My Dirty Bet
An Alpha-Male Mafia Comedy Short Story
By Grace Risata
Copyright © March 24, 2016 by Grace Risata All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Please note: This story takes place roughly four years before the events in “My Dirty Detour.”
It is not necessary to have read “My Dirty Detour” but it helps because you will have some idea of the backstory of the characters.
This story is dedicated to all my fans: past, present, and future. Enjoy the ride!
If you like this short story, and you haven’t read “My Dirty Detour” yet, you can purchase a copy on Amazon. The book has all these crazy characters in it…and loads more that you might want to meet!
It was a gloomy, rainy night when five people walked into a bar. The bar was called FALLEN ANGELS, and these folks looked like they were the furthest things from Angels that you could possibly imagine. The four muscular gentlemen and one tough-looking lady gave off the impression that it would be a grave mistake to try and mess with them. They were certainly a motley looking crew. Dmitry, Rocky, and Sergio, being the single ones of their group, immediately began to size up the ladies in their immediate vicinity. The remaining two members of their party didn’t care who else was in the bar because they were married to each other. Vasily knew better than to have a roaming eye. He also instinctively knew that no one would ever be able to top his wife, Irina in the looks department. She was his dream girl, fantasy, and soul-mate…all rolled into one delicious package.
“This is the LAST time that you get to pick which bar we go to. This place is a dump,” Sergio complained. Sergio was in his mid-twenties with classic Italian good looks. He had medium length wavy dark hair that was carefully slicked back with more than a handful of gel. Sergio was wearing tight black jeans, black boots, and a gray V-neck shirt that hugged his muscular chest in all the right places. He was wearing a Rolex watch and kept checking the time, so that everyone else would naturally be drawn to his wrist and they would also notice that he was wearing a Rolex watch. Sergio was all about being noticed.
“It is NOT a dump. I heard from a guy who heard from a guy that this was THE place to pick up ladies. I’m all about picking up a hot girl tonight and taking her home,” Dmitry admitted. Dmitry was a bit shorter than Sergio, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in bulk. Dmitry was extremely brawny and would not hesitate to put anyone in their place who challenged him. If you ignored him, then you were fine. But if you poked the sleeping tiger…let’s just say you didn’t want to find out what happened when he woke up. Dmitry had a strong sense of loyalty and family, but he was missing the day that remorse was passed out.
“What the fuck am I doing here then? Why did Vasily and I need to come if you three morons are just trying to get laid? You sure as hell don’t need us as wingmen!” the beautiful Russian beauty exclaimed. Irina was the lone female of the group, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t kick the asses of any of her four companions. She really could have been a supermodel, if not for her horrible attitude and hatred of people. She did what she wanted and nothing more. There was no way she would take orders from anyone. This didn’t work too well when she was walking down the street and a photographer tried to take her photo and give her his card for a modeling agency and she grabbed the camera right out of his hand and smashed it on the pavement. She marched to the beat of her own drum, and anyone who didn’t like it better get the hell out of the way.
“Irina, baby, you know that I like to hang out with the guys every once in a while and you promised we could go see the band that was playing tonight. Now I’m not going to hold it against you that the drummer was checking out your rack and you had to march onstage and hit him with his own drumstick. I know you get in your moods every once in a while. I’m just saying that I want to hang out with the guys a little while longer, okay? Ever since Dmitry started working for your uncle, I don’t get to see him as much. I need time to hang out with my brother. He’s the only family I have,” Vasily explained. With the same husky build as his brother, Vasily was also a force to be reckoned with. However Vasily didn’t get quite as much in the brains department and he didn’t really have a mean bone in his body. How Vasily turned out so easy going with a brother like Dmitry and a wife like Irina…well, that was anybody’s guess. Evidently there couldn’t be that many bosses, some people just had to be the ones to take the orders instead of give them. That’s where Vasily fit nicely into the picture. He was good at listening to people and doing what he was told.
