The Trouble with Loving a Milkovich Part 4

Ian's Return

Hurtling myself into the bathroom, I yell at whoever's in the shower, "Cover your dick!" before I projectile vomit into the toilet bowl. The sound my puke makes as it hits the porcelain drowns out the movement of the shower curtain; I'm startled to see a flash of red in the corner of my eye and even more startled when I see who it is peering out at me. "Ian?!" I yell, wiping the bile from my mouth. "Hey," he bashfully grins, his eyes surrounded by smeared eyeliner. "Where the fuck have you been?" I turn so that I'm sitting on the cool floor of the bathroom. Pulling the curtain close to his body, he enthusiastically tells me, "Oh, you know! Here and there, doing this and that!" His words come out in a rush, as the they couldnt leave his body soon enough. His pupils are as wide and black as the rings around his eyes; a suspicion in me grows, but I brush it off. "Oh yeah?" I ask, preparing for his hurried response. "Oh, yeah! You know, the army wasnt all I thought it would be, but I was able.." his words run into each other and my brain is too foggy to take any of it in. Feeling another round of bile making it's way up, I excuse myself and lean over the toilet again. "Feeling sick?" He asks, his enthusiasm unwarranted, considering the situation. At this, I push myself up and tell him I'll let him get back to his shower. Upon leaving the bathroom, I cross paths with a hammer wielding Svetlana, who is headed towards the bathroom. "Somebody is in there," I warn her, to which she looks dead in the face and says, "I know."

At the store, I'm teaching Axel how to place an order. We're going over the sheets and his hand accidentally brushes against mine. "Sorry," he says sheepishly. Blushing, I wave my hand in the air. "Dont trip; is this making sense to you?" Grinning, he nods his head. "I mean, the way you explain it," he starts, looking up at me. "Is this one of my new duties?" Going down the inventory sheet with my finger, I nod absentmindedly. "Collin and I do a lot of- business. Outside of here. For days we cant come in, I need someone here who is able to keep the shop up and running," turning to face him, I smile. "Ever imagine yourself being the manager of a liquor store?" At this, he laughs and it makes the bottles behind us ring. "Cant day that I have."
"Well, neither did i," i confess, sending in the final count. "But stranger things have happened. You're catching on quick, and who knows; maybe one day I'll run away to Mexico and this empire of shit will be yours." Axel laughs again, asking me of I just quoted Nine Inch Nails. Smiling ear to ear, I nod my head. "You caught the reference! Nice!" Raising my hand, he greets it with a high five. "You know," he goes on to say, grabbing a sample bottle of whiskey. "For a cold blooded Mafia don-ette... you're pretty fucking chill." Again, my cheeks redden. "Thanks, Axel. And for a burnt out high school drop out, you're pretty smart." I wink and he wipes the whiskey from his mouth, continuing to laugh. The front door bells chime, alerting us of a customer. Taking my eyes off of the ordering page, I look up and see Mickey sauntering over to the counter. Turning to Axel, I ask him to take inventory of the wine bottles in the back. "Make a column for reds and a separate for whites," I instruct, before turning my full attention to Mickey. Once I know Acel is out of earshot, I tell Mick, "Saw your boyfriend is back. You've gotta be relieved."
"Not really," Mickey laments, looking around the store. "Hes dancing at some fucking club; got so high last night, I had to carry him home." I nod at this and tell him my suspicions. "Gotta be meth," I shrug. Mickey takes it in, his eyes to the ground. "Anyways," he finally says. "I need you to come with me; gotta business proposition." Curiosity piqued, I call Axel to the front and ask him to watch the front. "Got it," he grins, his eyes red and his clothes reaking of weed. Rolling my eyes, I follow Mickey out of the store.

Once at the Alibi Room, Mickey introduces me to the new owner, Kevin Ball. "You two ever meet?" He asks. "Never officially," I say, holding my hand out for him to shake. "Yeah, yeah, well, here's the deal," Mickey continues. "Jagger here, shes gonna be collecting my share of the money, since obviously your ass can't be trusted." I look to Kevin and see a flash of fear in his eyes."Is this, like, some mob thing?" He asks, his eyes darting from me to Mickey. "No, it's like a 'you lost our fucking money and I can't fucking trust you' thing," he points at Kevin's chest. Going on, he tells him, "I'm also sending my brother down here as security. The big one, Collin. Since in adding two more services, ima need it to be 50/50 now." "Two services?" Kevin starts. "You're fucking sister in law is working for YOU," he points to me. "Two bodies, 10% each," Mickey says in a tone that says its final. Disgruntled, Kevin gives me the once over. Slickly, I pull my pants up, my shirt getting caught on my hand and pulled enough to expose my gun handle. Kevin gulps, then tells Mickey, "Your brother marrying into the Mafia; was that a business move? Cause it sure as fuck benefits you guys." At this, Mickey and I turn to each other and repress our laughter. Brushing my hair back from my eyes, I click my tongue and look the simple man in the eyes. "You give the Family too much credit, Kevin. The reputation I've acquired has been hard earned; bodies dont wrack themselves up on their own," I shrug, holding in a grin as his eyes widen. "If anything," I continue, "marrying into the Milkoviches was a strategic move on my part; the Family is bust your knee caps, but the Milkoviches will just blow your fucking brains out. "