What Ignatov knows about Dasha and me, I understood immediately, as soon as he spoke to her. And instead of punching me in the face, he decided to humiliate her.

In general, what is happening now should only be blamed on me. For three months I harassed Dasha, and every time she gave me a worthy rebuff. I even secretly envied Ignatov. And I understood that nothing would shine for me with Dasha, but I could not stop. Addiction from the very first meeting. The more she refused me, the more she fueled my interest.

I saw that my interest was mutual, but she held herself rather steadfastly. Only her views, which she so clumsily tried to hide, spoke of mutual attraction. And the more often we saw each other, the hotter these views became.

If I wanted, Dasha would be in my bed in a matter of days. And only because of Ignatov did I stop myself. It's like he didn't do anything to me. Although if Dasha had hinted at least once that she was glad to be in my bed, even Ignatov would not have stopped me.

Dasha refused, I respected her more and more, although my teeth were already cramping from the desire to lift her skirt and throw her legs over my shoulders.

I think if it were not for her loyalty, there would be no Dasha next to Ignatov. And he knew it.

I don't know why she gave up her positions today. She wanted me from the very first meeting, but why exactly today she allowed me to do with her what I no longer dreamed of, I really don’t know.

But you have to pay for the pleasure. I saw, and my friends told me that Ignatov guessed that something was happening between me and his girlfriend. But he had nothing to show. Even if there were sparks between us, then everything ended with sparks. Yes, he should wear it. Instead, he does not miss a single skirt and, most likely, set surveillance for his other half. He didn't have to wait long. Today we stumbled.

Well, Ignatov, like a real boyfriend, decided to recoup Dasha.

And sitting in this club, I see that Oleg is playing with Dasha. Plays rough and dirty. These vultures-party-goers are sitting around, ready for the sake of profit and another gossip for everything. Ignatov will break it, and then they will finish it off. And I don't like it at all.

It seems that I am no better than Ignatov, I like to have fun with girls, I have not been seen in a relationship, and I have only an interest in Dasha below the waist. I'm interested because it's not available. But for some reason right now I feel guilty.

Feelings of Ignatov are generally on my side, but looking into Dasha's frightened eyes, I feel somehow uncomfortable. Well, she didn’t deserve, girl, such an attitude towards herself.

I see that Dasha is trying to control herself. She still has no idea that he knows about us. And Oleg uses it.

I'm starting to get excited. Every word he says inflames me with rage.

Dasha tries to resist him, but Ignatov is also drunk. I understand that he is now knee-deep in the sea. And yet I can hardly contain myself.

Dasha is nobody to me. I'm not supposed to react so violently to their skirmish, but his mockery of a girl clings to me.

I'm even sure that if there was another girl in place, I would not even look in their direction. Now I want to step in and kick that idiot's ass. And I do not want to analyze what is happening. I don't care what reasons make my heart beat faster and my hands clench into fists. Then I'll figure it out.

He kisses her, and I'm just like a powder keg.

I exchange glances with my friends - Matvey and Vlad. Both shake their heads. It holds me back, but I think not for long.

Dasha meanwhile slaps Oleg. To be honest, I did not expect from her. From her wide-open eyes, I understand that she also did not expect this from herself.

There is such tension in the air. All two hundred and twenty.

But no one is going to interfere. Well, yes, many are afraid of Ignatov. It seems to be better to be friends with him than to be in contra.

And then it started.

I did not think that this freak could reach the assault.

It blows my mind when I see tears in Dasha's eyes.

I interfere. One second before Vlad. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him twitch.

Judging by the heads that simultaneously turned in my direction, I managed to surprise everyone.

But Ignatov was just waiting for this.

Basically, I was just waiting for this. My cup of patience is filled to the brim.

Oleg played. He's trying to make me look like an idiot. But I, like the last fool, try to persuade him to stop, although I understand that the evening will not end with anything good.

Oleg turns Dasha to face me:

- Yes, she is a whore, what would intercede for her! If you want to fuck her, then take it.

He pushes her towards me. The girl loses her balance and falls right on the glass table.