“Vasily, get out of your wife’s ass, ok? I don’t mind having Dmitry’s little brother follow us around, but I can’t stand the way Irina has you so pussy-whipped. If you’re going to play with the big boys, man up!” Rocky ordered, shaking his head. Rocky was easily the most threatening out of the entire group of five, and that was really saying something. Like he was the meanest inmate in the prison system or something to that effect. The toughest of the tough. He did not back down from a challenge and he had the scars to prove it. Let’s just say after a fight with him, the losing opponent was lucky to be able to walk away, and in most cases wasn’t that fortunate.
“What’s the plan tonight, boys? It’s already eleven o’clock and I need to scope the place out to choose the lovely lady who I take home for a wild night of passion, Sergio Style.”
“Sergio Style? What does that even mean? You’re going to get her drunk to get into her pants and then disappoint her with your limp dick? Because that sounds about right,” Dmitry suggested with a smile on his face. Dmitry always brought his A-Game when Sergio was involved. The men loved to rip on each other every single chance they got. It was like a hobby. Or an obsession.
“Very funny, douchebag. At least I can get a girl to go home with me without having to PAY her,” Sergio responded. He was a big fan of busting Dmitry’s ass and he was smug in the fact that his one-liners were usually better.
“I’m not playing referee tonight, assholes. Let’s put your money where your mouths are okay?” Rocky said. He only had two beers at the concert because they had to leave early in the set. If Irina hadn’t gone psycho on the drummer, Rocky would have been well on his way to a nice buzz right now. Rocky considered himself the smartest of the lot of them and he was forming a plan to make some easy cash.
“What do you have in mind, Rocky? If it involves kicking Dmitry’s ass at anything, which I’m sure I will have no problem doing, you know I’m in. Also, I can’t resist a good bet. Whatcha got? And make sure the stakes are high enough to make it worth my while,” Sergio instructed.
“Fine. Here’s the wager. We got a three way competition,” Rocky explained. “It’s me, Sergio, and Dmitry. Vasily can’t play because he’s married. Same goes for Irina. They will be the judges. The object is to get as many REAL phone numbers as you can in one night. You have to have the woman write their numbers down on a piece of paper IN THEIR HANDWRITING and you have to take pictures of them with your phone. If you have a number and no picture or a picture and no number, it doesn’t count. Whoever has the most at the end of the night wins the money in the pot. Everyone is putting up a crisp hundred dollar bill. Give the money to Irina to hold. The game starts NOW.”
Sergio, Dmitry, and Rocky all pulled out a Benjamin Franklin from their wallets and handed them over to Irina. She smiled and happily pocketed the cash.
“One more rule,” Irina added. “The one who gets the hottest chick at the end of the night, to be judged by ME, gets an extra sixty bucks. Everyone throw in another twenty bucks.”
The guys did as they were told and nodded their heads in approval at Irina’s suggestion. This would make it fair so they had an extra incentive to get pretty girl’s numbers and not just target less attractive girls who would be more willing to give out their information.
“I got dibs on the hot one in the corner with the green dress,” Dmitry called out in an effort to lock up his top choice.
“Fuck that. Let’s do Rock, Paper, Scissors,” Sergio demanded.
Sergio picked Paper because Dmitry always picked Rock.
“Damn it, Sergio. You’re really good at this game. You win every time,” Dmitry complained.
“That’s because you always pick Rock, you fucking idiot,” Rocky explained.
“Hey, shut the hell up! Don’t give him any help,” Sergio shouted. Sergio liked keeping his winning strategy away from Dmitry.
This was going to be interesting. I was having a great night tonight and now it was only getting more amusing. Dmitry and Sergio were well on their way to getting drunk and Rocky might actually lose his inhibitions a little bit. He never lost complete control. That one was too guarded. He needed to loosen up a little if he was going to have any fun in life. I do give him credit for inventing his little game of the evening. Although I don’t think he would have brought it up in the first place if he didn’t already have a strategy to win. Rocky was nothing, if not ruthless in competition. I had a feeling he would be making some easy money tonight.
“Vasily, do you want to make a side bet with me?” I asked my husband as I took on a pout to make myself look sad.
