's recent infidelity. They were constantly arguing. What was going on here? I noticed that Fiodor didn't leave the house, didn't say goodbye to his family.

I somehow felt that they were on bad terms, maybe even on the brink of divorce?

But of course, it wasn't any of my business; I just watched her discreetly in the rearview mirror, amazed by her good features. She had a perfect profile, soft pink lips, and delicate skin. She must have been even more breathtaking in her twenties. Now, I could see dark shadows under her eyes, and sadness lingering in her eyes.

Another strange thing, were all Slavic people a bit miserable and melancholic? It probably wasn't true, I just accidentally met two tormented and gloomy persons from Eastern Europe.

Her children were more similar to Fiodor, dark blond hair and thicker body frames, and during the drive they seemed constantly absorbed with their phones.

I drove them to the requested address, it was another, slightly smaller mansion located about half an hour drive from Fiodor's residence. Irina got out of the car and both teenagers followed. She didn't say anything to me, just marched away toward the mansion.

Okay... Weird.

I drove away a bit further, and parked on the side, to check my route to the UCLA campus.

My mood quickly went south I was about to take Ilya to the mobster's den. Nothing to be happy about. I rubbed my eyes and just sat in the car for some time.

But then something peculiar happened.

From the place I was parked I could see the driveway to Irina's sister's mansion. I noticed Irina standing there with a cell phone in her hand. She waited for about a minute and suddenly a BMW car pulled up and parked beside her.

The man got out... then he yanked her to his chest, and they started kissing passionately.

I opened my mouth in surprise. Well, well. Fiodor's wife surely wasn't happy being treated as a dead body in bed.

They both got into the car and drove away.

But then I noticed something else. As the car passed me, I recognized the license plate! It had very characteristic letters. It was a man I knew from my underground fighting times. They called him "Hung". He was another high-bettor there, as Fiodor was.

That was unexpected, but it still wasn't my problem. I didn't intend to do anything with that knowledge. It could only get me into trouble. None of my business! I had enough of my own concerns.

I got to campus and parked the limousine near Ilya's dormitory, then sent a text message to him from my new cell phone, giving him my location at the parking lot. I felt like a traitor.

Additionally, I waited about ten minutes before he showed up.

He was wearing black jacket, black skinny jeans and an intensely blue shirt. His hair was loose, the wind blew his golden strands. He looked stunning, this perfect porcelain skin and big eyes with those crazy long eyelashes...it all made my heart flutter.

I clenched my jaw. How could I agree to this?

Even from the front seat, I could smell his fresh scent as soon as he got inside.

And I should be indifferent to his suffering?

He lifted his head and froze.

Our eyes met.

"Landon?!"

I didn't answer.

"What are you doing here?" he bit out at last. His eyes looked panicked, face pale.

"I'm sorry," I forced these words out. "He called me to take you there, I was going to be there anyway, so..." I added stiffly, averting my gaze.

His harsh, bitter laugh cut through the air. "Just wonderful, Landon. Exactly what I needed to feel even worse."

I didn't reply, just started the car's engine, angry as fuck. We drove in silence, nothing to say, nothing to add. For some reason, I thought about one of my last missions in Afghanistan. We were protecting the family of one of our translators, that was to be transported to a safe, secluded place. But something went wrong. There was an ambush and the youngest son of our best translator was killed. We sped up with the dying boy in our armored car, but we were too late, he bled out. I really didn't want to think about these moments in my life, when I felt that I somehow failed. But I did it anyway.

I could observe Ilya in the rearview mirror the whole time, as I was observing Irina earlier.

He was even more perfect, at least for me. I could watch him all day, in stupid amazement. Surely, he would probably not be perceived as classically handsome here in the USA, but for me, he was breathtaking. I stared dazedly. I admired his high cheekbones and his small, pretty nose. His soft, plump lips, that I tasted not so long ago... I could almost feel him now. His sweetness...

Fuck!

What the hell. I slapped myself mentally.

And then it occurred to me in the strangest realization.

Could I be falling for the mobster's weekend lover?

I was never in love with anybody, and it was madness to choose this person. Choose? Can someone even decide to love? Hmm... I realized the weirdness of such a statement. I was going insane, obviously. I didn't love him, for sure! It was hilarious. I was just bored. Yes, it had to be the most probable reason.

I glanced at him again, and his beauty was almost painful, so I averted my gaze.

"Stop, just stop..." I murmured, fighting the awkward feeling.

"What?"

"Nothing."

He made a strange face, but went silent. We got to Fiodor's mansion and the man himself came out of the building. I could see other guests' cars parked on the wide driveway. That's when I realized that the cell phone probably had an app that would track the owner's location. It made sense. Fiodor would want to know what I did while driving his precious limo.

Quickly, I threw the cell into the car's glove compartment. Bent over the car's steering wheel I could peer at Fiodor catching Ilya in his arms, and kissing his neck, in a claiming manner that somebody would mark his possession.

I slowly got out of the car, forcing myself to act absolutely normal. I forced a fake-as-hell smile and nodded my head. Fiodor responded with a similar gesture. He wrapped his arm around Ilya's waist, and they went inside the residence.

I cursed under my breath, looking at them going further and further away from me. I could see the golden river of Ilya's hair spilling over Fiodor's arm. I watched the boy's slim silhouette with narrowed eyes. And I was angry... So angry, I felt the need to punch somebody, or at least something.

But I also had a job to do. I was a professional, and now a bodyguard, hired to ensure everything was in order during these crazy sex-and-drug parties that Fiodor loved to organize. So, I went inside and started with my duties. But there was not much to do, except for watching people take drugs and drink booze.

So, I did what I did last week.

I... devoted my time to staring at Ilya.

