Page 9 of Villain’s Kiss

“Give her here,” I say, motioning with my hands.

With a gasp of gratitude, Viktoriya sits up and carefully lays the girl down on the concrete. “You can save her. I know you can.”

I shoot her a hard look. So much faith in a man she doesn’t know who slaughtered his way to get to her.

I position my hands on the woman’s chest and start. I learned CPR young, under circumstances I don’t like to revisit, but the muscle memory is still there even after all these years. Thirty compressions, two breaths. Keep the rhythm. Don’t stop.

The basement is very quiet except for the sound of the compressions, my counting under my breath, and Viktoriya’s whispers of encouragement as she holds Emily’s hand.

I check Emily’s pulse, and it’s faint.

I keep going.

The concrete is hard under my knees. The single bulb swings slightly in a draft from somewhere, and the shadows move around us. I’m aware of every second passing. The window of time that was already narrow when I came through that back door and is getting narrower.

I keep going.

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Check the pulse.

Nothing.

I’m twelve years old, kneeling on a different floor in a different city, my hands on my brother’s chest, counting compressions.

Artem, wake up.

Artem.

Tears on my face. My arms aching. A boy’s weak, skinny arms. But I kept going. I didn’t stop.

It was his fifth overdose that I’d witnessed, and the first time I was all on my own with his pallid, unresponsive body. It wouldn’t be the last. Mom had taught me what to do but I could feel my soul leaving my body from sheer terror.

Please, Artem. Don’t leave me.

“Emily, can you hear me? Stay with us, Emily.”

Viktoriya is very still beside me now. She’s stopped talking. She’s just holding Emily’s hand and watching my face with those hollow eyes, her hope fading.

“Come on. Come on. Stay.”