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I collapse onto the couch. I groan, squeezing my eyes shut, fighting back tears.
Everything hurts. My ears ache, my foot is killing me, my legs are heavy from the run. I have a dozen bruises from banging into walls.
But none of that matters, not compared to seeing my father’s face in that parking lot. The fear, the anger. The disappointment. He wasn’t with the thugs in the hotel, which means he might not have known they tried to kill us, but how could he have gone along with something like that to begin with?
He’s not a stupid man. He’s aware of what Rustik does.
I don’t understand what Papa’s thinking.
Slowly, I raise my phone. There are more messages from him. Back to pleading again.
This time, I call him back.
“Hello?” He answers on the first ring like he was staring at the screen waiting for my call. “Alisa? Is that you?”
“Papa.” I have to fight against the tears. Hearing his voice is both an enormous relief and more painful than I ever imagined. I love this man—I loved him at least—and I can’t understand why he’s doing this to me.
“Alisa,” he says, sounding exasperated. “My little girl. What were you thinking, running away from your wedding? Did that Crowley man force you to do it? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say, staring at the ceiling. What am I supposed to tell him? What could make him understand? “Liam didn’t force me to do anything.”
Silence for a beat.
“Why would you run?” he asks, voice soft. Like he doesn’t want to be overheard.
“Papa, you know why. I never wanted to marry Rustik to begin with. And Liliya—”
“I don’t want to hear your silly stories anymore,” he says. “We know what happened to Liliya. You think that doesn’t kill me every day? You think I don’t miss my oldest daughter?”
“Papa,” I say and have to clear my throat. “If I marry Rustik, he’s going to kill me too.”
“No, you’re wrong. Rustik is a hard man, yes, that’s true, but he needs a wife to soften him up and give him children. If you marry Rustik, maybe things will be hard at first, but your life will be so much better.”
“Why? Because I’ll have babies?”
“Sweetness—”
“No, tell me, Papa. How will my life be better?”
He sounds frustrated. “You won’t have to work ever again. Everything will be provided for you.”
“I want to work. I wanted to be a part of your business. Why do you think I went back to school?”
“Alisa—”
“I agreed to marry Rustik because I was terrified he’d hurt you if I didn’t. But standing in the house, it was obvious he’d hurt me if I did. I’m sorry if running made things worse, Papa, but if I married Rustik, I’d be dead in a few years.”
Another silence. This one strained. “Please come back.” His voice is weak, like he doesn’t even believe himself. “We can figure this out. Speak with Rustik. A longer engagement—”
“Listen to yourself—”
“You can get to know the man—”
“He’s a monster! He killed Liliya!”
“You don’t know that,” Papa roars, his anger slipping. “You don’t know that, and you’d be smart to watch your mouth. What did I teach you? Did you learn anything from me?”
I sit, ears ringing like the gunshot from earlier. Tears leak down my face. “I learned a lot from you.”
“Then come back. Rustik is a reasonable man. He understands these circumstances are stressful—” Papa keeps talking, but I tune him out.
All I can see is Rustik’s face in the hallway. His ugly sneers. His horrible words. Whatever Papa thinks of the Bratva boss, he doesn’t know the truth.
Rustik is an empty shell. He’s a devourer, a killer. He’ll consume, and consume, and kill anything that gets in his way.
I cut my father off mid-sentence. “Papa, tell me what really happened to Liliya. Tell me the truth and maybe I’ll come back. I know you’re hiding something.”
I can hear him breathing. “There’s nothing to say.”
“Tell me the truth. If you ever loved her, and if you ever loved me, tell me what you really know.”
“Enough, Alisa.”
“Tell me, you selfish bastard! Tell me the truth!” I’m shouting now. Hysterical, out of control. The bathroom door opens and Liam appears. He’s shirtless, staring at me.
“Get ahold of yourself.”
“No, you fucker. You fucker. I hate you!” I stand, hands trembling. “You tried to sell me to Rustik like you sold Liliya. All for what, for money? You’re disgusting.”
“Watch your tone. I know you’re upset—”
“I’m going to hurt you. I promise, Papa. I’m going to hurt you.”
“I’d like to see you try,” he snarls. “Come back to Rustik’s home by midnight tonight, or I’m going to kill you myself.”
“Good luck.”
I hang up the phone and throw it as hard as I can at the floor.
It bounces, tumbles, rolls, and comes to a stop at Liam’s feet.