“What’s the matter, sweetie? Why do you look upset? Did you hurt yourself when you smacked that drummer with his drumstick?” Vasily asked me. He always worried about me. I loved that man. I had an enormous appreciation for the fact that he put me first in his life. His life pretty much revolved around me and Dmitry. I had no issues with Dmitry. He had proven himself to be a loyal brother to my Vasily and I couldn’t ask for anything else than that.
“I’m upset because I feel left out. You know how competitive I am. I want to be in on the bet.”
“You know I would do anything for you. What can I do to make you feel better?”
“Let’s do a side bet. Just you and me. I will pick who I think will win and you choose who you want. If I pick the winner, then I decide what we do in bed tonight. If you win, you get to decide.” My husband and I both liked to role play. The only time we ever disagreed was when it came to what we did in the bedroom. He liked certain situations and I liked certain situations and sometimes they were very far apart on the scale of kink.
“Ok, you have a deal! I’m going to pick Dmitry and if he wins, you have to dress up like…I don’t know yet. Let me think about it. What do you want if you win?” Vasily asked me.
“I pick Rocky. If he wins, then I want you to dress up for ME. I want you to dress like Tarzan and walk around in a loin cloth.”
“Okay…I guess. Sure, why not?” Vasily replied. He seemed to think about this for a minute and then added, “But we’re the judges. How can we be fair if we have a side bet?”
“The one with the most numbers wins. We just get to judge the hottest one.”
“Oh. I get it. You’re on then!” Vasily agreed.
This was going to be like taking candy from a baby. Those dumbasses didn’t question the challenge for a second. You’d have thought they would have added more terms and conditions. Since it was my idea, I already had a fool-proof strategy to win. In the game of life, I was a major player. No one beat me EVER, and certainly not at my own game. Let me take a look around the room and see what we have here. Nice redhead, busty brunette, lots of blondes, some Latino ladies. Hmm. I had a lot to work with. Fortunately I had a strategy that would work on all of them. Sometimes I was so smart, I scared myself.
Before I could put my plan into action, I was approached by a seriously sexy Italian woman. I wonder if she knew who I was? We were in different neighborhood than we usually hung out in. I knew I was rising in the ranks, so maybe word was getting around that I was not to be fucked with. Is it possible this babe recognized me and wanted to see if she could tame a bad boy? Hell, I wouldn’t even have to cheat to win this fucking game.
“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but notice…” she started to speak. I gave her my best smile and tried not to scare her off. This was no easy task. My expression of choice was usually a scowl. No one typically even dared speak to me, let alone make the first move. This lady had balls.
“Yes?” I said as non-threateningly as possible.
“I noticed the guy you were with, the hot one in the gray shirt, and I was wondering if you could introduce me to him? He’s fucking sexy as all hell. What’s his name?” she asked.
I gave her a look that I hope conveyed “get the fuck away from me” and I lost the polite demeanor. “He speaks English, honey. Go ask him his own fucking name. I ain’t his mama.”
I turned back around on my bar stool and set about putting my plan into action. Clearly there was no way I was getting any numbers on my own. For some reason, women were afraid of me. I don’t know why. They’re stupid.
I signaled for the bartender to come over and I asked him for a favor. I needed a tray with thirteen shots of gin, a jar of maraschino cherries, a wedding ring, and a T-shirt with the bar’s logo. For his troubles, I gave him a fifty dollar bill. If I had any hope of recouping my hundred, it was going to take a small initial investment to get the ball rolling. It takes money to make money. I was all in.
This night was so great! I was out with my lady AND my brother and our new friends, Rocky and Sergio. Dmitry and I just started hanging out with those new guys a few months ago, but I was already feeling like they fit right in with us. I was really happy. My brother tends to not get along well with others. Ok. That’s not being very honest. Dmitry usually hates everyone and wants to beat the shit out of them. Most of the time it’s me who has to stop him from killing people, but I can’t be around all the time. Especially since I just got married six months ago to my beautiful Irina. She’s amazing. Just look at her. She’s wearing skin-tight black jeans and figure-hugging black tank top with the words “DIRTY BITCH” on it. No wonder the drummer stared at her. You couldn’t NOT look at my gorgeous wife. I don’t blame the drummer. I did feel sorta bad for him when she jumped on stage and started pounding on him. Yeah, I could have stepped in and stopped her, but she didn’t like it when I did that. Sometimes she just needed to get the anger out. I loved her anyway even if she had a bad temper. She got along with my brother and that’s the most important thing in my book. I was so grateful to have found my soul mate and gotten married so young in life. Irina and I were only 20. I would be twenty-one in a few weeks. I hope she was planning something for my birthday. I wanted a surprise party.