Of course, I could not gawk at him openly, that's for sure. I became a master of not-so-obvious gaping, using mirrors, and windows. Finding right angles... right moments, right reflections.

And I was pretty certain, he did the same. I just felt it. I could catch glimpses of his gazes in glass surfaces. Every so often our gazes openly met in mirrors. Sometimes we just stared at each other for minutes... We just STARED. It was a crazy game, but oh, so exciting.

He was sitting in Fiodor's lap, but his eyes were all mine. His attention was mine. His focus was on me.

...he belongs to me... WHAT?

Another crazy thought. Was I insane in the brain? I even start to sing that Cypress Hill song under my breath, or in my head. Loco! Insane! Yep. That was me, lusting for the mobster's boy. How can a person get even more pathetic?

But I simply could not stop. Watching. Wanting. Starving. Desiring.

I could touch him yesterday, so close to me, playing FIFA with me. But it had to be now when I was crazy hungry for him, seeing him at the side of Fiodor.

And suddenly, I caught Fiodor's gesture. He looked at me. Did he know? Of course, he could not know. I was too careful, constraining myself only to mirrors and windows.

I went to him, and then I understood why he wanted me there.

Immediately, I recognized Alessandro Dante, the fucking snake. He was in charge of underground fights in this part of the city.

I swallowed. Well, he was the guy I wanted to avoid. The guy I never trusted. The guy, that I once even fucked, but truly didn't want to remember that pitiful experience. He looked like... my past. Ugly past, looking straight in my tired eyes.

"Oh, who do we have here! The mighty Beast himself!"

Alessandro turned his head as I approached. His all-knowing smirk was annoying. He was here with another disgusting scumbag, the very popular host of all evenings, Marco Alban. They were both ogling me like crazed weirdos, looking happy that they found me here, humiliated as far as they regarded that, working as part-time bodyguard.

"C'mon, you can't be serious! The Beast is working as your bodyguard?! Are you crazy, Fiodor? Do you expect a SWAT raid, or something? Because he could take them down, kill half of them, the sick motherfucker! You have a serious weapon here, man!"

I felt like I was about to vomit. It could not be real. Those two dickheads would make me go berserk, possibly in a minute or so.

"Why don't you go back to cage fighting, Landon? You were a star there..." Marco took a sip of whiskey from his glass and winked at me.

"If you could only be tempted to fight with Andrew Scott! He's our runner-up now! It would be something, just think! The Beast returns! What a great event it could be! The belt in your reach again! And good money in your pocket... Imagine that!"

Alessandro looked excited about the idea.

"Sorry guys, I would rather go to work in the porn industry, than go back to cage fighting. I already fucked everybody there. I got bored." I shrugged.

Fiodor chuckled a bit, and the two assholes grinned mockingly.

"Well, you also could be a star in the porn industry, sweetheart. For sure!" Alessandro added slyly. "You should go for that. I will give you my personal credentials! Monster cock here it comes, ladies and gentlemen! It was a ride!" he chuckled, and I snorted.

"I might. I heard there are some hygiene standards on the set for performers. At least they don't... stink."

Alessandro's mocking smile was a bit less friendly now. Marco Alban rolled his eyes, and only Fiodor seemed to be sincerely amused.

"Sassy! Well, as they say, show me a man, and I will tell you his price. We will find a price for you, sweetheart. I promise you that!"

And he blew me a fake kiss in the air.

I could feel a sudden jolt of rage, but I turned my head and locked eyes with Ilya, who was standing beside Fiodor in complete silence. He could really see me. He could feel my mental state now. The only one in the room. He made a small, tiny shake with his head.

Like he was warning me. The Beast was calmed down by The Beauty. Cliché, but so fucking true.

I turned away, but in doing so, I caught a short glance of Marco Alban. His gaze was on me, and then on Ilya. His face remained impassive, but I suddenly felt fear. Marco didn't get where he was without a good reason. He was a very sly and clever person. Could he notice something? Or was it all only my imagination?

I gritted my teeth as I walked toward the wall to resume my duties.

Those hideous people. My crazy past, all of it. Useless. I hated it. I wanted to run away. But I could not. So, I made an ugly grimace; suddenly, I noticed Igor walking by.

He looked at me and tapped my arm. "Have a good evening?" he asked in his odd English.

I smiled, but it simply didn't reach my eyes. "Sure, yeah. And you?"

"Me doing my business. Those people there you talked to. You know them?"

"Superficially."

"Good. Not go close. Bad men, bad. Human auctions. Bad things, awful."

I blinked and stared at him for five seconds straight.

He only smiled ruefully and suddenly marched away.

What the fuck was that? Human auctions? I knew those people were into underground illegal fights, but something like that? I could not wrap my head around that.

The rest of the evening was a bit hazy. I really felt like I wanted some booze and a hard fuck to forget about everything. I felt annoyed. I could see Marco Alban eyeing me from time to time from the other side of the chamber.

When Fiodor went out with Ilya at his side, I only clenched my fists and forced myself to focus on people dancing and taking drugs in the main chamber. Alessandro and Marco also left soon after.

I had another crazy thought. I thought I could just let myself go crazy and just take the drugs or drink, to ease up a bit, to forget. But I was too miserable for that. So, I just waited.

After the rest of the guests fell asleep or went out, I knew where I had to go.

I needed to see Ilya again.

I was struggling a bit to find my way through the garden.

But finally, I found the right place. I was more careful this time, and didn't want Ilya to see me too soon. I circled and got closer to the balcony door I remembered from last week.

And there it was, almost exactly like I memorized it.

Fiodor was fucking Ilya, only this time the boy was on his stomach, his ass being up in the open, ravished by the shady "businessmen".

Ilya was laying passively, as Fiodor demanded. His limp arms spread to the side.