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“Stop it,” I whimper, rage and sadness threatening to drag me under.
It falls on deaf ears. “To absolve him of his pain, I had to give him a little something to help chase away the ghosts that plague his dreams.”
“What? What did you give him?” I sit tall, clenching my fists under the table.
“Just a little something to help him sleep. But it seems not even the purest of drugs can rid you from his system.”
“You bastard!” I leap from my seat, ready to kill him with my bare hands. “Let him go!”
This is exactly the reaction he wants, but I can’t keep calm, knowing what he’s done to Saint.
“All in good time. But there are things I want from you. And there are things Astra wants.”
“What?” It’s all I can stomach to say because here’s the catch, the real reason I’m here.
“You killed her beloved, and she must avenge his death.”
“Fine. She can have her revenge. Just let Saint go.”
Oscar sighs, brushing invisible lint from his sleeve. “I wish it were that simple. But it’s not.”
And there it is. There are no gray areas. Only black and white. To get Saint back, it simply won’t be as easy as handing over the information they want. Yes, they want it, but they want to see me suffer more. And they know I’ll do what they say because I’ll do anything to set Saint free.
“How can you do this to him?” I spit, unable to mask my hatred for him. “You clearly feel something for him to go to the efforts that you have, yet you punish him and keep him here against his will. And all for what? To see him suffer? Does that give you pleasure?”
Oscar swallows deeply. Have I struck a nerve?
Nevertheless, I’m done playing. “So what are the terms? What do I have to do?”
Oscar skims his fingertips along the table. When he finally speaks, I realize he was only drawing out the inevitable. “It only seems fair you watch your beloved suffer as Astra watched hers. An eye for an eye.”
Squeezing my eyelids shut, I lock away my tears because I need to be strong. This place will break me otherwise. “Fine. But I refuse to entertain your sick ways without an end date. There has to be some finality.”
Oscar nods. “Yes, okay. I accept those terms. How quickly can Alek’s contact meet us?”
“As soon as I call him,” I reply, not wanting to get my hopes up.
“Excellent. The doctors think Astra will be strong enough in about two weeks. Does that suit you?”
“Two weeks?” I cry out. Two weeks in this place will amount to two hundred years.
But when Oscar’s stern expression doesn’t waver, it’s evident this isn’t up for discussion. “Merely a drop in the ocean compared to the lifetime of pain Astra faces without Borya.”
“Fine,” I finally agree, but I’m hoping to change his mind in the next few days. Or at the very least, have Pavel come up with another plan before then.
“Wonderful.” Oscar claps his hands, celebrating a job well done. “You see, wecanwork together.”
“Fuck you,” I retort, not appreciating his patronizing tone.
He laughs merrily, my insult bouncing straight off him. Once he’s done snickering, he barks an order in Russian. A second later, a man appears holding an old-fashioned phone.
I eye it suspiciously.
“Call him,” Oscar says, offering me the handset.
“Call who?” I ask, lost in translation.
“Alek’s contact. The man of the hour,” he clarifies while I get my head in the game. “To gain your trust, I have used this outdated phone so I’m unable to trace the number. It doesn’t even have a redial option.”