I also love my brother. Which is why I want him to win tonight. I also want him to win so I don’t have to wear a loin cloth and be Tarzan. I mean I don’t have any vines to swing from in the bedroom, so how am I even going to do that? I’m not creative at all.
I better go find Dmitry and see if I can help him out. Maybe I can take a quick loop around the bar and see who I think would be most easy to get a phone number from. But I can’t let Irina find out because she’ll yell at me for cheating on the bet and helping Dmitry, and she’ll also beat the shit out of any girl who looks at me. Maybe I better just go find Dmitry and ask him how I can help him. Yeah. That should be safe.
Ah…there he is. Talking to a guy dressed like a girl. Well that doesn’t count, does it?
“Dmitry, do you need any help? I want you to win. Did you see that girl over there?” I asked my brother.
“Dude. Did you NOT see the girl I was just talking to when you walked up and interrupted my conversation?” Dmitry scolded me. “How am I going to win if you keep cock-blocking me, bro?”
“Uh…the person you were talking to wasn’t a girl. That was a guy dressed like a girl.”
“Are you sure? Whoa. That’s no good. Maybe it still counts?”
Ok. I’ve got this. Out of all the guys I’m competing against, I have the best looks by far. My best friend, Rocky is far too intimidating to women. He scares the hell out of people. I love the guy, but he has no chance. You’d have thought that being my best friend for the past twenty years since we were in kindergarten….some of my talents with the female half of the species would have rubbed off on him….but nope. That was fine with me. He made a good wingman. All the ladies flocked to me whenever we went out and I didn’t have to worry about calling dibs on any of them because they naturally gravitated towards me and avoided him like the plague.
I didn’t have to worry about Dmitry either. That Russian wanna-be tough guy was an idiot. He could kill and injure and maim with the best of them, but he had no skills with the ladies. This would be the easiest money I ever made. I wonder what I should spend it on? Probably clothes. Or a new tattoo. My right arm still looked sort of empty and there was a new design I’d been thinking about for a while. Yeah, that’s it. That’s exactly what I’ll buy with my windfall.
Ok. So who do I want to pick first? There’s a hot Italian girl talking to Rocky. I’ll let him have his one pick for the night. I’ll get the rest of them. There’s a nice blonde girl over there. She fits all my criteria. Tight dress, giant tits – doesn’t bother me one bit if they’re real or not – a handful is a handful, and long straight hair flowing down her back. Something to wrap my hands around later when she’s screaming my name. Fuck yeah. I want this one.
“Hey, doll. I was just wondering if you knew that dress on you was very becoming. Of course…if I was on you…I’d be coming too,” I said, delivering my best pickup line as I winked at her. Did it work? Sometimes. If not, I’d just move on to the next one. Women were like buses. Another one came along every five minutes.
She cocked her head and gave me the once over. She broke out into a giant grin.
“That’s possibly the lamest pickup line I’ve ever heard in my life. But you’re fucking sexy so I’ll let it go. Do you know anywhere private that we can get to know each other better?”
I was supposed to be getting phone numbers and pictures and not taking ladies into the bathroom for a quickie….but fuck that stupid bet. I’d take real ass over a dumb game any day of the week. I grabbed her hand and led her towards the ladies room. They were always cleaner than the men’s room. And if any other girls heard her moans of ecstasy and wanted their turn with me next…all the better!
