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My father looks back at Dominik, still skeptical but with less hostility.
“Ever since the Italians beat up Slava, I haven’t been able to go anywhere without panicking. Dominik is the only person who can keep that from happening. You know the Italians could still come after me, and Dima’s a fucking pussy. He won’t do shit!”
Without saying another word, he motions for the two men to drag Dominik and Slava out the door.
They all leave at once, and I scream. I scream from frustration, from anger, from sadness. There isn’t any space left in me for joy or peace. My life has become a graveyard for the future that was stolen from me, and I feel like I could sink through the floor from despair.
When I was younger, I felt like I could control my father easily just by being persistent, wearing him down over time. Because of all the external stress in his life, he gave in to my requests without much pushing from my end. I always knew that something serious was happening when I could get him to do anything.
Now that I’m older, he only ever treats me like a burden. He’s completely disinterested in my wellbeing or my happiness as long as he can keep me on a tight leash. This is just more proof that he’d lock me in a dog kennel if he could get away with it. He’s just a control freak and a tyrant.
Sometimes I’m happy that I never had friends growing up, because then I would have a base for comparison to what a good father should be like. I’d come home from their houses with tears in my eyes, knowing that my father could never be as warm and accepting as another girl’s. I’m sure some fathers are amazing, but I can’t even begin to know what that must be like.
I want to jump from my bedroom window, falling on my head and cutting my connection to this plane in seconds. I can’t stand all the pressure, and I feel so much guilt for getting pregnant at all that I can hardly sleep. Every minute of my life in the past few weeks has been a nonstop cycle of sadness, fear, and shame.
I wish I could take back what I said about Dominik, but all I can do is hope that he knows me better enough than to believe I could really feel that way about him. The fact that I don’t have the choice to explain it is eating me alive.
30
DOMINIK
Ihaven’t seen Mika in three days, and I haven’t tried to make any attempts at contacting her. In order to pull this off, I need as little of a paper trail as possible.
Since I still have a key to the house, I sneak through the garage door and directly over to the stairs below Mika’s bedroom. I know she might be confused at the least, maybe even panicked, but I don’t have time to worry about that now. I know she wants to leave with me, and at this point, I doubt she needs another reason to.
I open the door to her room, closing it behind me as softly as possible to keep it from waking her.
Approaching the side of her bed without making enough noise to startle her is a dangerous game. If she sees me and doesn’t recognize me, she’ll scream, and it’ll all be over. I’ll be put to death and she’ll be forced to pump out babies for Izet for the rest of her life.
The thought of being murdered stops me in my tracks for a moment. I really have to consider the fact that I could lose my life in a very violent fashion if I got caught doing this.
But she’s worth it.
I walk up to her bed, and I say her name a couple of times so that she’ll recognize my voice before she’s fully awake.
“What? Why are you here?” she asks, blinking away her sleep.
“I talked to your mom about what she went through being a woman in the Bratva. It was horrible, and I couldn’t top thinking about you being in her same exact position. You look just like her. It wasn’t hard to imagine,” I say, feeling a heaviness in my chest as I remember Vivka’s story.
“But you knew women were treated like shit in the Bratva before. What changed?” she asks, skeptical of my honesty. What could I possibly stand to gain from lying to her?
“Nothing changed, but the way she explained it sent chills down my spine. She was completely isolated and helpless, just like you are. That’s how they want it to be, and it’ll never get better for you. I couldn’t let that happen,” I reply.
“So now we’re really going to get out? We’re really going to leave?” she asks, her voice so hopeful that it sounds like her chest might burst.
“Yeah, just trust me. I need you to get your stuff together. We’re leaving tonight,” I whisper as I help her sit up in bed.
“We’re both going to die, remember? You’re the one who said that,” she replies, holding her head in her hands as she struggles to wake up.
“Yeah, I know, and that’s still a possibility. But I need to try to save you. What kind of man would I be if I let you stay here? This place is poison,” I say. “Now get out of bed and pack a bag. Just essentials. We can figure out the rest later.”
It takes her a couple more minutes to get up, which stresses me out immensely. When I finally have her fully out of bed, I help her pack a bag before we make our way out to the hallway. It’s so quiet out here that I feel like any noise at all would echo through the entire house, but we have no choice.
We both know the house pretty well in the dark, and soon enough we’re walking back through the door I’d come in earlier. She’s gripping my arm hard, and I don’t know if it’s because she needs me to protect her or if she just wants to feel me. I’m hoping it’s a little of both.
The night is unseasonably still, no wind or storms to shake us off our path. I want to just stand here in the beauty of the night with her, to really hold her on purpose for the first time.
“Okay, we’ve really got to go, like now,” Dominik whispers. “I’ve got our way out of here parked around the back, but once we leave, that’s it. No turning back.”
