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Security team? What security team?
Bogdan looks in every direction around us, sighs, and tucks his gun back into his pants.
“Wh.. what is going on?” I ask in a shaking voice as Fedor and Ilya join us.
Fedor raises an eyebrow at me. “Why don’t you tell us,zolotse?”
I look from one of them to the other, including Karol. “What? Me? How would I know what’s going on?”
Fedor puts his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go. It is not safe out in the open like this.”
They just stare, confusing me. Then a large, black SUV pulls up to the curb, and with Fedor in the lead, looking in every direction with narrowed eyes, he gets in and everyone follows, the guys putting me between Bogdan and Ilya in the backseat.
“Wh… where are we going? What’s happening?” I ask, nuzzling my chin against the puppy’s head.
The driver pushes the car intodrive, and we peel away from the curb with a screech, momentarily attracting the attention of happy tourists. We take the first left and head uphill, away from the water.
Why are we driving away from the marina? Shouldn’t we return to the boat?
In the front seat, Fedor pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers, like he’s fighting a headache. On my left, Ilya takes my hand, and on my right, Bogdan kisses my temple, then looks away, out the window as the SUV gains in elevation.
We pass a few modest houses that get larger the higher we climb, and more spaced apart, as if the closer you are to the top, the more land and home you get. Which I suppose is probably the case.
I don’t understand what’s happening and I am scared. I wish we were back on the boat, as confining as it is, where I can drop back into my boring but predictable and safe routine.
And still, no one in the car speaks.
“I have no idea who that man was. Do you?” I ask, wishing someone would say something. “Where are we going?”
Maybe someone will at least tell me that.
Fedor finally turns to me. “We are not going back to the yacht, Abby. We are heading to our villa up in the hills.”
What?
“I… I don’t understand. What villa? How?” I stammer.
My pretty, new bracelet is cold against my wrist, and in the dim light of the SUV, looks like any other old hunk of metal, as if it’s been tarnished like my mood and the scary evening. The only thing around me unsullied is the puppy, squirming on my lap to find the perfect snoozing position.
Fedor stares straight ahead. Or is he scanning the horizon? “We have a villa up in the hills,” he says. “We will stay there from now on. Karol is making sure all our things from the boat are delivered in the next couple hours. It is safer here.”
I don’t know how it’s safer, but I guess in a boat you’re not much more than a sitting duck if someone really wants to get to you.
Disappointment wells up in me, ugly and heavy, pushing me back to the place I was when I first realized I was a prisoner. My hopes about getting away are crushed, obliterated, and now seem so silly and naive. Not only is no one coming to rescue me, we are heading someplace new, someplace I know nothing about, which I doubt will truly be safer.
I stealthily look around at the guys, who are, admittedly, kind to me, but who are also really not the sort of people I want to be with, much less even be aware exist on earth right next to me. I have a lot to learn about being street smart, but some of the things I’ve seen in the last four-plus weeks have changed me. I’m a different person now and not necessarily for the better. Any innocence I ever had? Gone. Snuffed out.
I’m trying not to feel brittle and dried out inside, but I’m not sure it’s working.
The puppy snorts in my arms and I hold her tighter. She and I will be making a tripsomewhere, god willing, sooner rather than later.
* * *
12
FEDOR
“I don’t knowwhy my dad hasn’t come to get me yet.”