I can’t believe that was really a dude and not a chick. Thank God Vasily had my back on that one or it could have gotten really ugly. It’s a shame because I was pretty close to getting that one’s number. I would have punched the person in the face for not telling me they were really a dude, but that would have gotten us kicked out of the bar and I really wanted to win the money. I think I was a lock for the win. Rocky looked like a fucking FBI agent the way he stood with his arms crossed and never smiled at all. He would probably come in dead last. Sergio was a man-whore and used lame pick-up lines. I was hoping he would get smacked for talking shit to the wrong girl or else maybe a clingy one would latch on to him and follow him around for the night, preventing him from getting too many numbers.
I had to get my head in the game. This was my battle to lose. Who’s next on my list? Oh. What have we here? A raven haired beauty sitting all alone on a bar stool scanning the room. She must be looking for me. She just doesn’t know it yet. I believe that’s my new target.
“Hey, beautiful. Come here often?” I asked her. True, it wasn’t original. But I always like to stick to the classics. All I needed was to get my foot in the door.
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do come here often. With my boyfriend. He’s in the bathroom and he’s not going to like it very much if he comes out and sees you talking to me.”
Really? Had to give me attitude right off the bat like that? She couldn’t nicely let me down easy? Or maybe…she likes me BETTER than her boyfriend and she wants to trade up? She is pretty attractive. I’d give her a solid seven out of ten. Dark hair falling over her shoulders in tousled waves, figure hugging blue dress that shows off her curves and brings out the vivid color of her eyes, matching blue high heels. I’m a sucker for a woman in heels.
“Do you think I’m afraid of your boyfriend? I’m fairly certain I can take anyone down with little to no effort on my part. Do you think these guns are just for show?” I asked while flexing my muscular arms. It’s true that I had so many beers that I lost count, but I had no problem defending myself EVER so I wasn’t too concerned about how big her boyfriend might be. I also didn’t give a shit if he had friends. Because I did too. And I’m pretty sure that my friends were a hell of a lot more bad-ass than his were.
“Brandi, is this guy causing you problems? Cuz if he is, I’d be happy to teach him a lesson,” a voice from behind me foolishly spoke.
I slowly turned around and raised my eyebrow at him. “I really hope you’re talking to me because I’m about to beat the living shit out of you. Which is probably going to be more fun than fucking your girlfriend would have been anyway.” It’s go time, motherfucker!
Instead of being the slightest bit afraid when he saw the six guys standing behind Brandi’s boyfriend, Dmitry got a little bit turned-on. Violence generally had that effect on him.
“Seven against one? Now that hardly seems fair, boys. Don’t you have any more friends to help you out? Because I’m going to kick all of your asses by myself!” Dmitry bragged while winking at Brandi.
“Hey, D. Don’t hog all the action. Let your brother have some fun too. You take half and I take half,” Vasily proudly offered, puffing out his chest. He was happy to bust heads and help his brother all in one shot.
“How the fuck did you two manage things before you met me? Seven divided by two is NOT three and three. Let’s add me into the mix. I can take out at least four of them. Re-do the math on that,” Rocky commanded.
“Well that doesn’t work evenly at all,” Irina said, clearly elated to join the fight. “How about if you each take two guys and I get the last guy and the bitch? Is everyone agreeable to that?”
“Who are you calling a bitch, you fucking whore? Read your own damn shirt, twat!” Brandi bravely called out from her bar stool. She must have thought the seven big linebackers she was with would protect her. She thought wrong.
Irina looked down at her T shirt. “Dirty Bitch. Yes, it does say that, doesn’t it? Do you want to know how a dirty bitch behaves? Let me show you.”
Before anyone knew what was happening, Irina threw herself at Brandi and dragged the poor girl off her barstool by the hair. Brandi tried to claw at Irina’s hands in order to get free of her tight grasp. It wasn’t working. Instead Irina pulled Brandi out of the bar and down the nearest alley.
All the men followed, eager to see what would happen next. No one wants to miss a catfight. At night. In the rain. Between, arguably, the two most beautiful girls that had been in the entire place.
The men formed a ring around the ladies and cheered them on. You would have thought Brandi’s boyfriend would have taken one look at Irina and tried to save his girl. Nope. Didn’t happen. The lure of the catfight was too strong. Besides, his buddies would have stopped him if he’d tried to intervene. Brandi was a cheerleader for the college football team that they all played on. Some of them thought she was too snobby for her own good and she could use a lesson that would bring her down a notch.