I am no longer in control of myself.

Despite the fact that I put my fist to his face quite well, Ignatov does not stop. He continues to insult the girl. He talks about some money, about how he fucks her, about how she sucks. And for me, his words sound like a red rag. Each of his phrases is like salt on the wound.

I never considered Ignatov a weakling in physical terms. He is quite an athletic guy. I don’t know about now, but once I spent a lot of time training. Therefore, I am even glad that he is a worthy opponent, because there is so much anger in me that it will be enough not only for him.

I don't feel pain. Every time I hit him, I feel so light. I release my rage. Of course, I also get pretty good, but his rage loses compared to mine.

I could go on like this indefinitely, but we are still separated. Like in a cheap TV series, they hold each other. And we breathe heavily and continue to strike with our eyes.

Seconds feel like minutes. And then there is silence.

Sounds return gradually. I look around the room and do not see Dasha.

Matvey shows me with his eyes that she is gone.

I wriggle out of the hands of my seconds, throw my tattered jacket on the floor, and leave.

- Just come to her, and I'll let her go in a circle! - I hear the voice of Ignatov.

I don't even stop. I'm sure this freak will do just that. But now I don't care. I would like to understand myself.

I go downstairs and go to the bar. I want to get drunk in the trash, pick up some girl, and forget this whole evening to hell. At least until tomorrow.

From me, everything diverges in different directions. I must look impressive. I don't care.

- Whiskey! I say to the bartender.

He silently looks, pours a drink into a glass and puts it in front of me.

I drink in one gulp.

Thoughts dance around in my head and I can't catch on to any of them.

- Some kind of bloody party, - the bartender's voice breaks through the music.

I raise my eyes. The bartender hangs back and tries to get away from the conversation. I don't let go of his gaze.

- Yes, the girl here is alone at first with blood on her face, now you! She got drunk and went outside. Will freeze. Yes, you know her, Dasha. Everyone knows her. Ignatov girl.

I curse. I wanted to forget the whole evening. Let Ignatov look after his heifer. I don't really understand why I'm so overwhelmed.

Matthew materializes nearby.

- How are you? - tries to shout over the music friend.

I show my thumb.

- Did you see her?

I shake my head. I rest my forehead on my hand and study the countertop. I feel my friend's eyes on me. And then he leaves. I am sure that he went in search of Dasha. Well, to hell with him. Matvey is right with us, he doesn’t leave people in trouble.

And I myself, I understand that I will not fall asleep until I see that everything is in order with her. Tonight, something has changed, and I don't like it at all.

I catch up with Matvey on the dance floor and yell in his ear:

- Where is Ignatov?

Matthew points up:

- With the women. He doesn't give a shit about Dasha.

Here is the goat. I know what's waiting for me when I run after her. I won't disappoint him. I don't think we're done.

- I'll find it myself!

- Max! He will kill her!

- Come on, not now. Get me everything you can on him.

I have confidence in Matthew. He has not a penny for his soul, but he has more connections than the president.

I go out into the street. Cold. The frost penetrates me to the bone. I shake my head, but I don't see Dasha anywhere.

I asked the crowd who had not passed face control about Dasha. Someone shied away from me, some guy pointed towards the highway.

I go to my Mercedes Gelandewagen. Everything is on autopilot. I sit down, start it, leave the parking lot in the indicated direction.

I saw her right away. At the bus stop. Didn't get far, or couldn't.

I drove up and slowly lowered the window. Dasha was shaking from the cold. And she seems to have had a good time too. But this is not the most important thing. What matters is that it lets me go. I see her and feel really relaxed.

“Sit down,” I say. She glances over at me and shakes her head. She probably doesn't like my look.

I understand that she doesn’t understand anything from the cold, alcohol, and indeed from everything that happened, and in order to cheer her up a little, I yell:

- Fuck, I said, sit down!

She gets up slowly, walks over, thinks for a couple of seconds, and sits down.

And I understand that I just wrote out a portion of sickly troubles from Ignatov for her appetizing ass.

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