We Are Both In The Dirt Ch. 07

Mint loves her, but she is dangerous. She spent ten years on the arm of a crime boss in the throes of rising power, a crime boss with cresting ruthlessness and a one track mind. He is sending the very arms of his organization to kill her for something she should have been able to do freely. Montana doesn't care about the money, Mint is sure of this. He wants her dead, and in Mint's opinion, he'd always wanted her dead.

Mint swirls wine around in his mouth thoughtfully, watches Mira where she lay in Mandrake's bed, naked except for a sheet thrown almost strategically across her lower half. He lights a cigar and takes a seat, powers on his phone. His eyes rake over text after text. He doesn't have the nerve to tell Mira that he hasn't exactly been truthful about things. Has not been truthful about anything, really.

Mandrake knocks on the door and Mint slides out of the room quickly before he knocks again and wakes Mira. "She isn't dressed," Mint says.

"That's the least of your fucking worries, Mallard," Mandrake grabs Mint by the collar and pushes him against the wall. His head makes a loud thudding sound that echoes loudly throughout the hotel room. In a quick movement, Mint grabs Mandrake's wrist, maneuvers it behind his back and shoves his face flat against the same wall.

"I know I'm fucking up, Mandrake, but don't test me," Mint says.

"Let me go or I will fucking break your goddamn arm, or worse, I'll wake Mira up and we'll have a little talk," Mandrake says. Not feeling up to the type of fight he and Mandrake are capable of, Mint releases him. The two men walk tensely out to the living room. The blonde women have gone, and they sit across from each other, the conversation Mint dreading on the tip of their tongues.

"So let's start off light. What in the hell are you doing with Mira?"

"None of your business. Why are you giving me such a hard time, you got your money, we should be square."

"We are far from that sort of shape, Mint."

"Have I ever told you your name is awful?"

"Ever since we were kids. What type of hippie name is Mint anyway?" Mandrake asks, the joke coming out harsh and awkward like any joke ever told in Mandrake's thick Russian accent. It is so easy to separate himself from Mandrake, their differences are so stark-but few.

"Ask your mom," Mint answers. He relaxes a bit and relights his cigar which had been snuffed out in he and Mandrake's scuffle. "Me and Mira, we're finally giving things a shot."

"A shot, huh?" Mandrake throws his head back, laughs. He rakes a hand through his bleached blonde hair and messes it up so that he takes on an unintended sadistic look-not a hard thing to achieve on a face as hard as Mandrake's. "Did you know that she and I are right in the middle of our shot?"

"She might have insinuated that before she passed out in your bed," Mint says with a smile, "but you and I both know how persistent I can be."

"Persistent is an understatement," Mandrake says. He stands and pours two tumblers of brandy at the bar. "I can't ignore what you guys have. Ever since you met that night-she is all you ever stay true to. However, you don't always show her that that is the way you feel."

"And that's where you come in, right? The Russian Mint with none of the emotional unavailability?"

"You could say that."

"Well, she didn't keep her part of the bargain anyway. I shouldn't be the only one repenting my sins."

"Her part of the bargain?"

"You should know as well as me how she crossed me, after all, I am the one who's been behind bars-missing everything-dreaming about money that I wasn't even sure would be around once I got out. Especially after I killed that Aryan motherfucker that Montana sent after me-I didn't think I'd ever get out."

"Doesn't even make sense. An Aryan in prison taking a contract from a black hood on the outside? What are the odds?"

"Prison is a strange place," Mint answers with a wan smile. He sips the brandy, silently thanks Mandrake for the great choice of beverage.

"Thanks again for what you did, taking the wrap like that."

"Of course you never said that in your letters while I was away. Pretty much you just kept reminding me that I owed you 'buckets of money brother, buckets!' and now you have it, you tell me thanks. You three are pieces of work."

"You three?"

"Yes. You, Montana, and fucking Mira-at least Mya had the decency to only cross me once she knew I'd crossed her."

"The decency?"

"Nothing the three of you have done has been decent. Of course I'm not blaming you all for me going to prison-I agreed to that. Now I know I can't blame Mira for spending up my money because she didn't. It's all here."

"The whole five million?"

"Yes, she didn't spend even spend a cent of the million I gave her. Montana didn't take it when he left her. The other four is right where we left it."

"So no one touched your cut. Remind me of what it is that you can blame us for?"

"For starters, Mira didn't keep true to our affairs of the heart."

Mint, give me break!" Mandrake says with a roll of his eyes.

"It's give me a break, and I'm dead serious. She was supposed to leave Montana Jones in the dust, take our money and move somewhere nice. We were going to wash our money up real nice, live in some glass and stucco place with an infinity pool and make babies. She wasn't supposed to get engaged to the psycho and play house in his gaudy penthouse."

"Well, you should've kept her a bit more abreast of things while you were away. All she had was Mya calling her and telling her how you were making collect calls to her every night proclaiming your undying love. You never made it clear that you and Mya were over, and Mira decided to stop waiting on a man who doesn't even have the balls to attempt to get into her pants."

"Fuck you Mandrake! You only know what she's told you. She knows how I feel about dipping my dick in another man's container."

"Now she's 'another man's container'? You know Mint, to be one part of a couple riding the adrenaline packed wave of star-crossed love you sure don't treat her like much of a prize. Not to mention that you've lied to her since the moment you laid eyes on her again. Three years away from her, and when you return you put her through the wringer. She fell into my arms because you promised to save her from Montana, and you didn't do it."

"Mandrake, you couldn't be more off base. How the fuck can I save her and take the fall for her and her two lovers!"

"The only way you could-by letting her know that she was the only one. She's always been afraid of taking the leap with you because of Mya. You two have a history that can't be denied, how could she trust that you'd follow through? Essentially you didn't. You told her to dump Montana with the guarantee that you two would be together when you got out, and then you rang Mya's phone off the fucking hook for three years. She can't leave a man like Montana without another one to step in and make sure she can't be touched."

"And you're that man, I assume?" Mint stubs out his cigar, ignores the butterflies in his stomach. "Do you know the Mira I know? She doesn't need anyone to protect her. Not really. And just this afternoon she was telling me about how we need to start spending our money. Ours, we, those are the key words. If you guys are taking your "shot" as you put it, why did she kiss me this afternoon, why is she ready to leave with me?

"Mint, I know better than anyone how Mira feels about you but it matters little as you've ruined things, and I'll be here to pick up the pieces just like I always am. She's torn; she loves you, she loves me, she's used to Montana. She uses us like revolving doors, only, I'm into that sort of thing." Mandrake smiles and down the rest of his brandy. "I'm the one in heaviest rotation at the moment. In fact, she was always on her way to see me tonight-she just happened to show up with you. You know why she was coming to see me?"

"Because you have the nerve to try to get into her pants?" Mint asks.

Mandrake smiles and shakes his head, "Close but not quite. She came to see me because she knows something that she never knew of you. She knows that I am going to kill Montana Jones and take her somewhere beautiful, a place where even the memory of Montana can't touch us."

"Over my dead body, Mandrake."

"Funny, Mya said the same thing to me this morning when she called. She said that you and Mira would walk hand in hand into the sunset over her dead body. She told me she texted you that exact phrase. Funny thing is, if she'd sent Mira the same message, she would be confused, right? As she thinks that dead body already exists, does she not?"

Mira appears in the doorway, fully dressed in a red dress that stops at a tasteful point on her thigh. Her thick black hair is piled into a curly up do at the crown of her head, and she has her purse on her shoulder, tears in her eyes.

"I'm going out," she says, "and neither of you motherfuckers better follow me."

They both watch her leave, and as instructed, neither follow.