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“Are you?” she asks me point-blank, catching me off-guard.
“Am I?” I ask back, trying to figure that out myself. Technically, I haven’t gotten involved yet. I’m still trying to find my footing in the modern world, but my plan is to get back into it. I guess that makes me a criminal.
And if I have to be one to survive, then so be it.
And if I have to lie to Kimberly to keep her…
So be it.
“Avraam, I don’t know who you are. I want to know, but you’re always so secretive about it,” she says, placing her hand on my arm as I park the car. “Tell me the truth.”
“You think I’ve been dishonest with you?” I ask, knowing in my heart that I have. I’m guilty and it’s eating me up inside, but I can’t let her know the full truth. She’d leave me, and I’d stalk her until I ended up in prison again.
I’m not letting her go.
“I just want to know more. Like, why does your brother want to kill you, and are you involved with the Bratva?” she asks.
The questions are simple enough, but they’re infuriatingly difficult to answer.
I get out of the car, opening her door for her in a bid to buy myself time. “Let’s go up to my apartment and talk. It’s not safe out here,” I say as I grab her suitcase.
She walks ahead of me, eager to get to my unit as I purposely drag my feet to buy myself more time. I can’t tell a complete lie, but it’s harder to come up with a compelling story when I don’t know the full truth myself.
Framing Damien as the villain seems like a bad move. What if he has nothing to do with this?
“Wait a second,” I say as we arrive outside my apartment unit. I lurch toward the door, eager to stop her before she gets blown to pieces by the shotgun on the other side. “I just need to key in the code. Extra security.”
She gives me a questioning look but remains silent as I punch in the code beside the door. It beeps and turns green, deactivating the trigger that would blast my head off if I opened it without thinking. Even with the key, you’re dead if you don’t know the passcode.
Lockpicks and thieves get shredded. I have no mercy for people out to get me.
“Just, um, ignore the gun,” I say as I step inside.
“The what?” she asks, but I’ve already grabbed it and swiveled it away from the door. It’s set up on a metal stand with wires running down the side like an explosive lamp.
“What the fuck is that?” she asks, jumping back when she realizes I’m handling a weapon.
“Science project,” I say with a grin. I close the door and swivel the shotgun back to it. “Anyone who opens the door without putting in the code is going to have ablast.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, killing people is really funny, Avraam.”
I shrug. “Better to kill than be killed.”
“I’d rather do neither.”
“Well, darling, you don’t have a choice in the matter,” I say, motioning toward the couch in the living room. “Be seated.”
She eyes the shotgun suspiciously as she sits down. “Aren’t you worried you’re going to forget the code one day and blow your own head off?”
“Wouldn’t be the worst way to go,” I mumble.
“It wouldn’t? How about I take the gun and shoot you right now, then? How would you like that?” she asks, gripping the armrest of the couch like she’s trying to rip it off.
I chuckle, sitting down next to her and placing my hand on her thigh. “You shouldn’t be angry at me. Be mad at the person who tried to kill us.”
“Which is?” she asks, her eyes wide and expectant.
“Could be my brother, or could be someone else. I don’t really know,” I reply honestly. “Sucks to admit, but that’s the truth, darling.”
