We drove in silence, heading outside the French Quarter into the greater part of New Orleans. Leafy streets were marked with a few dilapidated houses, their once bright colours washed and faded with time. The effects of the hurricane could still be felt years later, with many either not having the financing or resources to fix their homes or simply choosing not to - opting to remove themselves from the area entirely. The car rumbled along until we pulled into a very plain, nondescript car wash.
It looked lonely and not at all appealing. The cracked concrete and empty wash bays made me cringe for the people who worked here and the place internally. I had to remind myself that this was all a front and that those who worked here were part of Dimitri’s organisation - which was so much larger than the surface value of his business. A faded blue sign with white cursive writing welcomed us to Wendy’s Car Wash.
No doubt, Wendy had long since disassociated with the place - or perhaps she never existed to begin with. I had read that police were less likely to investigate places of business that were either run by a woman or looked like they were - i.e. in the name of said business. Is that what Dimitri was doing here?
A small wooden house sat to the left of the wash bays, its wood bleached and warped from the weather.
Displeasure coated the back of my throat, my legs seemed heavy, refusing to cooperate in carrying me the short distance from the car to the wendy house, as if my body had accepted that a death was about to be issued, before my mind could fully catch up to the concept.
Would Dimitri kill her here? Surely not. Still, I swallowed audibly. Dimitri’s annoyed glance in my direction did absolutely nothing to dispel my nerves.
Jeanette was smaller than I had imagined. Even though I had seen her in my mind's eye, it was always different meeting someone in person. Her brown hair was pulled into a messy top knot. Dark eyeliner highlighted the blue of her eyes, and perhaps in another life - in another time - she and I could have been friends. Her eyes widened as she watched Dimitri, Arlo, and myself walk across the cracked cement paving towards the wooden shed. She clasped and unclasped her hands, a nervous gesture. I had seen the women at the burlesque club stare at Dimitri - their gazes filled with lust and the knowledge that a powerful man was in their midst.
There was nothing like that in Jeanette’s gaze. In her position, I would have been nervous as well. In fact, walking towards her, sandwiched between these two men, my heart seemed to beat a mile a minute and I constantly had to remind myself to breathe or else I would be sick.
The wooden house is too small to accommodate all of us - perhaps if Dimitri and Arlo were smaller men, we may have squeezed in, but with the three of us side-by-side, we never would have fit. I would have preferred to hang back - even if it meant standing alone in the dismal parking lot, but it seemed that Dimitri and Arlo had other plans, neither one moved an inch, refusing to relent and give any sort of space. I wasn’t stupid enough to voice my protest - to tellthem to let me hang out on that cracked piece of concrete, instead I swallowed down the words that were ready to fly out unprompted and remained lodged between them.
Jeanette understood their body language better than I had, and scurried towards the doorway, her face tilted up in greeting.
“You look well, Jeanette,” Arlo’s voice was smooth and controlled, the melodic tone immediately putting you at ease. Still, Jeanette fidgeted with her hair, swallowing audibly. I couldn’t blame her, no doubt, we made a formidable image.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” her smile was strained. Her voice was husky and images if her bar-hopping and singing karaoke tumbled through my mind. She was young and so full of life - she didn’t deserve this. She had simply fallen in love with the wrong guy - and how many women suffered the same fate? You don’t choose who you fall for, your heart does that without you.
Dimitri lowered his sunglasses, glaring at her from the doorway. He didn’t have to say a word for the threat to be clear. I shivered uncontrollably. This visit wasn’t for the sole purpose for me to ‘meet’ Jeanette, it was for them to threaten her. They had dragged me with as part of their charade. No, that wasn’t right either - I had come willingly. I had fucking played into Dimitri’s hand and risen to the bait so that he could drag me here - a witch - to intimidate this poor girl.
Did she know who I was? If she didn’t, I was certain that they would make it known.
“We decided to stop by and check on our investment,” Arlo removed an imaginary piece of lint from his suit jacket, and my stomach hollowed out as I watched the conversation unfold before me.
I quietly seethed, fuming at my own damn revelation, annoyed that I hadn’t seen the signs sooner.
“Where’s your boyfriend, Jeanette?” Dimitri’s voice was low and menacing, and up until this exact moment, I think that I had somehow forgotten that I was staying with members of the mob. These were dangerous, dangerous men.
Jeanette blinked, dipping a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “I, um,” she fumbled, “don’t have a boyfriend.”
Dimitri’s expression didn’t change, “Tell Olek that we’re looking for him.”
“But -” Jeanette’s protest was cut short as Dimitri stepped towards her, and I watched as she struggled to shrink away from him.
“Let’s not lie to one another,” Dimitri purred, and even I shivered from the sensual tone it carried. “We’re letting you go on the condition that you deliver that one message to Olek.”
Jeanette remained motionless except for her trembling lip.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she stuttered again.
“You can also tell him to pass on a message to Sergei,” Dimitri hissed.
Jeanette’s eyes widened, but she remained silent. Dimitri’s eyes glowed in delight at her submission. What a jackass.
“Tell him to tell Segei that we have our own Vedman, and we don’t intend to hand over anything to him or his Voodoo bitch.”
Jeanette’s gaze flicked to mine in understanding and I watched as she shook slightly in fear.
“I don… don’t know what you’re talking about,” she swallowed audibly.
The tension within that small wooden hut was at uncomfortable levels and I wanted nothing more than to flee the entire situation, to run back to my mother, marry Andrew and join my father’s firm. Instead, I held firm. refusing to allow even a sliver of emotion to crest my face.
“Don’t even start with me, Jeanette,” Dimitri’s voice was low and filled with anger, “you are lucky that it’s not you we are hunting, but because you are underage we are going to let you fly under the radar, so,” he leant even closer to her, her hand shaking visibly, and growled, “I suggest you pack up your shit because today is officially your last day.”
As we turned to leave, Jeanette’s glassy eyes overflowed, her cheeks stained with the knowledge that one way or another, her lover would die. My heart ached for her as the tears dribbled down her face. Dimitri pressed his hand along the small of my back and guided me towards the car.
I needed to phone Charl - we needed to remove ourselves from this situation fast, because despite my broken moral compass, the Club couldn’t be associated with determining who should live and die by the Bratva’s hand.