- It's cold, - she said hoarsely, without moving at all, and looking at one point, in a second her eyes closed.

- Well, what is there, - a slightly hoarse voice of a friend suddenly came from behind.

- Alive! She lost consciousness, - the man took off his cloak and covered Leroux. - Call the doctor quickly. And disperse these onlookers cocky.

The incident broke out not far from the bar, so when they heard the shots, the most desperate ran to see what was happening.

So the doctor is on his way. Hey, Bulatov, what about that condom?

- Let them take it to the warehouse, and make sure that it doesn’t die.

Timothy stood nearby and, crossing his arms over his chest, waited for what would happen next.

- It's horrible. I offered to take you home. She refused, - he shrugged his shoulders, came closer, observing the state of Lera.

Vlad piercingly looked at the bartender, measured his gaze, then picked up the girl and hurriedly carried her to the car. He carefully placed me in the back seat. Walked around the car, throwing a short friend: "Let's go!".

- Backpack, - was heard behind.

The man turned around, Timofey holding Valeria's backpack in his outstretched hand. Bulatov grabbed the thing and without looking back got into the car, closing the door with a bang.

The car sped smoothly down the highway.

The car was filled with much-needed fresh air. Someone tightly, but gently pressed to him. There was a steady breath around him. Lera opened her eyes, taking a quick breath.

She found herself sitting on Vlad's lap. His head was splitting and his neck hurt terribly. Lera felt like a helpless child, unable to hold her head on her own. She swallowed hard, letting out a barely audible groan.

“Almost arrived,” the man lulled, stroking the girl on the back. “Oleg, drive faster,” he ordered his friend, squinting at the road.

- Yes, damn it, and I'm going so fast. Fucking fog. I can not see anything.

- You need to fill your eyes less. Faster!

Oleg clicked his tongue in annoyance and pressed the gas pedal all the way.

Ten minutes later, the "Rover" drove up to the high gate, quickly turned into the courtyard of thirty apartment building, destroying the night rest of the residents. Vlad, practically, flew out of the car, with the girl in his arms, and moved to the entrance.

***

Friends stood on a spacious terrace overlooking the river. Oleg sipped his whiskey with pleasure, leaning on the black metal railing. Vlad leaned against the cold wall, and tirelessly looked at the mist curling in tatters over the dark water.

- A sultry girl, it would be a pity ... She looks like a rocker, - Oleg broke the silence. - Fits. At least someone will be able to slap you in the face, - the man lamented.

Vlad silently looked at his cheerful friend, taking another puff.

- That's the one that hit you, right? I wonder if she has a girlfriend?

- Yeah, - the man answered, - there is a best friend. Necessary?

- You went! - exclaimed Oleg and finished the contents of the glass.

Vlad laughed softly and threw away his cigarette butt, took a lighter and a new cigarette, a second later the brown tobacco blazed brightly and smoke filled the terrace again.

What do you really think about this bartender? Squinting his gray eyes, Oleg glanced at his friend.

- I think nothing. Although it seems to me that this guy is not just a harmless bartender - the man took a deep puff, only to find that the cigarette had gone out. - What the hell?

- Let's listen to what that fucker will sing, - Oleg went to the wicker table and poured himself some whiskey.

Bulatov threw the extinguished cigarette into the ashtray and approached his friend:

- The bartender behaved in a strange way ...

- Well, yes, it's strange, he strangled the girl, - he grinned, taking a small sip, and wincing involuntarily.

- Stop drinking! Vlad snatched the glass and threw it on the floor, the glass shattered with a crash. - I say, this Timothy ... he had a displeased face. He somehow looked hostilely at Leroux.

- Don't freak out, - Oleg raised his hands in surrender. - What did you get to his face?

- Facial expressions and intonation did not match his caring phrase, - the man minted, hiding his hands in his pants pockets.

“Maybe he’s unhappy that his friend was attacked.

- No, Oleg. The devil is in the details. Be careful, - he patted his friend on the shoulder, and went to the living room, seeing that the doctor was approaching him.

- Yes, his relationship with this rocker broke off, so he is furious. Me too, Vlad Holmes,” the man laughed.

Vlad nodded inquiringly, looking at the doctor.

- Everything will be OK. I injected her with medicine, let her rest well. Here, - he tore a sheet out of the notebook and gave it to Vlad, - he wrote what he needed to buy. There are painkillers and sedatives. And tincture, irrigate the throat three times a day for a week to relieve pain and return the voice.

- Thanks. The driver will give you a ride, - Bulatov said monotonously.

- In touch, - the man nodded and headed for the exit. “Take care of yourself, Vladislav,” the gray-haired man smiled and left the dwelling.

The man closed the door and leaned his forehead against the cold black metal. He closed his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts. All these incidents with the girl could shake his plans. And he doesn't have time to deal with her enemies. Vlad clenched the prescription left by the doctor in his fist.

- Well, it's good that you followed her, otherwise that's all, - Oleg said instructively. - Are you asleep?

- Hold it, - Vlad turned and gave a crumpled sheet, - we urgently need to buy it.

The man imposingly walked past his friend towards the room, rolling up the sleeves of a black, slightly wrinkled shirt.

***

In the center of the spacious room is a huge bed with a high leather headboard. The room itself, like the whole apartment, is finished in gray and black tones. It looked very gloomy, but with taste, nothing more.

