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I immediately show Anthony that I know where Adam, FayeandGrisha are, and he looks at me like I’m absolutely insane.
I understand his reaction, but at the end of the day, the ends justify the means. I’m going to go save my family.
33
Faye
The resemblance between Adam and Aleksander is uncanny. Adam is a younger, less muscular version of Aleksander, which only makes him look like who I imagine Aleksander was when he was in his twenties. I’m fascinated by the way his features have aged now that I can see his old face on his brother, and I can’t help but stare.
“I already know that I look like shit, you don’t need to stare at me,” he grumbles.
“No, no, you don’t look... Okay, I mean, you look pretty rough, but I’m staring because you look just like Aleksander. It’s a compliment,” I reply sheepishly.
He turns to me with an inquisitive look in his eye. “How exactly do you know my brother? He’s kind of a loner, and you don’t look like a bottle girl or anything like that. You seem too classy for that,” he replies in a hoarse, despondent voice.
“I mean, the circumstances that I met him under aren’t ideal, but I’m his girlfriend,” I reply, blushing a bit as the wordgirlfriendleaves my lips.
“Damn, his girlfriend? I didn’t know he was even looking to date anyone. He doesn’t usually like people,” he replies, looking at me just a bit more closely. “You’re beautiful, he’s a lucky guy.”
Even with his tired eyes, I can see that same spark behind them. He and Aleksander must have been best friends when they were kids, because they share so many mannerisms and traits that it makes me miss him even more than I already do.
“So, how did you guys meet, if you don’t mind telling me? It’s just that he doesn’t get out a lot and doesn’t have any real hobbies, so I’m surprised he was able to pull someone like you,” he says with disbelief.
“I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you,” I confess. “It has to be one of the craziest first-meeting stories I’ve ever heard in my life. I certainly wouldn’t believe it if someone told it to me. I’d even be insulted that they thought I was dumb enough to believe them in the first place.”
He laughs out loud. “Okay, that I doubt. What happened?”
I brace myself to tell the story that I haven’t told a single person since it occurred. I’ve imagined this moment a million times in my mind before, but I’ve never been able to properly articulate how ridiculous it all is.
“I was staying in a hotel in Las Vegas-“
“The Red Millennium?” he says somewhat amused.
“Um, yes,” I reply, wondering how much of this story might actually just seem somewhat normal to him. The Red Millennium might be a popular spot for the bratva, especially if that damn briefcase had anything to do with it.
“So, I saw a briefcase on a Blackjack table, and I thought it was weird that nobody claimed it. I brought it up to the front desk and then went back to my room to watch TV and go to sleep. Not an hour later, my door is being pounded on by these two Russian guys in cop uniforms, demanding that they come inside and ‘inspect’ my room when they were just looking for the briefcase that I didn’t have,” I begin, still grasping at the absurdity of the story.
He narrows his eyes, still curious but less skeptical. “Go on.”
“Long story short, your brother somehow found me and shot the two men dead before they could hurt me. He was also pissed that I didn’t have the briefcase, and now he had drawn attention to my room with the gunshots. I was a witness, so he had to take me out of the crime scene as soon as possible. The next day, we had to fly to Japan to chase down Grisha, and the rest is history, I guess.”
He scoffs in disbelief. “Damn, that is pretty insane. You sure you didn’t just meet at a coffee shop or a concert or something? It’s fine if you met on one of the apps. I won’t judge you.”
I’m starting to warm up to his personality, and I’m easing into the conversation when I hear the rattle of gunfire taking place outside of the building.
The gunfire snaps me back into my body, and now I’m terrified of being stuck in place as a raid happens around me. I can only hope that it’s Aleksander, but I can’t afford to get my hopes up at this point. I don’t want to feel let down by him moments before I’m killed by a stray bullet.
“Oh fuck,” says Adam, his expression painted by terror.
The fact that Adam is just as terrified as me makes me want to scream. The men are always supposed to be the stoic, unmovable people in a crisis. If he’s panicking, then what the fuck am I supposed to do?
All I can do to avoid the carnage and terror is to close my eyes and hope that my body gives me an aneurysm or a heart attack out of mercy. I’ve heard of this happening before, so I know that it does in fact happen, but I doubt that I’d be lucky enough for such a thing given my running track record. I feel like the unluckiest person in the world, and I’ll probably end up getting clipped by a bullet that disfigures me for life.
“Faye! Adam!” shouts a familiar voice in the distance.
Could it really be him? Did Aleksander really come find us so soon?
I don’t respond right away, because the sound of the gunfire has warped my perception of sound. What if it’s someone else who just happens to know our names?
