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She stood in my living room and looked around.
“Not bad,” she said.
“Thanks.” I shoved the keys into my pocket then locked the deadbolt and the chain. I turned to her and tilted my head. “We need to talk.”
She shrugged. “Probably.”
“Are you going to try and run away?”
“Probably.”
I sighed. “I appreciate your honesty.”
“Are you going to hurt me?”
“No,” I said. “I’m not.”
“What about when I try to run? Are you going to hurt me then?”
I frowned and considered it. “Not on purpose. Might hurt you by accident when I grab you and wrestle you to the floor. But no more than necessary.”
She chewed her lip. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t think I need to hurt you. And frankly, I’m fucking tired and already killed one person tonight. I don’t feel like killing two.”
She grunted like I’d punched her in the gut. “Did you really have to do that to Vlas? He wasn’t so bad. He was my cousin. I mean—” She choked on her tears and stopped talking.
I gave her a long look. “Bathroom’s down that hall,” I said, gesturing. “My bedroom’s the first door on the right. You can stay there. Window sticks, so don’t bother. I’ll be on the couch.”
She stared at me. “You’re not going to… tie me up?”
“No. I’m going to assume you’re not stupid enough to think you can get away. But I’m guessing you’ll have to learn the hard way at least once.”
She stared hard in my eyes for a long beat then turned and stalked away. She went into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
I sighed and slumped against the wall.
I was exhausted and had a headache. I knew Hedeon wasn’t done punishing me, and Robin definitely wasn’t going to make this easy. Maybe killing her would’ve been the better call.
But hell, she didn’t deserve it. So I’m stuck with her pretty ass for the time being, at least until I can ransom her back to her piece-of-shit uncle.
I went into my small kitchen. The cabinets were chipped and painted blue. The white ancient refrigerator chugged along. I took out a beer and cracked it open. My couch was brown cracked leather and the coffee table had a glass top. All the furniture was from thrift shops. I had a few paintings on the walls, a few sports posters, nothing special. The place was pretty drab overall.
The only bit of color was a splash of green from the plants I grew near the window.
I filled a glass with water and gave them some. I whispered to them as I did it, said their names, and smiled to myself before sitting on the couch for the night. I heard the shower turn on then turn off by the time I finished my beer. I heard the bathroom door open and shut, then my bedroom door shut.
I reclined back on the couch, shut my eyes, and tried to sleep.2RobinSunrise woke me. He didn’t have blinds on the one window in his room. Birds chirped outside the window. His queen bed squeaked when I moved. There wasn’t much in his room: a dresser full of clothes, a closet with a couple suits, two nightstands full of books.
No guns, no knives. Nothing I could use as a weapon.
I threw my legs over the side of the bed, closed my eyes, and tried not to scream.
The day before flashed through my mind. Getting up early to go to work only to find Vlas still up from the night before, half drunk on vodka, watching reality TV. Spending the day at my boring as hell job managing a diner the Volkov family owned. Coming home after and finding Vlas passed out exactly where I’d left him.
Then two men breaking into the apartment. Vlas’s face as they shot him in the skull. The way his blood splattered on my skin and made a strange dripping sound on the hardwood. The scream in my throat that wanted to come out but got stuck.
The weird killer saving my life.
I don’t know how I ended up here. I should’ve been dead. That shorter guy wanted to kill me, right then and there, but Leo talked him out of it.
I should’ve been dead.
But I wasn’t.
A sob finally escaped my lips. I covered my face with a pillow and cried. I kept seeing Vlas’s head explode and the strange, almost bored look on Leo’s face as the body slumped to the floor.
It was like he’d done it a thousand times. Like he was stocking a grocery store refrigerator with a tray of meat.
Vlas didn’t deserve that. Well, maybe he did. He wasn’t the best guy in the world. The only reason I was living with him was because his father put an extra couple thousand dollars per month in my checking account and paid the rent and utilities. I was Vlas’s babysitter basically, and he knew it.