Quiet, and only the wall clock made monotonous, obsessive sounds.

A black silhouette appeared. He slowly entered the room, barely audibly closing the door behind him. He silently crossed the room and carefully sat down on the bed next to Lera. She was lying on her side, half-asleep looking at one point.

- Are you better? – sympathetically asked, and took her by the hand.

Lera nodded and responded to the gesture, squeezing his hand for a few seconds.

- Now they will bring the necessary medicines. Do not think about anything, rest, - he smiled tightly, not hiding his displeasure.

Taking a sharp breath, the girl tried to say something, but only grimaced and looked at the man.

- Speak quietly, but not in a whisper. The vocal cords tense more when you whisper.

- Tell me, who is that redhead? - Following the advice, the girl said quietly.

- Great, - Vlad chuckled, - you're still jealous. Correctly.

Lera immediately, instead of any eloquence, showed the middle finger. The man grabbed her hand and kissed the back of her hand.

- Sorry. I remember that I promised you, but there were difficulties at work. And that idiot…had information that I urgently needed. No more.

Lera listened attentively, smiled slightly and closed her eyes. The man let go of her hand, carefully covering her with a blanket. Persistent blows were heard sharply at the window. It started to rain. Drops helplessly pounded on the glass, dousing it with coolness.

The girl did not even notice how she fell into a saving dream. There was a soft knock on the door and Vlad took off, quickly crossing the room, opened it.

“We bought everything,” Oleg reported.

The man silently took the package and closed the door in front of his friend. He came back and put the medicines on the neat black bedside table.

The following minutes, ignoring his fatigue, the man paced the room. Listening to the rain, and periodically glancing at the peacefully sleeping girl. He rubbed his face with his hands, stopping at the window.

Transparent drops enveloped the glass in chaotic patterns. The man pulled back the curtain and opened the window. He loved the rain and the cold, it was easier to breathe that way.

Lera rolled over on her back, and let out a low moan of pain when her neck was firmly in contact with the pillow. The girl opened her eyes and stood up.

Vlad lit the floor lamp. A dark yellow, faint light cast over a small part of the room. The man poured water from the decanter into a tall glass and took out a couple of painkillers.

“Drink this,” he handed everything to Valeria and sat down next to her.

She obediently accepted the medicine and grimaced as she swallowed a drop of water. She put down her glass and lay down carefully, closing her eyes. Heard a click. The man put out the light, then straightened the blanket and got up to close the window.

She felt how Vlad lay down next to her on top of the blanket, gently hugged Lera and whispered that she needed to sleep.

***

Lera slowly woke up, moments, again plunging into a faint dream. Warm, calm, and not as painful as yesterday. She opened her eyes and didn't realize where she was. Understanding slowly returned, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She cleared her throat and carefully sat up, looking around. There is no one in the room.

on a massive wall clock, a few more circles of the arrow and it will be four o'clock in the afternoon. She reached for a glass of water and the pills that Vlad had left on the table. She drank and slowly got up.

Stepping on the soft dark gray carpet, she walked over to the marble wall shelf opposite the bed. A photograph in a golden frame caught my attention. Portrait of a fair-haired middle-aged woman. Correct features, piercing eyes, but the woman seemed sad. As if she was about to cry, as if those eyes had seen her life crumble.

Lera ran her fingers over the documents and the stack of books and walked to the door on the left side of the bedroom, behind which was the bathroom. She quickly went inside and closed the door with a key.

Fifteen minutes later, the girl returned to the bedroom. Vlad stood near the bed, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his trousers, examined the packages and slowly turned his gaze to Valeria.

- Finally, you woke up. How are you feeling?

- It will do, - she answered hoarsely, and went up to the man.

There were packages on the bed. With clothes, cosmetics and other things. I wanted to ask a lot of questions and thank you, but it was painful to talk, and my voice almost disappeared.

- This is for you. Everything you need is here, - Vlad pointed to the purchases. “Change your clothes and go to the kitchen, you need to eat something,” he himself went to the bathroom.

Lera held his gaze and looked at things in surprise. She was sure that today she would be sent home. Although, I did not want to appear in such a form in front of my father. On the other hand, if dad calls, you need to come up with something about the location. The girl took out a jacket from a silver package and quickly put it on. He was overcome with chills again.

She left, not knowing where to go. Hesitantly, she walked down the corridor, reaching a room that resembled a living room. Suddenly, a strong man, in a white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, blocked the way. Wheat hair, neat cut and a wide scar on the temple.

- Hey, rocker, how are you? he smiled. “Oh, I’m Oleg,” he held out his hand to the girl.

She shook his warm hand and smiled faintly.

- I'm a friend of Vlad. Well, let's go, - he waved his hand and headed further down the corridor.

Lera was not surprised when she entered the kitchen with dark gray, almost black, walls and the same kitchen furniture. The girl took a place at the edge of the wooden table, sitting down on a soft chair.

- It was ordered to feed you, - he was shy, pouring chicken broth into a perfectly white plate. - All morning I was busy with these ... In short, Vlad rarely eats at home, so there is always nothing to eat here. I had to cook.

This man, without doing anything special, cheered up. Valeria listened to his lamentations with a half smile and watched his actions. He was radically different from the eternally gloomy, restrained Vlad.

- Here, - manneredly put a plate in front of her, gave napkins and a spoon.

- No appetite, - Lera weakly grimaced, and looked at the cheerful man.