K U S T O V (NaNoWriMo 2014)

VII

VII

            Aleksey didn’t know what to do.

            Him and Sergei had been friends for as long as either of them could remember, as long as even their parents could remember. One simply didn’t seem one without the other, and if this was the case, it was rare. It became routine to see the both of them, complimenting each other so well, one dark, exotic, and tall, the other bright cheeked, light eyed, and small. They were so in tune that one instinctively knew what the other wanted or needed, and what they could do to help on a bad day. Sergei knew when Aleksey wanted conversation or just to vent, and Aleksey knew when Sergei was feeling shy or uncomfortable.

            And now, it could have all been for nothing.

            Aleksey knew they couldn’t continue as they had been. Sergei had been… Odd lately, and feelings were out in the open, making it considerably less awkward for Sergei, however more for Aleksey. He knew what Sergei wanted, but for the first time in his life he wasn’t able to provide it. Aleksey loved Elene. She was beautiful, smart, and witty, what more could he ask for?

            He just couldn’t provide the one thing Sergei wanted most.

            Love.

            Of course he loved Sergei. Sergei knew him like Elene never would, how he moved and interacted and felt. Sergei could tell him what he needed and why, but to him Elene was a sun in cloudy skies. She was his way out, his escape, someone that wouldn’t drag him down with her and knew when to cut him out. That was what he needed, not a best friend to follow him around like a puppy when Aleksey didn’t even like him in that way.

            Right?

Ξ

 

            Barney Bellomo didn’t know what to do with his own daughter.

            Ever since the “incident”, she had been quiet, reclusive almost, but not how one would expect a rape victim to be. She didn’t flinch back from him, and her eyes didn’t dart back and forth like a scared rabbit when someone spoke to her. No, she had become almost… Stronger. Amelia had always been flighty. She loved pretty things and disliked conflict, and almost always stayed out of business affairs. She was happy as long as there was food on the table and money in the bank, and that was how it had always been. But lately, she had been curious.

            Too curious.

            Barney continued to find her opening cupboards in the middle of the night, or sifting through his desk while he was gone. She began asking questions, carefully thought out questions, created to receive an answer and put him on his last nerve. She rarely left her room, and when she did she locked it with a key that she kept around her neck at all times. It was suspicious behavior, but Barney didn’t know what to do about it.

            How could he question the antics of one just through a tragic experience? She was bound to act differently, bound to become more secretive and less trusting. It was to be expected.

            She was just a girl… Wasn’t she?

Ξ

            The third incident happened just months after the second, only days after Christmas. On December the 28th, Anton Korov, a drug dealer for the Russian Bratva and a convicted sex offender, opened his apartment to find a large chest sitting inside of his living room filled with the ashes of his entire supply of cocaine with a note sitting on top of it with symbols similar, even identical, to those found at the site of Cameron McKillen in a neat, cursive hand. To the untrained eye, they were just illegible Mandarin characters, but to those who knew them, they meant only one thing.