The next day, Lindsey was presented with a surprise when she awoke. On her bedside table sat a pink case. She sat up and clicked the locks open. Inside sat a pistol.
She nervously picked it up, examining it. The grip was black and it sported a deep pink body with a chrome barrel, trigger, and hammer. The revolver felt good in her hand as she held it, surprised at its weight. She tucked it back into its case, dressed quickly, slicked her short hair back under a black hat, and headed for the indoor range, taking the pink case with her.
Yelena and Kirill were nose-to-nose in an argument when she walked in. They froze and looked at her for a moment.
"You have until one o'clock," Yelena said, pointing a finger in the gunman's face. "You come to my room at one, no exceptions," she added to Lindsey as she stormed away.
Kirill's expression was unreadable, but Lindsey had the distinct impression that he was debating how much Yorgi would beat him if he shot Yelena.
She spent the morning with Kirill, learning every thing there was to know about her new .38 Special. She was pleased that there wasn't too much recoil on it and found she rather enjoyed shooting the handgun.
"Try this," Kirill said, handing her a sleek, black rifle. It had a ridiculously long magazine hanging from the bottom.
Lindsey took the heavy rifle and shouldered it.
"Squeeze the trigger and hold on," Kirill said.
Lindsey blinked at him, took aim and squeezed. The rifle pounded into her shoulder in rapid secession, until it clicked.
She removed her protective ear coverings. "Kirill," she breathed, "that's fully automatic."
He smiled and took it from her. He dropped the clip and clicked in a fresh one, then handed it back to her. For the first time since she'd met him, Lindsey was enjoying Kirill's company.
She fired off another bunch of rounds, her shoulder aching in the process. "I'd be fine if I could carry one of these."
"Not easy to conceal," Kirill said, lighting a cigarette.
"True," she admitted, reaching out and sliding a cigarette from his pack. They stood in silence for a bit, smoking and thinking about the weapons they held.
"Did you pick this out?" she asked, looking down at the pink and silver revolver.
Kirill wrinkled his long, straight nose. "I would not pick something pink. I choose caliber only." His cell phone rang and he looked at it before answering. "Yelena," he told Lindsey.
Lindsey listened as Yelena's voice screeched through the phone and Kirill yelled back in angry Russian. He hung up the phone and growled at it, "Send Viktor, stupid bitch. I not afraid of him."
"I better go, huh?" Lindsey asked.
Kirill nodded.
Lindsey stuck the revolver back into its case.
"No good there," Kirill said. "Put it here." He turned and showed her how he had his own pistol tucked into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back.
She uncertainly did the same and found the cold metal of the gun pressing against her skin comforting. She said thanks and ran from the range, heading for Yelena's room.
Yelena was standing there impatiently with the same stylist from the day before. "She fix your hair," was all Yelena said before leaving the room.
Lindsey pouted and sat back down. She wasn't in the mood for this.
"Let's get to it," the stylist said.
Several hours later, Lindsey's black and red dreads were back in place, tight and sleek as they originally were, but much longer this time. From the five-inch-wide ponytail, they fell to her waist. These were much heavier than before.
"I feel like I'm getting a face-lift at the same time," she said.
"It's an awesome look on you," the stylist said.
"Well, you were much faster than the last girl who did them."
"Thanks."
"Thanks for fixing my hair," Lindsey said.
"Not a problem."
When she returned to her room, she found Kolya waiting there.
"There you are," he smiled.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
He held up the small plastic bag full of green plant matter.
She smiled appreciatively. "I need that."
They smoked the whole bowl from his bong, and she felt nothing.
"The fuck is this, ditch weed?" she asked.
"Better not be," he answered, with an ornery grin.
"Load it again," she ordered.
"Again?" he asked.
"I wanna get high, goddammit, and I'm going to. Load it again."
Kolya snickered and reloaded the bowl.
"What's so damn funny?" she asked, growing impatient. The only thing worse than not having weed was having weed that didn't work.
They smoked again and still she felt nothing.
"You got ripped off," she said nastily to him. "Where's the stuff we had from last night?"
"In my room. I bought different types this time," he answered, still laughing.
"Different… types?" she asked.
"This creeper," he answered. "Your mind will be blown in about five minutes."
She looked at him in horror. "And you let me smoke two bowls?"
He laughed openly at her.
"You sonuvabitch."
It didn't take the full five minutes for the affects to hit her. The next thing she knew, she could barely stand. She gripped the post of her headboard to hold herself up.
Kolya was rubbing at his face. "I can't feel my face," he said, chuckling to himself.
"Maybe it fell off," she said, crawling across the bed to him.
He looked at her in horror. "No."
She nodded in earnest, trying to suppress her laughter. "It totally did."
Kolya tried to stand up from the bed and fell to the floor, making a terrible, thundering racket. He crawled to the bathroom and, using the black sink to pull himself up, looked in the mirror. "You lie."
She fell sideways on the bed, laughing loudly.
He fell against the doorway of the bathroom, laughing with her.
"This is the best stuff ever," Lindsey said. "Ah, I love you, Kolya."
"But you are getting married," he said. "We cannot be."
"If I wasn't, I would totally be with you," she giggled.
Kolya stood up straight and puffed his chest out. "I am too much man for you to handle."
"Oh, I could handle you," she said playfully, then laughed again.
"You are silly," he answered.
"You would love me," she teased, getting to her knees on the bed.
"I love many women," he boasted.
"You don't love them," she corrected, "you fuck them."
Kolya shrugged. "Tomato, tomahto."
"I say potato, you say potahto, I say tomato, you say tomahto," Lindsey sang.
Kolya clapped a hand over Lindsey's mouth and stared deep into her eyes. She blinked at him. "Your singing is terrible," he said in a serious tone, his shoulders shaking heavily. He held his hand there for a few seconds longer until he couldn't hold it any more and snorted loudly, falling over the bed again and laughing.
She laughed along with him, silently. Her sides ached. No air was coming in or going out. She was stuck in silent laughter, shaking all over. Finally she drew a deep breath and screamed loudly, her laughter filling the room.
"P-Potahtoes!" she laughed.
"What's taters, precious?" Kolya asked in his best Gollum impression.
Lindsey screamed in laughter again. "PO-TA-TOES! Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew!"
They both tumbled off the bed, laying on the floor on either side of it, laughing like a couple of maniacs. Kolya's phone rang and he army-crawled around the side of the bed. "Shh! S-Shh!" he snickered. "It's Yorgi."
She clapped her hands over her mouth, shoulders heaving with laughter.
"D-Da?" he said into the phone.
Yorgi's voice came through, but Lindsey couldn't understand what he was saying.
"Da," Kolya said in a more serious tone and hung up the phone.
Lindsey laughed loudly again.
"I have to see Yorgi," Kolya said, pushing himself to his feet. He was suddenly sober.
She blinked slowly up at him. "How can you turn it on and off like that?"
Kolya shrugged his shoulders and tried not to laugh again. "I not know."
She laughed some more and he stumbled to the door, then shook his head, ran his fingers through his short, blonde hair, and left.
She pulled herself to her feet and stared around the room. It was smoky and smelled of marijuana. Picking up the lighter Kolya had left behind, she started lighting the many pillar candles she had on the tops of her pieces of furniture, still giggling to herself as she did so.