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I feel like Julia Roberts inPretty Woman.
And I hate that movie.
Fedor asks us to wait, and he ducks into a jewelry shop where I’m staring at their window display. I don’t wear jewelry aside from my hoops, but this place has some incredible stuff. Not that I could ever afford it. But five minutes later, Fedor emerges with a gold bracelet, which he clasps onto my wrist. It glitters in the last of the day’s sun and I have to admit, it is so pretty against my suntan.
“Happy birthday,krasotka,” he says.
My birthday. How do they know?
“Thank you. It’s… amazing. So generous.”
I’m sure it’s expensive, and now I’m embarrassed. But it’s probably just a drop in the bucket for these guys. Wonder if they get jewelry for all the women they kidnap.
They watch me bounce it around on my wrist, admiring it. I do love it. And my birthday is coming up. Weird that they know that.
Actually, no it’s not. They know everything.
It’s funny, walking around with the puppy on a leash, surrounded by the three guys with Karol watching out for us not far behind. People probably think I’m some rich man’s pampered wife. In my floaty white linen sundress and strappy hand-made sandals, I look the part. I have a rhinestone headband holding my wild hair off my face, and not a trace of makeup except for red lips. If only I wasn’t a prisoner, life would be perfect.
Looking behind us, I pretend to be waiting for Karol to catch up. But I’m really trying to get a good look at a tall thin man in jeans and a dark shirt who seems to be following us. Which I doubt because he really does stick out like a sore thumb and in fact has been easy to spot everywhere we’ve gone, since the moment we got off the tender.
I don’t say anything, but I wonder if the guys or Karol have noticed him. I also wonder if he’s someone my father sent to rescue me.
Pausing to look at pretty stationary in a store window, I hope to give the man time to catch up. And while he does get closer, I make eye contact with him before one of the guys puts his hand on my waist to move me along. I want him to know I’ve noticed him.
Hemustbe here for me. If he were an enemy of the guys, I am sure Karol would have dealt with him by now.
After all, I did overhear them talking about bringing firearms for tonight’s excursion, so I know someone has a gun. I don’t know who, and pretty much don’t want to know, but I think if there’s an issue the guys can take care of it.
This is my new reality, and it’s goddamn crazy, thinking about guns and assessing threats. Just a few weeks ago I was a sloppy tomboy thinking about the upcoming semester at college, and whether Econ would be as hard this year as it was last.
I’m convinced Dad sent someone for me. I know it and I’m thrilled. I’m jumping the gun in this assumption, but I can’t imagine any other reason someone would be following us. My father is well-off and knows a lot of people. This is exactly the kind of thing he’d do.
I fake-accidentally drop the puppy’s leash and when she starts to dart away, amused pedestrians side-step her, and she runs as fast as her pudgy little legs will carry her. Lucky for me, she heads right in the direction of the mystery man.
A passerby grabs her leash off the ground and with a smile hands it to me. The puppy stops short and turns to see who has the audacity to curtail her exploring and throws a little bark in my direction.
I run to scoop her up in my arms, and then I see the man may not be who I hope he is. Hairs rise on the back of my neck, I’m frozen in place, and my stomach suddenly doesn’t feel so great, the wine and seafood I consumed at dinner becoming a noxious mix.
He gives himself away by turning, only for a split second, to look at oncoming traffic, thus revealing his large neck tattoo.
Just like the one I overheard the guys saying local criminals wear. Would this be who my dad sent?
I don’t know which way to turn, not that I can move anyway, and for a second I can’t breathe. Bogdan jogs to my side and puts his arm around my shoulder, trying to snap me out of my panic.
“Th… th… that man,” I whisper, my head down as if I could hide. “Wh… who is he?” I sputter.
“C’mon,” Bogdan says. “We have been watching him, baby. Do not worry. Karol has someone on his tail. He is surrounded and doesn’t even know it, just another stupid amateur. Dangerous, but still an amateur.”
Holy shit. And I thought this man appeared on the scene to rescue me. And that the guys wouldn’t have noticed him?
Fuck, am I stupid.
We’re walking quickly along the promenade when Bogdan yanks me into an alley. He pushes me behind him and pulls a gun from the back of his pants. He peers around the corner and nods at someone.
“That dirtbag’s going to be sorry he got out of bed this morning,” he hisses. “Following us. Fucking idiot has no idea what’s coming for him.”
Karol sticks his head down the alley. “We got him, Bogdan. The security team has taken him away.”
