Her Russian Millionaire

 “Well,” she hummed. “I’m 18, but don’t let my age fool you; I’m ready to work hard-”

 “Let me stop you,” he interrupted. “Tell me things that don’t relate to work. If you’re ready to work hard, you’ll prove that later. I want to hear about things that matter right now.”

 “Like what?” She reached up and nervously fiddled with one of her long twists. Her emotions were raw enough as it was; she couldn’t hold up to being questioned by this stranger. At least Nikita was warm and safe.

 “Marie doesn’t bring just anyone to me. She rescues girls off the street and brings them to me for jobs.” He paused and then said in a much softer voice, “Do you have anywhere to sleep tonight?”

 For a brief moment, she thought she could keep it together. The motions she was making with her hair got rougher as the emotion bubbled up. A lump rose in her throat. She opened and closed her mouth several times, chin quivering. The fear of sleeping in an alley in Los Angeles was something she never wanted to know.

 “No,” she admitted, tears blurring her vision. Her body felt shaky inside, and something inside of her snapped. “We just got here today. We don’t have anywhere to go.”

 “Well, I’m glad that Marie managed to find you before you had to sleep on the streets. You’d be shocked at the stories I hear from homeless women just like you. The last girl Marie brought to me was held down and shot up with drugs over and over until she developed an addiction and willingly did whatever the dealer want- Oh, hey now.” Stone stopped in the middle of his inappropriate story when she started sobbing.

 “I’m so sorry. I’ve just been through too much too fast.” One hand placed on her fluttering chest, she started from the beginning. “My mom was never in the picture. She would have abandoned us before we were even out of her if it was possible. My father raised us. He was a good, good man.”

 “I take it something happened to him?” Stone asked.

 “He died of stomach cancer. It was a long, slow death. You could tell he was in constant pain, but he still kept that smile up. He’d joke around with the nurses, blaming the cancer on too much good home cooking or years of scraping his vegetables into the trash. He could make a friend out of a rock.” Jalisa laughed a bittersweet tone. “His funeral was a few days ago.”

 “You’ve got to be joking. Damn.” Stone whistled, his eyebrows shooting up.

“It’s all true, sadly. What happened next was even worse. The state stepped in since I had only recently turned eighteen and Nikita is only fourteen. They didn’t help one bit. Our mother was untraceable, and we had no other relatives who could take us in. Nikita was to go into foster care, and I was to be shipped to a halfway house on the other side of the state.” Jalisa shook her head. “I took Nikita and ran as far away as we could go by bus. We got here this morning with a little money and some personal possessions.

“I knew it maybe wasn’t the best choice. Nikita’s life has basically been destroyed. She used to play softball and sing in the choir. Those were so important to her. All of her friends are hundreds of miles away, and she isn’t allowed to contact them, or the department could find us and try to separate us. Again. Don’t even get me started about how bad it is that I pulled her out of school.

“Then there’s my life. I graduated high school in May of this year. I was working on going to college. Maybe become a chef. I waited tables and helped my father pay the bills when he got sick. I didn’t have a boyfriend. But there was this guy I’m – well, I was – talking to.”

 “Jalisa, I’ve helped homeless women before. Together we can make a plan to get you back onto your feet.” He leaned across the table and held her hand. Squeezing tightly, he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. Jalisa kept the look of shock off of her face but did not manage to keep her hand still. She pulled it out of his grip and brought it closer to her body.

“Hey,” Stone sounded a bit offended. “It’s okay now.”

She chuckled nervously, an instinctive response when being touched by a man she didn’t like. He laughed as well, and the confident sound was loud enough to drown out everything else. Suddenly, Stone stood up and leaned over Jalisa, his form towering above hers. Fear pumped through her as her eyes widened. He pulled her close to his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

Nose forcefully pressed to his chest, Jalisa realized Stone had a sharp, acidic yet smoky smell that clung to his clothes. That, combined with his forceful touching, made her want to throw up. His hands moved down from her shoulders and rubbed hard circles where the band of her bra stretched across her back. She quickly gave him a squeeze on his shoulder so that he would think positively about her and give her a job.

Thankfully, after a few seconds, the door opened loudly. Stone jerked away as if she had caught on fire and ran into the kitchen. He stood next to the breadbox, looking aggressive. Jalisa watched him for a moment before she figured out that he hid weapons, most likely handguns, around the apartment. Marie rolled her head toward the door.

“It’s Erik,” Marie said, sounding bored. Stone relaxed and took his hand off of the breadbox. He walked back over to the kitchen table and took the seat directly beside of Jalisa instead of his previous one across the table.

Erik walked in and stood in the middle of the room, looking around at the guests. Jalisa knew immediately that he was different than Stone or Marie. He dressed in a well-tailored black suit that made his pale white skin particularly striking. His brown hair was styled in a sleek undercut, with the long top part sweeping over and framing his handsome face. He had a rock hard jawline and curious blue eyes; Jalisa’s heart missed a beat when he looked over her sitting with Stone. She was suddenly aware that she wasn’t wearing makeup and that her jeans were stained.

“Stone,” Erik said, his Russian accent made his voice sound like music. “Why are these girls here? How old are they?”

“Jalisa is eighteen. She’s an adult.” Stone gave Erik a wide smile and reached over to pat Jalisa’s thigh.

“And her?” Erik gestured toward Nikita, who had paused her game to look over at the handsome stranger.

“I’m fourteen, almost an adult.” Nikita spoke up.

“Stone. Office. Now.” Erik didn’t wait for a response. He walked back to the door and Stone followed, looking like a kicked puppy. Marie waited until the two had had enough time to walk down the stairs before speaking.