Irina shoved Brandi into the ring of guys and said, “Walk away. Last chance. Otherwise I’ll have no other choice but to start breaking things. If one of those things that gets broken is a nail after the manicure I just got today, you will not want to see what happens next.”
Brandi wasn’t very bright. The football players were correct in their assessment. She was a bit too arrogant and thought herself to be invincible.
Brandi screeched, “Let’s see how smart your mouth is after I knock out some of your teeth,” and lunged at Irina, slapping her in the mouth. Brandi backed up with a smug look on her face.
Irina then laughed and punched Brandi right in the nose. The cheerleader went down and blood immediately started pouring from her face.
“THAT’S how you throw a punch, asshole,” Irina righteously declared.
Sergio took that moment to come running around the corner.
“What did I miss?” he said, breathlessly. “I take one small bathroom break to bang some random chick, she was hot by the way, and all hell breaks loose? We were right in the middle of fucking against the toilet stall door when a girl busts into the ladies room and screams, ‘giant fight outside between two girls’ and I just KNEW one of them was Irina. Why do you lame fuckers do all the good stuff when I’m not around? Seriously? What the fuck?”
“I sure hope you finished her off before you ran out here. I mean it only takes you…what…forty seconds from start to finish anyway, right?” Dmitry asked, pleased with himself for his witty remark.
“At least I got someone who wasn’t a DUDE. Don’t think I didn’t see who you were flirting with across the room and a take a picture to torment you with later. I’m sure all the guys at Chernobyl Gym would like to see Dmitry and his new BOYFRIEND,” Sergio replied.
“Wait…did you say ‘Chernobyl Gym’ as in the gym where all the Russian Mobsters hang out?” Brandi’s boyfriend asked, while holding his shirt to her nose to stop the bleeding.
“Yeah. What the fuck business is it of yours?” Dmitry asked.
“Nothing. It’s none of my business at all, sir. Just let us go without doing any more damage and we’ll be on our way. We’re really very sorry,” Brandi’s boyfriend sniveled.
Dmitry waved them away and they all took off like the punk-ass cowards they were.
“Excuse me, but can we please add up the numbers and pictures so I can get my money now?” Rocky politely asked.
“I think I should win unanimously because I got the farthest with anyone,” Sergio said.
“Fuck you. You knew the rules going in. If you would rather screw a stranger than play the game correctly, it’s your loss,” Rocky taunted.
“Fine. I got nothing, unless you consider hot bathroom sex as getting something, which I do. In my heart, I win. Dmitry, I highly doubt you got a single number. Care to prove me wrong? Please keep in mind we’re only counting numbers from LADIES,” Sergio advised.
“I didn’t get any numbers. I came really close to having Brandi on lockdown. If her boyfriend would have taken a longer piss, I’m pretty sure I could have gotten to second base before he came back from the bathroom,” Dmitry said, having no firm grasp on reality.
“Then that makes me the winner,” Rocky declared. “I have ten numbers and pictures. Anyone want to see proof? It’s all right here.” Rocky pulled a handful of paper scraps from his pocket and passed them around to the group.
“How the FUCK did you do that?” Sergio asked in astonishment. “You haven’t gotten that much action in a year, let alone ONE night. You cheating cock-sucker!”
“It’s not cheating. It’s strategy. I got the bartender to give me a shirt to make it look like I worked at the bar. I had a tray with shots of gin and I added a maraschino cherry to each shot for effect. I told the ladies that I was testing a new drink and I wanted to get their opinion. I also said we were looking for spokesmodels and I needed their names, numbers, and photos to show my boss later. Since I had the bar T-shirt AND a wedding ring that I also borrowed, the ladies had no reason to doubt my motives. They all bought my story…hook, line, and sinker. I win. Eat shit and hand over the money,” Rocky not-so-humbly demanded.
“Oh, that’s marvelous,” Irina said. “Do you know what that means, Vasily?”
Vasily hung his head in shame and simply said, “Me Tarzan, you Jane!”