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“What. The. Fuck,” Mercy whispers as she pulls me inside. “Do you have any idea who that is?”
I nod. “I already told you …”
She cuts me off. “Why did you bring him here? Y’know what? Never mind. Take this.”
Mercy tries to hand me the phone, but I don’t take it. Right now, getting caught is more frightening than anything else. I’ve seen how Nikolai handles a knife.
“I can’t …” I whisper.
“Michael is freaking the fuck out all over the effing town,” Mercy pants and paces in the cramped bathroom. There are only two stalls. “What the fuck is happening, Edie?”
The tears well up in my eyes, and my lower lip trembles as I break down.
“Edie, take the fucking phone!” She shoves the phone into my hands. “And call your dad.”
When I don’t, Mercy becomes frantic, and her speech speeds up.
“Edie, you can’t be with him!” Mercy grips my shoulders. “Do you have any idea what he’s capable of doing?”
Oh, I have a pretty fucking good idea.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” She paces, biting her nails. “I’ll figure something out. Stall him. Order a lot of food until …”
Her panic causes me to feel the same way, and suddenly, I feel tears welling up. I don’t know what to do, but I know that I can’t call my dad.
I can’t risk knowing that everything Nikolai has claimed about my dad is the truth.
Suddenly, Mercy freezes in place and stares at the closed door. She quickly weaves past me across the cracked tiles into a stall. I hear some fumbling, but before I can check on her, the hallway door into the bathroom swings open. Nikolai stands in the doorway, his mouth set in a tight line as he storms in. He checks each stall, banging the doors open.
But Mercy has disappeared.
Inside the stall she ran into is a door. It looks like a narrow closet for supplies. Nikolai tries the doorknob, but it’s locked. He yanks at it with force, but the door won’t budge. Nikolai slams the door to the stall shut, looking like hell personified.
And then he sees it.
The phone Mercy tried to give me is sitting on the sink. We both stare at it. I can’t take my eyes off it. Inhaling hard, I have to make a choice.
And that choice is to run. Quickly, I move away from Nikolai, but before I can reach the bathroom door—it opens.
Mercy glares at Nikolai, and disgust broadcasts loudly on her face. She takes the phone off the sink and slips it into her jeans pocket.
“Sir, men aren’t allowed in the ladies’ bathroom,” she says to him. “If you want to do that thing, you’re going to have to go somewhere else. I’m not judging, but this is afamilyrestaurant.”
I gawk at Mercy, who manages to keep a straight face, then glance at Nikolai.
He’s smiling, but the look in his green eyes is anything but amused. I’ve seen that look before, when I was hanging onto his hand and begging him not to let go.
“Whose family?” he asks calmly. “Yours?”
Mercy takes a step back, holding the door wide open, and gestures toward the hallway with a flick of her hand. Nikolai steps out first, and as I pass Mercy, she touches the phone to my hand, but I don’t dare take it.
I know he’ll find it.
We sit at our table, and the bartender walks over, carrying two bottles of Killian’s Irish Red. He places them on the table and pulls a bottle opener from his back pocket. He opens both bottles and leaves them in the center of the table.
Nikolai reaches out, places one bottle in front of me, and takes a sip from the other.
I don’t get it, but I think the man is proving a point.
