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Chapter Twenty
VERA
I wake up in a bed that is not mine, and I am alone. I don’t know whether I am better off that way or not. Rhys probably knows that I want to kill him, and I wouldn’t want him with me right now, but there is another part of me that doesn’t feel like me at all. And that part of me has shattered.
I thought if the way I felt when my father threw me on the streets. I was a hurt and scared little girl, but one night on the streets and I knew I needed to buck the fuck up and grow a pair to make it out in that cold world. So, I did. I had no love or care for the man that dropped me like a hot potato and didn’t really even think about anyone else I left behind in that old life. I hardly grieved for the old me either. I just conquered and became what I am now.
So, I don’t know what broken feels like, I only think that's what I am now.
My only true family in this world is gone., The drugs that I let sit too damn long finally took her life, and Glib is to blame too. Which makes me to blame in a roundabout way. And now Lana, the person I had hoped would fill my heart with another friend, someone who I could have take on my legacy when I was too old or too busy to, she is gone too. And so young. I have no one.
Yes, I mean, I know there is Rhys, but I still feel like there are parts of me he doesn’t know. Like he can’t reach into my soul and feels its curves, its black spots, its holes...
So, I feel alone.
I pull my knees up to my chest and just try to breath, but for some damn reason it is so hard. I don’t think it’s ever been hard to just fucking breath and live and exist like it is right now. I have heard of people feeling this way; grief, depression, anger, whatever the fuck this is, and it pisses me off that it has struck me, the invincible Ukrainian bitch.
I could ask what I did to deserve this, but I am as far from a saint as you can get. I fuck up on a daily basis, and it’s on purpose. I have killed. I have watched people die. And I have often enjoyed it.
So, I should have known this was coming one day, some kind of grand punishment, but why did it have it involve killing off other people? This world doesn’t make any fucking sense.
I sit here, for I don’t know how long, and I wait for the tears to come.
They don’t.
I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. It’s like I am a machine and not a human, but I can’t cry. I can’t fucking cry over the loss of two people.
Annoyed with this turn of events, I instead turn to anger, something I am more familiar with. I get up and head to the door. I want to know where the hell I am.
I jiggle the handle, wondering if it’s locked. I mean, I remember I was drugged before I got here. I am not exactly going to be free, but how caged am I?
The handle turns with no issue, so I guess there’s that. I tiptoe around in what I can now see is a very large hotel room...no wait. It is multiple hotel rooms that open into one another.
I peek back into my room to see I didn’t notice before it was a small hotel room itself, the tiniest kind, more like a master bedroom, but out here there are two living areas that interconnect and a large curtain that is open between the two.
There are men littered on the other side, in the other room. They are eating and I think watching a sports game, but I am not dumb enough to think that they wouldn’t notice if I tried to leave. And I am sure they all have plenty of ways on them to subdue me if I try.
In my room, I see one man in the corner, minding his own business, but as I go closer to the door and approach a desk I couldn’t see before, Fredrig sits there, blocking my path out. I instinctively know this is a strategic placement. I wouldn’t want to hurt him necessarily in an attempt to escape, and I am sure Rhys thinks with Fredrig I would listen to reason. But there is no reason in any of this.
"Where is Rhys?" I growl. And suddenly the men across the way go silent, listening in to our conversation. "Where are we?"
"Safe," he answers vaguely, and I get in his face, anger pouring off of me. I go for him, searching for any weapon on him I can threaten him with. Rhys was smart; there is only a small knife, nothing more.
"Tell me what’s going on."
"Vera, you are not thinking clearly right now, and there was no choice. You and Rhys...all of us could be in danger because of Valentin. We are in New York. And we all have strict orders to keep you inside. I am sorry, but no phone calls, no walks outside, though you're welcome to open the window and survey the view. Just, settle in and grieve. I am sure Rhys will have this figured out in no time so you can go home."
I scoff at the word home. What do I have to go home to? Yes, Ukraine is my home. I would feel out of place somewhere else, a feeling I already have as I approach the large window to the side of the room.
But I have no family left there. There is not much of a home left. And I don’t even get to defend my home or people from Glib now.
I look out over the bustling city and see that it's midday, and I just feel so damn empty.
I roll the knife into my shirt, clearly it’s either forgotten that I have to or he feels I won’t do much damage with it, and I retire to my room again, not having a will to do anything else. Not even ask for food.
As I play over and over in my mind the events of the last few months, a numbness comes over me that I can’t shake. It is like the sorrow is so heavy I can’t feel it anymore.
So, I pull out the knife, and I pull up my pant leg, staring at my bare thigh for just a moment before I dig into the skin and watch the blood run red.
