“We’re moving,” I tell her. “As soon as possible.”
She doesn’t ask me any questions. She doesn’t even look at me.
“Fine,” she says noncommittally. “I’ll be ready.”
“You’re not going to argue?” I ask, surprised.
She finally meets my gaze, and her eyes seem hollower than I’ve noticed them being before.
“What’s the point?” she asks. “We’re going to do whatever you want us to do.”
I nod, resigned to her indifference. She’s gotten used to being told what to do, and I can’t change that. I have to maintain complete control if I’m going to get us out of this alive.
14
ANYA
Idon’t pack much. There’s so little in this house that belongs to me anyway. I’m sure Viktor will replace the books and the puzzles and whatever inane activity is meant to keep me entertained, but none of it is really mine. Still, as I lace up my shoes and zip up my jacket, I feel the familiar tightening in my chest.
This is the last time I’ll ever see this room. It’s become my sanctuary over the last month-and-a-half. It’s not much. There’s still just the barest of furniture and a handful of clothes Viktor brought me after we arrived. He’ll probably replace all of that too. What I’ll really miss, though, is the familiarity.
I know this was always meant to be temporary. If anything, I stayed much longer here than I ever thought I would. I resent that when I’m finally able to leave, it’s with Viktor. Where did my will to fight go?
Oh, that’s right, it went in the trash with that positive pregnancy test. That was the day I realized that I couldn’t run anymore. I couldn’t hide from whatever horrors await me in the future. I have a baby to protect and that is all that matters.
I throw my small bag over my shoulder and open the door. The guard stationed outside is silent as usual.
Downstairs, the whole atmosphere feels tense and charged. There are more men in the house than I’ve ever seen, and they’re all completely strapped.
“This is just a precaution,” Viktor says mildly when he sees me come down the stairs. “Everything is going to be fine.”
I nod, but I don’t believe him. In my experience, everything that can go wrong will go wrong, and tonight is really going to test that theory.
The kitchen table is covered in maps, burner phones, and a small pile of keys. Sergei is speaking low with another man, and I can hear them discussing routes and contingencies. Everyone is preparing for a worst-case scenario.
Sergei clears his throat when he sees me standing there. “You ready for this?” he asks.
I look at him through narrowed eyes. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He nods. “Just keep your head down and do whatever Viktor tells you. You’ll have three guards in your car, and a dozen men between the car in front and the car in back.”
“You really think it’s going to come to that?” I ask, challenging him. Viktor might sugarcoat things, but I think Sergei is a straight shooter.
“Your man is ruthless,” he says calmly. “I don’t think there’s anything he isn’t going to do to try and get you back.”
I bristle at his words. Mikhail is not “my man.” That’s the whole point. I don’t belong to him and I never did. I just wish someone would see that.
“We’re leaving out the back,” Viktor says, interrupting us before I can say something cutting to Sergei.
I nod and he guides me out the door, out into the back garden where cold air hits my face. The gate is already open and the guards flank us as we’re guided into a black SUV. There are three idling in the alley. One in front of ours and one behind, just like Sergei said. We wait for a moment while his men load quickly into the other two cars, and then the convoy starts moving.
I’m sandwiched between Sergei and a guard. The driver has one hand on the wheel and one on the gun in the middle console. The guard in the passenger seat sits low, watching for any sign of danger. He’s also clutching a gun, and I know he’s got another in his pantleg if he needs it.
I can’t see much through the dark tint of the SUV, but I can track our movement by the way the light shifts against the glass. We roll down the street and leave the neighborhood. As we exit the street, another car pulls in front of us and another behind, adding to our convoy.
Viktor sits in in silence, staring out the window and watching everything intensely. I hate the silence. For once, I wish he would say something, just so I can push him. I want to sharpen my own skills with a verbal jab. The tenser our ride gets, the more I want to rage against the possibility of anything going wrong. It’s like I feel myself waking up after a long hibernation.
I keep my posture rigid, forcing myself to breathe. We’re approaching an intersection where the light is changing. Thelead vehicle clears it, but the car immediately in front of us stops. Viktor puts his hand on my knee, but I realize it’s not meant to be comforting. He’s commanding me, without words, to stay still.
