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I’m very aware of Leo’s presence behind me though. Everything I do or say needs to be thought through. Everything feels surreal, like I’m watching this unfold from a distance. But it’s really happening. Real actions with real consequences.
Viktor walks over to the window that overlooks the road and glances outside, down at the street. “Company.”
“How many?” Grigoriy asks.
“Si—eight.”
“Fuckers.”
“Are you going to hurt us?” I hate asking the question in front of Leo, but I don’t know what else to do. Sending him back to his room alone sounds even riskier than keeping him here with me.
Grigoriy and Viktor exchange a look, appearing genuinely confused by my question.
“Hurt you? Of course not.” More of an accent creeps in than before, somehow adding to the sincerity. Grigoriy sounds genuine, and it soothes a little of the terror.
I have no reason to trust him, aside from the fact he hasn’t hurt us yet. He—or Viktor—could have shot me the minute they entered the apartment.
The suffocating state of fear I’ve been in since I heard the first gunshot eases a little more.
Viktor has walked back over to the window. He glances outside, then says something in Russian. I can’t understand a word of it, but I have no issue reading the tone.
Urgency.
“We need to go,” Grigoriy states.
I’m running on adrenaline and confusion. I have no idea who Grigoriy and Viktor are or why they’re here. But I can’t come up with any reason why they’d be lying about more men coming. I’m already at their mercy.
There’s a gun in Grigoriy’s hand all of a sudden.
Adrenaline spreads, mixing with fear. I refuse to let it paralyze me though. There’s too much at stake right now. I can freak out about anything and everything that could happen later.
One of mom’s boyfriends when I was in sixth grade had a gun cabinet. His name was Eric, and he’d been honorably discharged from the Army. He and Mom crossed paths at an AA meeting during one of her attempts to get sober.
Their relationship ended once she started using again—and stealing from him to fund her habit. But for a few months, it was the closest I felt to having a complete family.
When we were briefly staying at his house, I’d sit and help Eric clean his guns, silently enjoying when Mom would fuss about me touching them. It felt like she cared, for once, although I’m pretty sure it was more about impressing Eric with her parenting skills than any actual worry about my safety.
Sixth grade was the last time I saw a gun in person—until now. Viktor is holding one as well now. They’re not pointed our way, providing a flimsy illusion of defense.
I know that can change very quickly.
“You ready?” Viktor asks.
It’s an honest question, not a demand. But I know it only has one correct answer.
I have no idea what these men want from me. At the moment, they appear protective. I have no confidence it’s not another illusion and no choice but to trust it.
“One second.” I help Leo into his coat and zip it up all the way, as if that will protect him from whatever might come our way. And I manage to slip my phone into the pocket of my down jacket before I pull it on, which alleviates a little of the weight that’s crushing my chest.
I can call for help. I’m not helpless.
Grigoriy stops me before we reach the door, tugging on the sleeve of my coat. “Cover his eyes,” he tells me, nodding to Leo.
I stare at him in shock, uncertainty. My mind is racing with what the implications might mean. It also provides me with more assurance we’ll be okay than anything else he’s said.
I do as he says, guiding Leo so he’s standing in front of me and his movements mirror mine. “It’s going to be okay.” I whisper the words to him and hope they’re true.
Before we step into the hallway, I cover Leo’s eyes. His body tenses, but he doesn’t protest as we step onto the carpet I’ve trodden a hundred times before.
